Crops of wheat and barley in whose straw the ‘flax-seeds’ have been found should be cut above the second joint, either by setting the reaping-machines high, or by reaping them by hand, so as to leave a long stubble. Where barley is short and must be cut with scythes, the mowers should be instructed to keep them as high as possible. Land upon which the crops have been infested should be cultivated or broad-shared immediately after harvest. The stubble and rubbish should be collected most carefully and burnt; after this the land should be deeply ploughed, or the stubble might be ploughed in at once deeply. Straw from infested fields should be closely inspected when thrashed. If pupæ are found, the straw should be used on the spot if possible for litter, and all passed through ‘mixens,’ that heat may destroy them. The chaff and ‘cavings’ from such straw should be burnt, and the corn screened in the most careful manner. Corn from infested fields should on no account be used for seed. Where manure is obtained from the cow-sheds and stables of London and other cities and towns, it should be ‘mixened’ for some time, as it is very probable that the pupæ of the insect might be imported in packing-cases and with straw crates from America and Canada. Wheat-plants and barley-plants that show yellowness and other signs of disorder in the autumn or spring should be closely examined for larvæ or pupæ of the Hessian fly. Should it be discovered that the larvæ or maggots are injuring young wheat-plants in November, or that pupæ—‘flax-seed’—are present upon these, it would be well to feed them down hard with sheep.
THEORIES OF DEW.
Referring to our recent article on ‘[A New Theory of Dew]’ (No. 126), a correspondent at Beaumaris writes as follows:
‘You will see from the following experiment, one of many carried out by Mr Du Fay in Paris towards the end of last century, that Mr Aitken’s ideas regarding the origin of dew are not strikingly new, and only go to prove the old adage that “There is nothing new under the sun.”—“Mr Du Fay, at Paris, placed two ladders against one another, meeting at their upper ends, and spreading wide asunder below. Their height was thirty-two feet. To the several steps of these he fastened large panes of glass, so disposed as not to overshade one another. With this apparatus exposed to the air, he found that the lower surface of the lowest pane of glass was first wetted with dew, then its upper surface, then the lower surface of the pane next above it was wetted, and so on, until all the panes to the very top of the ladders became covered with dew. Mr Du Fay maintained that this was an unanswerable proof that dew was formed from vapours ascending from the earth during the night, rather than from the descent of such as had been raised in the course of the day.” Dr Wells’s theory is doubtless the more generally accepted; but many men, more especially such as have sojourned in tropical climes, hold to Du Fay’s opinion, namely, that the moisture causing dew emanates more from the soil than from the circumambient air.’
SOLITUDE.
Not in the deepest tangles of the wood,
The turtle’s haunt, the timid squirrel’s lair;
Not on the ocean beaches, rough and bare
With never-ending battles, unsubdued
In war of winds and waters hoar and rude;