GIFT OF . \ ^ciuiJ-r, ■ -;/^ Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2007 with funding from IVIicrosoft Corporation http://www.archive.org/details/farmornewentertaOOtaylrich PETER PARLEY'S LITTLE LIBRARY. This series of entertaining and useful Books is designed for Children. They will be elegantly printed, and handsomely illustrated by Engra- vings. They will consist either of Biographical Tales and Adventures, of an authentic character, or lively and amusing descriptions and illus- trations of the Arts of Life. They will be by different writers, but the selection of the works, and the general superintendence of their publica- tion, will be committed to the Author ol Peter Parley's Tales. The following are among the works which will belong to the series. 1. THE ADVENTURES OP CAPT. JAMES RILEY, IN AFRICA. 2. THE STORY OF JOHN R. JEWETT, the Captive of Nootka Sound. 3. THE SHIP, or entertaining descriptions of the Structure and Use of a Ship, with Stories of Sea Adventures, and a History of the art of Navigation. 4. THE STORY OF LA PEROUSE, and an account of the voy- ages made to discover his fate. 5. THE FARM, or a new account of rural scenes, with the toils, pleasures, and pursuits of Farming. By J. Taylor. 6. STORY OF ALEXANDER SELKIRK, who inhabited a soli, tary island, alone, for several years. 7. THE MINE, an entertaining account of Mines and Minerals. 8. THE GARDEN, or the art of laying out and cultivating it. ^^ These works are prepared with the view of rendering them at- tractive to children, and amusing to all classes of youthful readers ; at the same time they are calculated to impart knowledge of a useful kind. THE PARENT'S PRESENT, edited by the author of Peter Par- ley's Tales. H^ This work is very neatly printed, and is designed as a Christmas or New Year's present, for parents to their children. PETER PARLEY'S PICTURE BOOK, with 38 beautiful Engra- vmgs. PETER PARLEY'S SPELLING BOOK, with 175 Engravings, PETER PARLEY^S BOOK OF FABLES, with fine Cuts. PETER PARLEY'S EVERY DAY BOOK, 50 Engravjngs. t. THE FARM: A NEW AND ENTERTAINmG ACCOUNT OP RURAL SCENES AND PURSUITS, WITH THE ^ TOILS, PLEASURES, AND PR0DUCTI01>fe' OF FARMING. Jor^ FOR YOUNG READERS IN THE TOWN AND COUNTRY. PHILADELPHIA: J. B. LIPPINCOTT & CO. 1861. (oA^ X CONTENTS, Introduction The Farm-House Farming Buildings The Rick-yard and Barns . The Granaries Stables and Hay-barns Cow-houses, Piggeries, &c. Size of Gable-sides Farm Names of the Fields Explanation of Names Tillage .... The Plough The Ploughman . The Harrow Manure Pag* 11 23 26 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 36 40 42 44 45 ^3893G VI CONTENTS. Weeding and Land-ditching Draining Land Bush-harrowing Hedging and Ditching Destruction of Vermin Rat and Mole catching Produce of the Farm Wheat . Sowing Wheat . Sowing with the Drill Barley- Oats . Rye . Pulse Crops, &c. Peas and Beans Tares . 'Cow Cabbages . Mustard Seed Saffron Madder Coriander . CONTENTS. Vll Caraway Seeds Hops Hop-harvest . Hop-picking Hemp, Flax, and Teasels Hemp Flax . Linseed Teasels Straw Haulm . Remarks Live Stock . Oxen Sheep . Sheep-shearing . Lambs . Hogs Horses . Dairy and Poultry Yard Milk . Page. 86 87 89 90 92 93 95 97 98 99 101 102 103 104 108 109 110 111 113 119 121 Vm CONTENTS. Page. The Churn 122 Butter . .123 Cheese 125 The Poultry Yard . . . . . 127 Turkeys 128 Common Fowls ...... 129 Eggs 132 Geese 133 Ducks 135 Game . 136 Hay-making 138 Mowing 140 Hay-making 141 Stacking the Hay 145 Thatching Hay-stacks . . . . 149 Hay-binding and Selling . . . . .152 Hay -binding . . . . . . 153 Disposal of the Hay . . . . . 156 Second Crops 157 Grain Harvest . . • . • . 158 Reaping 160 CONTENTS. IX Page. Harvest Season . . . ^ . . . 162 Grain Harvest 164 Threshing and Dressing Grain • • • • 165 Threshing . ^ 166 Winnowing . . • • • .169 Measuring Grain . . • . .171 Samples ....*... 173 Dealers 174* The Grain Mill ...... 176 The Potatoe Crops 177 Turnips . 181 Grass 183 Herbage Plants • . 188 Clover ....... 189 Lucem 190 Saintfoin 191 Dealing and Money Matters • • . .192 A Farmer's Expenses • • . . 193 Rent 194 Leases ^ . 195 Tithes 197 CONTENTS. Page. Poor Kates .198 Wages 199 Miscellaneous Expenses . . . .201 Misfortunes 202 A Farmer's Comforts 203 INTRODUCTION. I HAVE, at the moment of commencing the following little volume, two classes of readers in my view — the one belonging to the city; the other to the country. It is my design to benefit both. But, pray, what interest can one born in the city, and who expects there to spend his days, have in farming operations ? Let us see. Perhaps you are one day to become a mer- chant, a manufacturer, a lawyer, or a judge, and you are to live in a fine house, either in Boston or New York, or some other large city, and you ask, what have / to do with farming ? 12 INTRODUCTION. Now, you have an interest in your country — have you not? You desire her prosperity? But that prosperity depends greatly upon the fact, v^hether the farmers flourish or not. Sup- pose you become a merchant You build a large store, and import a great quantity of goods. You aim to sell to the farmers. But if they are not flourishing — if they cultivate their lands badly — if they are indolent — if they are unenlightened and ignorant — they will raise but small quantities of wheat and com, and prepare but little beef and pork for market. In such a case, what will become of your interest ? They cannot purchase your goods, for they have noth- ing with which to pay ; or if you trust them you will lose your debts. Thus, in either case, if the farmers flourish not, the merchants will not flourish. They may import sugar, and coffee, and tea, into the country, but it will turn to no INTRODUCTION. 13 profitable account, unless the farming interest flourishes. Should you become a manufacturer^ the same things hold true. You may erect large estab- lishments — gather many skilful artisans — and produce large quantities of excellent and useful articles. But what are they all worth, if there are no purchasers? And how can there be purchasers, if the farmers of the land are poor? They are a large class of the community. And if they are unable to purchase, you will have but a small demand for your cottons, your carpets, your nails, your axes, and the like. And besides, if the farming interest flags, as they say, who is to support the mechanics? Where will you obtain your wheat, your rye, your potatoes, your beef, your pork, and other necessaries, while you are carrying forward your manufacturing interests ? 14 INTRODUCTION. But perhaps you intend to become a lawyer or di judge. Well, these are honourable profes- sions — but even then you will be dependent upon farmers. For if they bring nothing to market, all your learning will not produce for you one loaf of bread, or serve up on your tables one roast turkey. You perceive then, city-born, and city -bred, as you may be, you have an interest in the prosperity of the farmers of the land. All other professions in Hfe are dependent upon this class of the community. Stop the cultiva- tion of the soil, and we could have no com- merce and no manufactures — w^e could have no large towns, nor splendid cities. People of the city are sometimes wont to look down upon those of the country. This is wrong. The profession of agriculture is most honourable and important. You may gather, INTRODUCTION. 15 from what I have said, somewhat of the depend- ence of all classes upon farmers. And hence you may learn the importance of knowing something about farming. The more you are acquainted with the subject, the more just sentiments you will entertain of its impor- tance — of Its pleasures — of its perplexities. You will perceive the justice of giving to the farmer a good price for what has cost him so much toil. You will encourage him by every means in your power, and on a wet day, or a cold morning in January, when he has come some ten or a dozen miles to bring you the rich productions of his land, you will not be so much disposed to get a ''good bargairC^ at his expense. Besides, with some knowledge of farming you will be better able to judge of the qualities of the products which are brought to market. IG INTRODUCTION. Farmers generally know more than others by inspection about the fine or poor qualities of wheat and rye — of corn and potatoes. And such knowledge would be valuable to you, in almost any department of life, especially if you should one day have a family, and need to purchase the materials of living for them. And lastly, I would set forth to my city readers the value of some acquaintance with farming on the score of pleasure. You some- times make excursions into the country. What a gratification to be able to make the distinction between good and bad husbandry! What a source of pleasure to be able to pronounce, in any given case, whether a farm is well taken care of — to determine whether a field is well ploughed! — or well mowed! — or well reaped! — to decide as to the good or bad qualities of INTRODUCTION. 17 the horses, or cattle, or sheep, or swine, which you notice as you pass along. Some knowledge on these points you may obtain without spending an apprenticeship to farming. You may learn much from books. And it is one design of this Uttle volume to impart some just ideas on the subject for your benefit. But I write for another class also. I expect a portion of my readers belong to the country. They are the young farmers of the land — the bones and sinews of society — coming forward rapidly, and every thing wdll soon depend upon them. I need not dwell long on the importance to this class of a thorough knowledge of farming. I might with as much propriety talk of skill to the tailor in handling his sheers and his needle. Every one knows this. And many farmers 2 B 18 INTRODUCTION. know that without a thorough acquaintance with their business, they are liable to make poor crops and "to come out at the little end of the horn," as the saying is. But leaving so plain a point as this, I would say a few w^ords to my young friends in the country on the dignity and independence of their employment. The life of a farmer is indeed employed about the earth. But it is no mean concern. Cincin- natus was a farmer. Washington was a farmer. And in older times Abraham cultivated flocks and herds — and David, who in after years sat upon the throne of Israel, was himself a shep- herd. No man in society is so independent as the farmer. He hves more entirely within him- self than any other class. He raises the neces- saries, and not a few of the comforts and luxuries of hfe. Nor is any profession more dignified, INTRODUCTION. 19 or more removed from temptations to pride and vice. What a delightful spot in this w^orld of briers and thorns is the habitation, w^ith its surrounding acres, of an honest, industrious, thrifty farmer ! What an air of neatness and comfort all things wear ! Even the grass seems to look greener than elsewhere — the shrubbery, all weeded out, smiles forth in the beauty of its flowers — the well trimmed trees put forth a richer fohage — the cattle seem to feel their superiority — the lambs skip somewhat more gaily, and even chanticleer raises his clarion voice some notes higher. I love to dwell on such a scene ; and I would wish to inspire my litde readers in the country with contentment with their allotment. They are among the most happy, honored, and blessed of this world. At least they may easily become so. And although the business of farming is 20 INTRODUCTION. sometimes depressed, and is always a slow mode of gaining wealth; yet it is a far more sm*e method than by means of trade, in which every thing almost is fluctuating and insecure. A merchant's goods may easily be consumed, and his debtors may fail to pay him his honest dues. But the acres of the farmer are fire-proof and fast anchored. If he possesses but little, that little is comparatively sure. The man of wealth in the city, who rides in his coach to-day, may not even have a wagon to ride in to-morrow. But the farmer generally has this latter vehicle, at all times. One thing farther, before I conclude this introduction. This little volume, to which I introduce mf readers, is principally the work of an English author. It tells much about English husbandry. I have introduced into it some account of husbandry in the United States. I INTRODUCTION. 21 was the more willing to avail myself of the advantages of this work, as it will serve to give some just notions of the English style of farm- ing, which in some respects is superior to our own, especially as to neatness and order. En- glishmen, who visit us, are sometimes disgusted with the appearance of our farms and our villages, for in their own land they are accus- tomed to see them adorned by th-e hand of system and taste. Let my little readers rivet well this matter in their minds. Should they ever become farmers, let them not forget that neatness and order are among the cardinal virtues of a good farmer. Without them, he cannot prosper, nor will his house and home be long pleasant to him. Besides, these are important in point of moral influence. Persons who are neat and attentive to method are more likely to be good, than the 22 INTRODUCTION. slovenly and the careless. Fix well then 'in your minds the old maxim, for it is worth a thousand times more than its weight of gold, "Have a place for every thing, and keep every thing in its place." I shall conclude my introduction with some useful lines, which I think it would be well for every young farmer to learn — and every old farmer to practise : — Let order o'er your time preside, And method all your business guide. One thing at once, be still begun. Contrived, resolved, pursued, and done ; Ne'er till to-morrow's light delay, What might as well be done to-day. Neat be your bams, jour houses neat, Your doors be clean : your court-yards sweet ; Neat be your barns ; 'tis long confessed, The neatest farmers are the best. THE FARM-HOUSE. I SHALL begin by presenting to my readers a view of a farm-house, and as I happen to have only an engraving of an English one, I shall present them v^ith that. See the frontispiece. The name of the house is Peak Hall, or as the country people in England usually call it, ^'Gablesides.^^ It was formerly the residence of a wealthy lord in Essex, in which county it is situated. It was not originally designed for a farm-house. Yet it is now the delightful resi- dence of a thrifty English farmer, who has some four hundred acres of excellent land about him, and who cultivates it in the neat and 24 THE FARM-HOUSE. excellent manner of the English farmer. The house obtained not either of those names with- out a cause ; for its roof-peaks, or gable-ends, are no fewer than twelve in number. Three of them form the roof on one side; two on another; three at the back. Two projections for staircases have each a gable ; and the very- roomy porch in front has two. The building is all of red brick, and exhibits in front some curi- ous sculptured ornaments in that material. The windows are of diamond quarry glass, and, like those of churches, have strong stone muUions, or partitions, instead of wooden frames. The ivy on the further side has crept unmolested nearly to the garret windows; and hangs nodding from the porch-roof in a very pictu- resque manner. Two enormous six-columned chimneys stand twenty-five feet higher than the ridge tiles, and give a sort of dignity to the THE FARM-HOUSE. 25 building. The front door is six feet wide, seven feet high, and nearly three inches thick. It is studded with eight hundred and nine iron knobs ; it has an iron grating, about six inches square, through which to parley with strangers after night-fall ; and it swings on hinges, reach- ing the whole width of the door. The sides of the porch have twisted spiral balusters, through which to look, without going from under shelter. It must not be imagined that the front of this ancient dwelling, pretty and remarkable as it is, can be seen completely from the road leading nearest to it. The farming buildings, as is common in soxne parts of England, stand nearly before it. The long barn and cow-sheds, if they did not stand on rather lower ground, would hide the house altogether. The frontis- piece gives as good a view as can be taken, and is from a spot at a short distance from the bridge. C 26 FARMING BUILDINGS. As in farming we have a good deal to d\.» with acres, I may as well state here, that four thousand eight hundred and forty square yards make one square acre, and that each side of that space will therefore be about sixty-nine yards and a half long. Each acre contains four roods, each rood forty poles, and each pole rather more than thirty yards. Our farm-yard occupies, with the various buildings, about five roods, or an acre and a quarter. The buildings are principally these: — two great barns; sta- bles; two granaries; hay -barns, cow-houses, piggeries, hen-houses, pigeon-houses, and a cottage for our head man and his family; though this scarcely stands in the yard. There is a railed partition, forming, with the hedges, an inclosure, called the rick-yard. In this part stand now four stacks of hay, containing, together, about two hundred loads ; five stacks 28 THE RICK-YARD AND BARN. of wheat-corn; two of clover-hay; a bean- stack or two; a fagot-stack; and a tolerably large one of straw. Towards the north the cattle yard is fenced by a haulm, or stubble- wall, which has lasted, and is likely to continue several years. I must now describe a little more particu- larly the buildings. First, the bams. These, on the usual plan, are oblong structures. The largest is nearly sixty feet in length, and about thirty-five feet wide. This space is divided into three parts : the middle, reaching across the barn, from door to door, is called the floor ; being laid with stout and smooth oak boards, — so smooth, as most boys know they usually are, that a good shde may be had upon them ; — and a bad one, if a projecting nail catch the foot, and cause an unlucky fall. This part, on which wagons enter to deposit their loads, pass- THE GRANARIES. 29 ing out at the opposite doors, is separated from the sides, called bays^ by planks or rails, a few feet high. In the bays the corn is stacked, ready for threshing. A small granary is inclos- ed in one corner of this bam. As to the principal granary, I remember trying to shew my wisdom once, by saying that it was nonsense to set it upon legs, and make men ascend with heavy sacks on step-ladders. The twelve stone pillars on which it stands have each a projecting cap, like a mushroom top ; at which I also laughed, as being utterly useless, till my uncle told me he thought / had a mushroom top, not to know that granaries were so built to keep a floor free from wet ; and that the pillars were capped to prevent rats and mice from climbing into the place, where they would be glad enough to obtain board and lodging. The granary has sun- 30 STABLES AND HAY-BARNS. dry bins or partitions for various grain and seeds. The stables have stalls for fourteen horses, including two of better quality for our own riding nags. I need say nothing about racks and hay-lofts, which are equally common in town or country. The hay-barns are like roofs of houses set on very tall legs, with opening weather-boards extending part of the way down, something like those of a brew-house. Hay, stacked therein, of course requires no thatching; but I always think that is the sweetest which stands in the open air. The cow-houses consist of a long range of sheds, for milking principally, and for nursing the calves. These have stalls, with moveable frames of wood, made to receive the head of the cow, and detain it, lest the animal should cow-houses, piggeries, &c. 31 turn and throw down the milk, or otherwise interrupt the process. Piggeries and dove- cotes need not be described, as they may be seen in other situations. The brew-house and bake-house join the dwelling. I have ranged the farm-yard with my note- book in my hand, and can find nothing more to detain us at present, unless it be to notice some large wooden frames, which are used as cow- cribs, to contain winter fodder for cattle. In the mean time I will ascend a rising ground, whence the greater part of the farm can be surveyed. Our four hundred acres con- sist of about thirty-five inclosures, divided, as is common in this country, and other wood- land parts, by ditches and hedge-rows, gar- nished with the varied forms of stately timber and flowery leafy shrubs. Of those inclosures twenty-one are arable, or plough-land, amount- 32 SIZE OF GABLE-SIDES FARM. ing to about three hundred acres out of the four hundred. The rest is pasture, meadow, wood, or waste, including roads and paths. Most fields belonging to every large farm in the United States have names, by which they are designated ; such as the mill-lot^ shop-lot, &c. These are generally derived from some pecu- harities of shape, soil, or situation. Some from accidents, or incidents of life and husbandry. A few are difficult to account for : but as our coun- try has been recently settled, the origin of most of our farm-lot names is well known. But in England, it is otherwise. In that country par- ticular lots are more commonly named than with us : yet the occasion of their names has been extensively lost. The farm of Gable-sides, some account of which has been given, pre- sents a curious specimen of the manner in which NAMES OF THE FIELDS. 33 lots are named in England. On this farm we read of Fore Field ; Back Field ; Twenty Acres; Bridge Field; Bushy Croft; Little Bushy Croft; Mill Hoppet ; Acre Piece; Flamsted Meads; Stony Field; Path Field; Pond Field; Little Go; Wood Side; Parish Field; Brook Field; Topsey Wood; Long Mead ; Shoulder- of 'Mutton Field ; Great Hide ; Little Hide ; May Field; Pig^s-Mutton Field ; J\^ew Slip; Pole-hurst Side; Steeple Land; Steward^ s Corner; Eleigh Plot; Five Farthing Close; Abbofs Bury ; Oak Field ; Hatch Field ; Lane Field; Peak End; Downshire Bottom. These are the well-known inclosures and plots of Gable-sides Farm. A word of expla- nation with regard to a term or two in the list will be important. A hoppet is in Essex, and some other parts of England, a small piece of ground, usually near the house, elsewhere call- 3 34 EXPLANATION OF NAMES. ed a paddock. Flamsted [formed of sted, Saxon for a place, and flam or flame,^ indicates the situation of some village conflagration, of which the tradition still remains. Little Go is merely a short cut, or track-way, into the high road, passable only in summer. Gi^eat Hide and Little Hide: — the word hide was much used formerly for a plot or parcel of land ; because measuring thongs were cut from the hide of a bullock, and as much as one skin, thus lengthen- ed out, would inclose, was called '^ a hide of landJ^ In the days of William the Conqueror, this phrase was used for a hundred acres. As to Pig^s- Miitton Field, the story is merely this, that a sheep, many years ago, was killed there, and nearly devoured by a ravenous sow; but I rather doubt the tale. Pole-hurst Si^e reminds us of a neighbouring copse, or thicket ; hurst, or rather htjrst, being the old Saxon word for a EXPLANATIOIN OF NAMES. 35 grove. Steeple Land is a roundish knoll, of some height, from which spot the distant spire of Danbury Church can be occasionally seen. Abbofs Bury refers to some dwelling, or spot, connected with an abbot's history; — bury mean- ing simply a residence. Lastly, Downshire Bot- tom is a low marshy field, near the brook. The word shire, from the Saxon verb, which means to divide, is seldom used but for the great parti- tions of the kingdom into counties. Sometimes, however, as in the case of the Gable-sides Farm, it has an application, of smaller impor- tance, to the situation of a particular estate. 36 TILLAGE. We find, that, even in Paradise, man had employment appointed him; the object of which was, to aid nature in the production of food for his subsistence. It is true, that the va- rieties of the earth's provision were designed by the Almighty, without any of our contrivance, and that these have always grown in a way that the understanding of man has not been able even to comprehend. But, ignorant as we are, and vain as would be our attempt to inter- fere with the designing part of creation, we can do much by observation, and the exercise of our reasoning and bodily powers : marking what circumstances of an external kind have an influence upon these things ; — what is favoura- TILLAGE. 37 ble, and what injurious ; so that skill and labour ma)' arrange matters to improve the desired result. God entrusts the fitful gales of heaven to scatter innumerable seeds, which are to produce food or shelter for myriads of inferiour animals, or to deck the wilderness with flowers. But he employs a more regular and important agency, for the spread and cultivation of those plants which are especially destined for the iupport of man, and of those creatures which subserve his wants ; — even the mind and hand of the great consumer, man himself. It is not presumption to say that man assists the pur- poses of nature, any more than to affirm that the motions of the elements may do the same. The Creator appoints and employs the instru- ment, whatever it bCy whether an intelligent or inanimate machine ; and. we may, therefore, as truly admire his work and wisdom in the fruits 38 TILLAGE. of human art and labour, as in any of those natural wonders, in the formation of which the busy brain and finger of our race have had nothing at all to do. Things are so ordered, excepting in a very few spots of the globe, that nature performs but little for man, unless man, in his turn, per- form something for nature. She gives an abundance of materials and inducements, and then says, "Work! Work!" If, instead of obeying this reasonable injunction, we merely reach forth an indolent hand to receive her bounties, she usually bestows them in diminish- ing and inferiour portions, until, at length, our very necessities are unsupplied. In few coun- tries, unless, indeed, within the tropical climates, the inhabitants scarcely exist a year on the mere donations of the soil and of the skies. It is as true, that the great mass of the people TILLAGE. 39 througlioiit the globe must work, Us that they must eat. They must ply well their brains and their hands, or the table even of the cottager will lose its plainest viands. Persons brought up in cities, are too apt to think that grass and corn, beef and mutton, grow as matters of course ; and that the countryman has nothing to do but to cut and eat. I hope to be able, before I have done, to shew my young friends that this is quite a mistake. We will now take a little notice of those processes of moving the soil, which constitute the art of tillage. The plough is, and has been, the grand im- plement of husbandry for this purpose, amongst all civilized nations. The form and power have varied much, as they now do in different coun- ries; but the intent and general result have >een the same as far back as the ancient coins 40 THE PLOUGH. of Greece and Rome take us, many of which represent this noted agricultural machine, drawn by cattle and guided by a man, as now. We cannot go farther into the history of the plough at present. As it was found, that the more the soil is loosened, stirred, and broken, the greater are its powers of production ; it became needfv^ ^o contrive some means of THE PLOUGH. * 41 performing this operation on a large scale, in the most expeditious and successful manner. Spade husbandry, as it is cpJled, does as well, perhaps better, where it can be accomplished ; but millions of acres cannot thus be tilled. In order, therefore, to move as much soil in as little time as possible, the plough was con- structed. It consists of many parts; as the coulter J the share and breast^ the handles^ rail, chains, &lc. The ploughshare and breast, which are the principal acting parts in turning over the soil, consist of a broad and smooth surface of iron, having a sharp and taper toe, which enters, like a wedge, and** heaves the earth off towards the right side. The coulter is a sort of knife, which is placed before the share, to cut the ground and detach the por- tion ready for it there. The engraving repre- sents one of the common sort. D 42 ' THE PLOUGHMAN. The terms '^ ploughman^^ and '' clod-hopper^^ are used in a sneering and vulgar way, by many who do not possess nearly the skill and knowledge of the humble peasant who guides this important machine. In the first place, the parts of it are by him adjusted to a very great nicety, with screws, hooks, and wedges, ac- cording to the kind of furrow required; — and then the direction of this in straight and pa- rallel courses ; the management, by the voice, of the horses — although a boy helps to guide them ; the turning and returning correctly; and the arranging of the furrows in slightly rising curves, or Idnds^ as they are sometimes called, to lay them dry, with water-courses between; — all these duties require the ploughman to have a correct eye, a strong and steady hand, and -a clear head for his business — which qualifications make a man of a sort that THE PLOUGHMAN. 43 none but extremely ignorant persons can de- spise. Ploughing is often repeated, in various way3 before the land is sufficiently stirred and broken to make a good tilth. For this purpose, thr field is, sometimes, crossed and rr "TOSsed, in different directions ; but if not, the ends of the furrows must be made good by a few cross furrows, called head-lands. But, after all the plough can do, the clods are still by far too rough and large to receive the seer^ until another engine has been employed. 44 THE HARROW. This is the Harrow, a strong and heavy frame of wood, having a number of iron spikes fixed in it, to form a kind of rake for the sur- face. In the United States, the wedge harrow is chiefly used. It is so called from its being shaped much like a wedge. In England, the square harrow, like that represented in the cut, IS mostly used. The latter are now not unfre- quent among us. In this country, we generally MANURE. 45- use but one, which is drawn by oxen ; but in England three or four of these are frequently chained together, and drawn by two of more horses ; they produce a great effect in cutting, crumbling, and levelling the clods, which are also, in some cases, further broken down by the action of a ponderous wooden roller. But the utmost skill in the performance of these mechanical processes will not ensure a good return, unless the master's management be also good. As the husbandman needs food and rest, so does the soil, where the kind of produce called a crop is expected. The food of land is Manure ; its rest is laying it down either for feeding, or a Fallow. Manure consists of various animal, vegetable, and mineral substances, selected according to the soil and the intended crop. With respect to animals, there is no part of them which does 46 MANURE. not, by dissolution, become a most useful ingre- dient for the restoration of an exhausted soil- Besides, therefore, the commonest kind of manure, any refuse of the butcher and the fishmonger, the soap-maker and the sugar- boiler, is acceptable to the farmer; — who, of course, has in this respect an advantage, if at no great distance from places where these are to be procured. Lime, salt, burnt earth, sand and shells, soap- ashes, and I know not how many other things, with decayed vegetable matter, are applied to the earth, as a sort of re-payment, for which, however, she always accounts with high interest. Meadows pay well for the best manure, but will be mended much, even by more earth sprinkled on the sward. There are many 'other things essential to good tillage, which the experienced and intelli- WEEDING AND LAND-DITCHING. 47 gent farmer attends to, as he sees occasion ^ - shall mention only weeding^ or cleaning the land, and land- ditching. The best opportunity for getting the field clear of weeds, roots, and other such matters, is afforded by the fallow. The ground is then at liberty to admit of continued ploughings ; and of thistle and dock-irons, or bush-hooks, to eradicate those troublesome in- truders, for which they are intended ; and, if necessary, of the shovel and mattock, to remove suekers and roots of trees. Weeding, how- ever, goes on to a great extent with the hoe and other instruments, as we have seen, when the crops are up. Land-ditching, or draining on certain humid soils, is almost as necessary as any other act of husbandry ; indeed, without this, in many cases, all other tillage would be labour in vain. Where water hangs in the land, on or near the surface, 48 DRAINING LAND. very long together, it checks the vegetation of farming crops, so as to compel the husbandman to adopt a remedy. This ^remedy consists in draining. Drains are of various kinds. In the United States we use chiefly open drains. But in England, where the farmers are pecuharly nice, and wish to make the most of the land, both as to appearance and produce, they em- ploy covered drains, or gutters, sometimes call- ed in that country thoroughs. These are generally from eighteen to twenty-four indhes >n depth, thrown across the land in such direc- tions as shall best suit the discharge of the water to the ditches at the borders of the field. When this is done, bushes are thrust in, and on them a close covering of straw is placed. On this the earth may be securely laid. A hollow, sufficient for the water-passage, is thereby ob- tained, and no indications of the work are visi- DRAINING LAND. 49 ble above, except the superiour fertility of the spot, which, indeed, is sometimes distinctly to be traced in lines corresponding to the drains beneath. By this means the beauty of the field is preserved, besides that no land is wasted. Meadows and pasture land do not of course require, or admit, of the labour of arable fields. Nevertheless, they need attention ; and if the land be at all good, they fully repay it. Grass lands, like others, will, in a short time, be over- run with weeds and suckers from trees, if neglected. Instruments are invented, there- fore, as we have seen, to delve these out ; and the more diligently they are used the better ; for even the grass is rendered more vigorous by the movement of the soil thus occasioned. The herbage also needs renewal sometimes, by having fresh hay-seeds, &c. scattered over it. 4 E 50 BUSH-HARROWING. I have said that meadows want good manur- ing: this is usually done in. frosty weather, when the heavy cart does not cut the sward. After this supply has been spread by the fork, the stones, shells, and other rubbish, which may have been brought on, are carefully picked up and removed. Soon after, the field should be bush-harrowed^ with a machine formed of bundles of thorny shrubs, attached to a heavy wooden frame, which, being drawn up and down by a horse, combs and scratches the manure and loose earth about. Then comes the roller — a huge cylinder of wood, made to turn and support a timber frame of great weight, which sometimes is further increased by laying upon it a heavy piece of timber, a wagon-wheel, or some such ponderous body. This machine presses the earth and roots close, and levels many little hillocks which would HEDGING AWD DITCHING. 51 otherwise encounter the mower's scythe, and take off its edge. During the winter season, farmers in the United States emplov themselves in a variety of useful ways, such as menci'mg broken imple- ments ; threshing and carrying their produce to market ; and m laymg in a sufficient stock of wood, for the year. This generally occupies much time, and is among the most laborious services to which they are called. In England the farmers have the advantage in being able to carry on a still greater variety of operations, by reason of the superiour mild- ness of the climate. They repair hedges and ditches, and clear lands cf stumps, roots, and the like ; wh'ch wo are prevented doiag unless at particular seasons. I have spoken of the hedges of "England. In this country we know little of this mode of en- 52 HEDGING AND DITCHING. closing our fields — our method being either with rails or stone. But in that country they make extensive use of he^dges and ditches. Some account of this mode of dividing enclo- sures in that country will be interesting and instructive. Several different shrubs and trees are made use of for hedges, such as the white-thorn, black-thorn, furze, holly, &lc. But the white- thorn is the most proper for fences, as it grows quickly, is very durable, and makes a handsome appearance. In Germany, the farmers make use of a tree called the horn-beam. In the United States some attempts have been made to form hedges. Mr. Quincy, near Boston, several years since, set out ten thousand of the American Hedge-Thorn, which he obtained from Virginia. But they have not flourished well, nor are they found so well adapted to the HEDGING AND DITCHING 53 purpose of hedges, as the English White-Thorn, of which I have spoken. The manner of forming a hedge and ditch by the English farmer is as follows: — First, the ground is carefully marked out, and a line stretched along it, to guide the digger. Next, he pares off the turf, if any, and rolls it on one side. Then he proceeds to remove the earth, to the width, perhaps, of about five feet at top, and slopes the sides down to the depth, it may be, of three feet, with a bottom of one foot wide, throwing the soil up on one side, ready to be formed into the bank. If the purpose be merely to divide land occupied by the same person, it may not signify on which side the embankment is made. But if it is to be a par- tition between, say my estate and my neigh- bour's, I must not, of course, intrude upon his ground at all, either for hedge or ditch. The 54 HEDGING AND DITCHING. boundary line therefore between us, I must make the further side of my ditch ; the earth I must lay on my own ground ; so that hedge and ditch both belong to me. Good workmanship is very conspicuous in hedging and ditching performed by a competent hand. The sides, edges, and bottom, are ex- pected to be as true to their proper form as if wrought in a brick-mould. If they are not so, the water hangs, where it ought to run, the bank crumbles down, and the employer very justly complains. The bank is plantec with young hedge-shrubs, or sown with furze or broom, or else furnished with a dead fence of bushes stuck in and wattled together. Old hedges are much improved by thinning, topping, and laying. A quantity of the old wood is taken out. The younger branches are then chopped nearly off, close to the root, taking hedg:.%g and r tching. 55 care always to leave a small width of the living bark. The branches are then laid down almost horizontally, and tied to stakes, or to each other. The consequence is, those branches ^ instead of growing, as before, to an useless height and scanty at bottom, send forth a multitude of *;noots, which thicken the lower part of the hedge; nor does the wound inflicted by the nedge-hook make any material difference in the growth, after the first season. The hedges which we have thus described, Avhen flourishing, present a beautiful appearance, and add much to the rural aspect of the coun- try. They are generally accompanied by a ditch, the hedge alone, especially when young, being insuflficient to -arn cattle. In the fox- chase, or in deer hunting, of which the English are remarkably fond, it often becomes necessary to leap these hedges and ditches The hcrses 56 HEDGING . ND DITCHING. called "hunters" are trained to this service, and often become surprisingly skilful in passing them. Yet, it is always accompanied with danger both to rider and horse, and sad and even fatal accidents sometimes occur. A plea- sant allusion is made to this kind of leap in the celebrated story of Monsieur Tonson, which is no doubt quite familiar to most of Cr^r little readers. " If e'er a pleasant mischief sprung to view, At once o'er hedge and ditch away he flew, Nor left the game till he had ran it down." The winter, in England, is a convenient time also to mend roads, public and private ; but in the United States this is generally done in the summer and autumn. Both in this country and that, the farmer is allowed, instead of pay .'in g money for that purpose, to employ his: ''am i n 1 DESTRUCTION OF VERMIN. 57 carts for the repair of those roads in his parish which are not provided for by toll-gates. Winter, though not the season, generally, for military enterprise, is not a bad time for the farmer to proceed against very many of his enemies, with any advantages of arms, engines, and generalship, which he may possess. The enemies which I now refer to, are rats, mice, and weasels ; many kinds of birds and insects ; and last, but not least in mischievous impor- tance, many tribes of four-footed game ! With regard to all these, no qualification for killing them is needful, but the power of catching or finding them; and for this purpose, various schemes and arts, and clever ones too, are made use of. In the United States much less attention is paid to the destruction of such crea- tures as prey upon and injure our crops, than In England. In this latter country rat-catching 58 RAT AND MOLE CATCHING. and mole-catching are professions by them- selves, which are useful to the community as many of higher reputation. As moles burrow and pass in long subterranean passages, but near the surface, the catcher inserts, in the track- way of the little miner, a spring trap, the catch of which is attached to a strong stick, thrust in the ground, and bent down with force, so as to rise and pull violently a string to which the under-ground snare is attached. The animal in passing, is thus noosed and choked without the possibility of escape. The mole-catcher has two-pence or three-pence a-piece for every mole he destroys. Rats and mice are destroyed in various ways, and to a great extent, by dogs, and cats, and owls, which are more useful in a farm -yard, than many persons who are paid in money to do their work. Otherwise they are taken by traps RAT AND MOLE CATCHING. 59 and snares, or destroyed by poison. They are, however, rarely got rid of entirely, when even all these methods are continually adopted. The other animals of the mischievous sorts are de- stroyed by the gun, when seen. GO PRODUCE OF THE FARM. We have taken a little notice of the farm^ and the husbandman's needful labours upon it, befoKe he can enjoy the fruits. Let us now see what those products are; how he gathers them in, and disposes of them for his benefit. It is evident that these things consist of varieties of the vegetable or animal kingdoms of nature. We will attend to vegetables first, for they were man's first food, and occupied his earliest agricultural thoughts. The vegetables chiefly cultivated in the United States, for the food or use of man, are of three principal kinds: — grain, or seeds ; PRODUCE OF THE FARM. 61 roots ; and the herbs whose substance chiefly is used for food or manufacture. In the first class, I include the principal spe- cies of grain or corn, as the English people call all kinds of grain, and some other seeds : as wheat, oats, barley, rye, peas, beans, tares, &c. In the second division, we have potatoes? turnips, parsnips, carrots, and mangel-wurtzel. In the third class, we must put the species of grass, clover, and other pasture plants ; toge- ther with hops, hemp, flax, teasels, &c. Now I do not pretend to say that my list, or arrangement, will include, by any means, all the plants which may be found on farm lands : indeed I could easily add many others which I can call to mind; but they are not grown in quantity, or for purposes of nearly equal im- portance with those I have named; and are, 62 WHEAT. perhaps, in many cases, only sown by way of experiment. Neither must it be thought that all the plants and products which I have named and describ- ed, are grown on every farm. Some lands grow no barley, potatoes, or turnips; and I scarcely ever knew a farmer who attempted aL in one season. Wheat. — This, to the civilized world at least, is the first, in importance and value, of all grain. There are several sorts ; but I do not see that I have room and opportunity to distin- guish them much in this little book. So I shall only say, that we farmers talk chiefly of white, red, and spring wheat. I dare say if man had been employed to contrive or invent a seed, or fruit, for the chief support of his race, he would have made it WHEAT. b[i nearer in size to a quartern loaf, than is the diminutive grain of corn, which Nature has thought the best form and bulk for the purpose. SPRING WHEAT. COMMON WHEAT. Of this kernel, or corn, a considerable part is husk, which adheres so closely, that it is needful to bruise the whole together, and sift 64 * WHEAT. out the meal, to separate it. Yet there is •'bread enough, and to spare," as far as quan- tity is concerned, wherever the wickedness, the folly, or the indolence of man, does not defeat or check the powers of nature, and of his own skill and industry. It is a remarkable fact, and one which ought to impress us with sentiments of admiration and gratitude towards the great and good Author of Nature, that wheat, the best of grain, will grow and thrive in almost any chmate where vegetables consti- tute the food of man. From the equator to the very borders of the polar regions, this con- stant friend endures the scorching beams, or braves the northern blasts, and comes, a golden gift, alike to the sun-burnt fainting African, and the snow-wrapt Muscovite. Seeing that it bears such extremes of climate, spreading from zone to zone on the globe, it is not wonderful SOWING WHEAT. 65 that it sustains better than any other corn the fticlemencies of our own changeful skies, and the disadvantages of our most unfavourable seasons. Wheat may be compared to a very sensible person, who likes and enjoys good things as well as any one, but can put up with bad circumstances better than most other per- sons. It thrives in a temperate climate, a fine shining season, a rich soil, and under good management ; yet, when all these are reversed, so that other things perish, this hardy plant will Uve, produce its seed, and supply, in some measure, the table of even the least worthy husbandman. Wheat, for the main crops, is always sown in the autumn, and generally on land which has been a fallow the preceding season, or which has produced some different crop, and been well manured. It was the general practice of 5 F 66 SOWING WHEAT. the ancients, and has been of the moderns, to steep the seed in hquors of a briny kind, before sowing ; some, hoWever, think that water alone BUCK WHEAT. is just as good ; the benefit being rather, by the means of a fluid, to separate faulty seeds, which swun at the top, and are easily skimmed off, SOWING WHEAT. 67 than to impart additional powers of growth. The land having been prepared by the plough and harrow, in the manner before explained, the seed is to be sown. There are three prin- cipal methods of performing this operation: — namely, by broadcast, by dibbing, or by the drill. The first is no doubt the most ancient way; and considerable skill is required from, and practised by, the husbandman, in perform- ing this part of his duty. His w^alk, his throw, his grasp, must each be accurately timed and measured, or his ground and seed would be greatly wasted, by having some spaces scarcely supplied, and others so overdone, that the plant would fail for want of room. He steps along the furrows with great regularity, and flings at such intervals, and in such quantities, as will ensure the designed allowance, which varies a little according to circumstances, — about two 68 SOWING WHEAT. bushels to the acre is usual. It is afterwards harrowed in, and sometimes even ploughed; and in a few days or weeks the tiny tender blade appears, which has to endure the utmost rigour of our winter season. Nothing but experience could persuade us that this is the best way to ensure the ensuing harvest. Wheat of a certain sort is, indeed, sown in the spring ; but this is apt to produce straw, rather than corn. The previous growth of the root is needful, to sustain the productive ears. The slender and blackened appearance of the blade in winter does not much discou- rage the farmer. The spring will impart strength and freshness to the blade, unless the roots, by being thrown from the earth by the frost, should become, as the farmers term it, " winter killed." To prevent this, a heavy roll should be applied in the spring, which serves to settle the roots, SOWING WITH THE DRILL. 69 and enables them to obtain sufficient and timely aliment. Wheat that is dibbed, or dibbled, is dropped, two or three kernels at a time, into holes, made by a man with a pointed instrument in the shape of a T. This he holds by the cross piece, and thrusts the longer leg, w^hich is pointed with iron, into the ground, at the dis- tance of a few inches, with considerable quick- ness as he w^alks. Children usually follow, and drop the seed into the holes which he makes. This mode of sowing wheat is un- known in the United States, but is not uncom- mon in England. The drill is too complex a machine to be ac- curately described, or understood here. It is a sort of box, containing the wheat, borne on two ivheels, and drawn by horses. The wheels, as 70 BARLEY. they go round, give motion to a sort of cylinder within the box, in which are fixed instruments, like tea-spoons, at proper distances. Under- neath are cutting irons, which form grooves, or drills, to receive the seed, as it is delivered from the spoons ; and the process is thus completed with mechanical precision, such as pleases the eye, when the plant issues from the soil. However, the advantages of this contri- vance, on the whole, are not so great, but that most of the English farmers proceed by the old method still. We must now leave the wheat- field for a season. Barley is a grain and ear more nearly re- sembung wheat than any other grain. The character by which any may distinguish it, is the brush, or beard, consisting of long slender BARLEY. 71 spikes, or needles, which proceed from each kernel, and extend considerably beyond the ear. The principal use of barley is for making WINTER BARLEY. SPRING BARLEY. beer; in order for Which, it first undergoes a process, called malting. It is also ground for 72 OATS. bread in some countries ; and is used also a.:J food for hogs. It has, besides, many medici- nal virtues. This grain is always sown in the spring of the year, in dry weather. Some of the early sorts are ready in nine or ten weeks. It is sometimes sown at two operations, and afterwards rolled, to press the earth close, and level it for the mower. It should be rolled when it has been up two or three weeks, which causes the plant to produce a greater number of stems. Oats.- — This is a beautiful variety of the corn tribe. The grain remains not in its case or ear, as in the former sorts, but, starting thence, hangs in single kernels, depending from the stalk, having a very light and graceful ap- pearance. The minute seeds of various grasses OATS. 73 are thus arranged, and form some of the most elegant of vegetable structures. The principal OATS. variety of oats cultivated m the United States is the while kind. In England they have in G 74 RYE. addition a black kind. White oats are most common near London, and black oats in the north. Dr. Johnson, who bore no kindly feeling towards Scotchmen and their country, said, in the first editions of his Dictionary, that oats were " food for horses in England, and men in Scot- land." I have said that wheat will grow almost any where; but there are many places where it does not thrive^ and yet oats will do very well. In poor lands and wet seasons, these take less harm than other corn; and good oats may make even better bread than bad wheat. They are sown here sometimes in March, but gene- rally not till April. Rye is an inferiour grain, the ear of which somewhat resembles that of barley. It is, R fZ. 75 however, much used for bread, especially in the New-England states. In England, it is sown chiefly as pasture food for cattle. Rye, RYE. of a bad quality, has, it is said, proved poison- ous to its consumers, in some seasons. 76 PULSE, CROPS, &c. These are so called, because they are sup- posed to be gathered by pulling^ not by mow- ing or reaping; but, considered as farming produce, the meaning does not, in that respect, apply. The chief pulse crops are peas and beans. These grow in pods. Of Peas we have many varieties, both early and late. They are extensively cultivated for the table, and are considered a rich and not unhealthful food. In the state of Vermont and In some of the western states, great quantities are raised as food for horses and swine. They PEAS AND BEANS. 77 also find their way into market, and are sold for soup and other table requisites. These last are generally called field-peas. FIELD-PEA. Field-Beans in England, are chiefly raised for horses. In that country, the kind raised is smaller and darker coloured than the garden 78 TARES. sorts. In the United States, especially in New- England, the white kind is most generally approved, and furnishes an excellent food for the table. Beans often yield a good crop, even on poor, sandy, or gravelly soil. With proper care this crop is as valuable as a wheat crop. TARE. In England they raise another sort of j4iibe called Tares, or Vetches, which are a small cow CABBAGES. 79 sort of beans ; grown not for the sake of the seed, but for the green herb, as cattle food. They are generally sowed early enough to allow of being fed off, or cut, so as to make room for a crop of turnips afterwards; or, if the land is to be prepared for a wheat crop, they are ploughed in as manure. Cow Cabbages, called also drum-heads^ are grown on some farms in England to a conside- rable extent, and to a very large size. We know Uttle about them in this country for cattle. The original stock, from which the cultivated cabbage is derived, and from which also colewort, borecole, cauliflowers, and brocoli, have been obtained, grows on cliffs by the sea- side, in the counties of Kent, Cornwall, York- shire, and in Wales. In the wild state, we should scarcely know this plant as a cabbage ; 80 MUSTARD SEED. the leaves being few and extended, and destitute of the heart wnicn is obtained by culture. MUSTARD. Mustard. — Of this plant there are two species, the black and the white ; both natives of Great Britain. The wliite mustard is seldom MUSTARD. 81 cultivated in the United States, but is common in parts of England, where the plant is used as a salad. The seed is much used in its whole or unbroken state, as a medicine. In Spain, and some other countries of Europe, it is ground and used on the table, and is preferred, on account of its giving a whiter and milder flour, to the seed of the black. Black mustard is chiefly cultivated in fields for the mill, and for medicinal purposes. It is extensively raised botl^ in the United States and in England, but chiefly in small patches. It is sowed either in drills or broad-cast. The time of sowing is March or April, and the crop is gathered in July or August. Vegetables in less demand than those I have named, or which are grown for the purposes of medicine or manufactures, do not form usual crops on farms in general; such as saffi-on, 6 82 SAFFRON. madder, coriander, caraway, and some others. Besides these, there are plants of vast impor- tance for their respective uses, which are not to be met with hke corn and hay ; as hops, hemp, flax, and teasels. I shall notice these in their place. SAFFRON. Saffron is a kind of crocus : a preparation of which is used in medicine, and in the art of MADDER. 83 *• dyeing. In Cambridgeshire, in England, near the borders of Essex, this plant has long been cultivated to a great extent. Saffron Walden derives its name from this product of its vicinity. As soon as the flowers of this plant appear, they are gathered by hand, in the morning, before they open; a part of the flower is afterwards picked out; this being subjected to heat and pressure, forms a cake, which is the drug that bears the name. Saf- fron in small quantities is raised by almost every family in New-England, and is used in its unprepared state in various complaints. It is only for the sake of convenience that it is formed into a cake. Madder is produced in many parts of Eng- land and Holland, and in small quantities in the United States ; and the roots of it, when peel- 84 MADDER. ed, dried, and powdered, supply a beautiful red colour, without which, those whose business it is to dye cloths, would, to a great extent, be MADDER. inconvenienced. So insinuating is the colour- ing property of this plant, that animals who feed upon it have their very bones stained of CORIANDER. 85 a ruddy hue. Madder is also employed in medicine. An acre will produce about two thou- sand pounds of dry, saleable madder. It usually sells for about thirty-two dollars per hundred. CORIANDER. Coriander is frequently sown with teasel and caraway, in England, because these last do 86 CARAWAY SEEDS. not come to perfection until the second year ; so that the coriander may be harvested without injury to them. It is cultivated solely for the sake of the small globular seeds, which are used by distillers, druggists, and confectioners, to impart an aromatic or pungent flavour. It is sometimes mixed with dough to flavour bread. It is raised only in small quantities in the United States, and chiefly in gardens. Caraway Seeds, I need not say, are em- ployed in the same way ; although, as substi- tutes for plums or currants, I always thought them, when a boy, quite an imposition of the cook. The plant grows wild in many places in England, of which country it is a native. It is harvested in July, and threshed out in the field. We raise it only in our garden, or in small patches in the field. 87 HOPS. HOPS. The hop plant is a native of Britain, in parts of which it is raised on a large scale, especially in the county of Kent. It is also raised to a 88 HOPS. considerable extent in parts of the United States. The English seem not to have been aware of its use, until they learned it from the Continent, in the reign of Henry VIII. With- out the dried flower-buds of this plant, which are the hops of commerce, barley-wine, or ale, would be unpalatable, and a quickly-spoiling drink ; so that, unless some substitute for hops were used of old, the "nut-brown-ale," of which the ancient English ballads tell, could scarcely have been entided to the praise which it has received. I suppose I scarcely need say, that this is a winding, climbing plant, arising from a root that continues many years in the ground, although the plant itself perishes at the close of every season. A hop -plantation requires several sum- mers' growth, before it is in good order for HOP-HARVEST. 89' produce. The plants begin to appear about the month of April or May. When they are a few inches above ground, poles, about twenty feet high, are driven in for them to twist themselves upon. The season for the hop -harvest in Eng- land is about the middle of September, but somewhat later with us ; and a busy, busfling time it is in the great hop countries. Men, w^omen, and children, now find plenty to do for some weeks. The method is this: long and large boxes, or baskets, are prepared. The plants are cut off close to the earth, and the poles being pulled out, are laid across those baskets with the binds upon them; the hops are then picked off. The next process is collecting and drying them in a kiln; after which they are housed for some days in the stowage rooms ; and, at H 90 HOP-PICKING. last, forced into bags by the foot and leaden weights. The persons who perform this are called packers. The best hops are put into finer bags, which are called pockets ; the inferiour sort only are called hags. When the picking is accomplish- ed, the binds, or stalks, are cleared from the poles, which are stacked or piled together, for future occasions. The haulm, or straw of the plant, is used by the poorer classes in England for fuel, and is sometimes burnt on the soil for manure. Hops are a very uncertain crop; and there- fore a most anxious speculation to growers, in England, whose chief support is derived from this branch of business. A heavy duty is laid upon them in England ; consequently, the excise officers watch the HOPS. 91 whole process, lest frauds on the revenue should be committed. Of the woody part of the stalk, after it has been soaked in water, a coarse kind of paper may be made. This brings us to notice plants, which are especially cultivated as materials for manu- facture ' I mean Hemp, Flax, and Teasels. 92 HEMP, FLAX, AND TEASELS. HEMP. Hemp is one of the herbaceous plants, and grows to the height of five or six feet. It has a stiffish stalk, narrow finger-formed leaves. KEMP. 93 and inconsiderable flowers. It might easily be passed by, as a weed of worthless form, by un- informed persons. There is, however, scarcely a plant that grows, excepting those essential for food, which ranks with this in importance. It fopms the ropes and cables which belong to the ship ; and its use in the unnumbered forms of thread, twine, ropes, canvas, sacking, and other cloths, is beyond estimation. The principal country for hemp, as an 'article of commerce, is Russia; few other countries grow even enough for their own consumption. It is, indeed, cultivated in some parts of Britain ; particularly in Suffolk and Norfolk, and within a few years has been introduced into the United States. The soil which suits it best, is a moist, loose, sandy loam. It is sown in April or May, and the plants are ready for pulling up in three 94 HEMP. or four months. That which is ready first, is called jimble ; the latter, karle^ or seed hemp. As soon as the plant is pulled, it is tied in bundles, and set up to dry ; at the end of about ten days, the bundles are loosened at the top, and the heads are held upon a hurdle by olle person, whilst another threshes out the seed with a small flail. The hemp is prepared for manufacture by being Spread out on the field to dry, so that the weather may separate the fibres ; or else it is steeped some days in stagnant water. The next thing is to cleanse away the bark from the stalks. This is either done by the hand, or by machinery constructed for the purpose. It is afterwards beaten in mills, and then combed, or dressed, by drawing it through instruments called hackles^ like those used by wool-combers and others. FLAX. 96 The commodity is then easily enough spun into thread, twisted into ropes, or woven into cloth, according to the required purpose. Hemp-seeds are used as food for poultry; and an oil, of some value, is obtained from them. The inner woody stalks (for it is the bark only which is manufactured) are used in countries, where fuel is scarce, by the poorer classes, instead of wood. Flax is another herbaceous plant, but of a much finer fibre and quality than hemp, and capable also of being bleached to snowy white- ness. Need I say that linen is hence obtained 1 It is supposed that this incalculably useful plant originally came from Egypt. Cotton, it is true, now supplies largely its place, and is every year making the demand for flax still less. 96 FLAX. This plant is cultivated with considerable success in many parts of England and the United States. Like hemp, it is sown in the FLAX. spring ; and the plants, when ready, are pulled up by the roots. Both stem and seed are objects of importance. The latter, commonly LINSEED.- FLAX. 97 called linseed^ yields a valuable drying oil for the painter's use, and for other purposes. A liquor is also obtained from this seed, by means of boiling water, which our nurses call linseed tecij and which is accounted useful for coughs, and other diseases proceeding from irritation of the throat and lungs. The flax intended for linen is conveyed in bundles to the place where it is to undergo the process of watering ; there it is thrown into ponds of soft stagnant water, in which it is kept for several days. By this means the bark is detached. The bundles are then laid out on the grass, in regular rows, till the flax separates from the stalks on being rubbed between the hands. After various dressings, similar to those of hemp, it is fit for the manufacturer's use. 7 1 98 TEASELS. Now for Teasels. — These are plants some- what resembling thistles. When the flower has faded, the seeds are contained in a sort of TEASELS. honey-comb structure, shaped like an egg, abounding in small hooks, of a hard and stub- born substance. This teasel head, with its STRAW. 99 scratching hooks, is used by the wool-combers for raising what is called the nap on cloths. Several of the heads are fixed, either on boards or to the outer circle of a large w^heel, by which the purpose is accomplished. Nature supplies us with abundance of materials^ but with very few iools^ like the teasel head, ready for our use ! Fields of teasels, which are to be seen in some places, are not the most convenient thoroughfares for persons in flowing robes, very few of which would be left on the backs of such as might be compelled to hurry through them. I rather think that, farmer as I call myself, I have omitted to take any account of a very 100 STRAW. material article of agricultural produce, which should have been noticed whilst treating of corn. Well then, I suppose I must say that the stalks of grain, and some other plants, are call- ed Straw ; and as this article covers houses, litters horses, manures the land, forms the door- mat to the cottage and the head-covering of the ladies, a word or two must be spared about It; more especially, as I have not forgotten such things as caraway seeds and teasels. Wheat straw, in England, being the strongest and longest, is so much better than any other, that little else is sent to market for common use. In the United States we prefer Rye straw, which is generally longer, brighter, and pos- sesses greater strength. After threshing, it is either stacked by itself, or gathered and tied in what we term bundles^ HAiii:^jvi. > 101 but which by the English are called trusses. Thirty-six trusses, each weighing thirty-six pounds, in that country, form a load of straw. We generally sell it by the ton. This commo- dity is disposed of in the markets in the same manner as hay. I may just add here, that the stalks of po- tatoes, beans, and some other such plants, have, in England, the appropriate name of haulm. I wish this term was common with us. It is evident that, owing to the varied qualities of land, and the equally varying management which the numerous vegetable productions require, a farmer, if ignorant, unskilful, or negligent, will soon find an enemy in every circumstance around him. The wrong time, 102 '' .'':'•,' ' : RSMAKics. or the wrong place, or the wrong method, will make his labour the most costly folly to which, probably, he could addict himself. Not many, however, of those who have been brought up to the business, err to this extent : it is chiefly those who turn from other pursuits to this, who find out, when too late, that they have not knowledge and industry enough, even to be- come a farmer ! 103 LIVE STOCK. OXEN. This part of the produce of the farm, is that by which the occupier realizes, frequently, the principal part of his profits. Americans are fond of good living ; and would consider they dined poorly indeed, if they had no other viands than the choicest vegetable productions. They must enjoy the substantial and savoury blessings of beef and bacon, mutton, lamb, and veal, and all the varieties of poultry and of game, or they (at least the wealthier classes) think themselves objects of comoassion, re- stricted to vegetable diet ! 104 OXEN. Well then, as they are able and willing to pay for these things, we farmers and graziers endeavour to supply their wants ; and are not sorry to have another way of disposing of our vegetable produce, besides the sale of it for money. By feeding animals which are requir- ed for the table, we get rid of our grass, hay, corn, and other things, in a more advantageous manner, than if w^e wxre obliged to sell all for others to consume. The first on the list of meats, undoubtedly, must be beef. The Ox — in a wild state called the Bison — is an animal com.prising the most useful as- semblage of qualities and materials for the varied necessities of man in a civilized con- dition, of any creature with which nature has supplied him. Cattle of this class yield sub- sistence, living or dead ; and this in greater OXEN. 105 abundance, of course, than the other sorts, which are inferiour in size. A Cow may be compared to a sum of money, from which a man may take continually without diminishing his" store ; for the carcass we may call the principal^ and the milk and calves the interest. There is, indeed, this difference in favour of the animal as property, that she will yield in a year, perhaps, twice the value of her purchase and food ; whilst the same sum in money will not generally yield in the public funds much more than a twentieth part of its own amount as interest. In enumerating the uses to which the body of this creature is apphcable, we must reckon up all the different substances of which it is composed: the flesh, the fat, the intestines, the blood, the bones, the skin, the hair, the hoofs, the horns. For the use of the fleshy or 106 OXRN. beef^ I will merely request my young friends to ask themselves the question at their usual dinner hour. That portion of the fat which is not eaten with the flesh, helps to form candles and soap. The blood is employed largely in the purification of sugar, and in some other manufacturing processes. Of the bones are made knife and fork handles. The skin inter- poses, in the form of leather, between the tender foot of man and the harsh or humid soil. The hair serves, in the mixture of mortar, for plasterers, to give it a tenacity, or power of holding together, which is most important for walls so covered; the hoofs and horns^ dis- solved by heat, are moulded into almost any form for various implements of incessant utility — such as handles, combs, and lanthorn panes. The clippings, parings, and refuse of the hide, and other parts, are boiled down to a jelly, r OXEN. 107 which, being strained, purified, and pressed into moulds, constitutes glue^ without which our chairs and tables would fall in pieces. With regard to the purchase, sale, and ma- nagement by the farmer, of these and other animals, of which I shall have to speak, little need be said in this place. They have their varieties, in kind and quality : they have, too, their diseases; and there are different modes of treating them, according to varying customs, circumstances, and climates. These cattle are less dainty, as feeders in a pasture, than the horse and the sheep ; and leave fewer orts^ or refuse food, behind them. In winter, they need hay and turnips. The latter, sometimes, are lodged even in their capacious throats; when an instrument, called a choaking rope — a reme- dy which to us would be worse than the disease — is used to push it down. A worse misfor- 108 SHEEP. tune, at times, is occasioned by the animals feeding too freely on growing clover, which distends them to bursting and death, unless an incision be seasonably performed. SHEEP. The sheep comes second in the rank of ani- mals destined for the service of our race. The Creator, with a power and wisdom infinitely great, varies the qualities of His unnumbered gifts. A sheep differs altogether from an ox ; even more in nature than in size. Mutton, as food, is a change, which the health, perhaps, as well as the appetite, approves, and constitutes a large portion of the meat with which our tables are supplied. But the sheep does more for us m the way of clothing than in food, by resigning to us, yearly, its ample coat. Wool has a property SHEEP -SHEA RING. 109 different entirely from that of other hair; for its constant tendency to curl and wrinkle, causes it, when w^oven, to thicken up, and make a closer texture, as it is manufactured. This surprisingly important quality renders woollen garments the chief clothing of civiliz- ed man ; and, in consequence, the wool is the means of subsistence to thousands of manufac- turers in different countries of the world. Sheep-shearing in the United States is only performed once in the year. In warmer cli- mates, application is twice made in the season to this compliant animal for his suit of clothes. We generally have ours sheared in the latter part of May, or early in June, when the state of the weather renders the operation at least safe to the sheep. The performance is rather a rough and toilsome one to, I believe, all con- cerned. The animals have first to be washed, 110 LAMBS. which is repugnant enough, I doubt not, to the subjects of it, who are generally averse to water. The shearing is any thing but play to the shearer and the shorn. Great strength and dexterity are required in the man ; and nothing less than the proverbial patience of the sheep to render the operation possible. The wool is cut exceedingly close; and there seems, in- deed, great danger, as the instrument snaps along, that flesh, as well as the coat, will go. But they are rarely injured, unless succeeding chilly weather renders the loss of wool an un- comfortable privation. Sheep and lambs are liable to various acci- dents and diseases. The Lambs, coming at a time when the sea- son is frequently severe, are very likely to perish, without great care. Both sheep and lambs, being utterly defenceless animals, are also HOGS. Ill commonly the property most likely to suffer from thieves and dogs, notwithstanding the utmost caution of their owner. The fat of sheep congeals more readily than that of oxen, and is much used for tallow. The skins, when dressed, form that useful substance called wash-leather. The intestines form the article erroneously called catgut^ used for musi- cal and mechanical purposes. The varieties of this animal are also many. HOGS. Here is an animal, differing frpm the other sorts exactly in those particulars which render it capable of occupying a place in the service of man, which, otherwise, must remain vacant and unproductive ; with many of the poor it is invaluable, as being the only animal of the nu- merous farming herds that can subsist on the 112 HOGS. common and scanty means which are open to them. The cow and the sheep must have pas- ture, and often costly care. Not so the poor man's pig : w ith an unfailing appetite, he pos- sesses incessant industry, and an universal taste, or relish, for almost any substances, animal or vegetable, of the select, or refuse kind, which come under the cognizance of his oblique, judicious eye, and his accurate and laborious nose. If sv/ine be a treasure to the cottager, they can scarcely be less so to the farmer, whose yard and stubble-fields are strewed witli scat- tered food, which, but for the hogs, would be entirely lost. But these creatures, naturally roaming, though herding together, do not con- fine themselves to their owner's domain. In the autumn they sometimes absent themselves for weeks in the woods and thickets, in search HORSES. 113 of their natural food, the fruits of the oak, the hazel, and the beech, and those earth-nuts and esculent roots, which their acute sense of smell, and ploughing snout enable them to find. As the flesh of pigs is in high request, when young, for the table, and, when large, forms a staple commodity, cured and dried as bacon, we farmers, besides consuming a great deal ourselves, find an important advantage in this sort of stock ; and he is a bad manager, or very poor indeed, who does not, at the proper sea- son, take care to be supplied with' a sufficient store. HORSES. I have placed first such animals as are used for food, because it is the kind of produce, of the live sort, to which the farmer chiefly looks for a return in money. If, however, animals are 8 . K 114 HORSES. to be ranked according to their apparent station in sagacity, dignity, and beauty, the horse should certainly be the first on the list. But I am only treating of animals as they concern the farm ; and, therefore, do not profess to class or describe them as the naturalist would do. In Great Britain, farmers make great use of the horse in the cultivation of their lands. In this country, we prefer oxen. In light soils, horses answer a good purpose. They are quicker than oxen, and hence the farmer can perform with them more ploughing in a daj^ than with oxen. Yet in this country we think the advantage lies on the side of oxen, as they are more hardy, and when no longer fit for the yoke, may be fatted, and thus yield the farmer a profit, which cannot be said of the superannu- ated horse. Farming horses should be of the larger sort HORSES. 115 Their labour on the road, as well as in the field, is heavy. Loads of hay, corn, manure, &c., generally try their strength much, and require a good team. There is much in the care and management of horses, whether at work or in the stable, which makes the difference in their usefulness and condition. Plenty of food is one thing, but by no means the only point of importance. With regard to their work, judgment and gen- deness in those who guide them will get more service out of this sensitive animal, than all the blows and ill usage which can be resorted to. The carman, wagoner, ploughman, horseman, or whoever he may be that attends them, should, to be master of his business, unders'tand the mechanical means, as to the harness and machine, by which his horse?' strer^gth is appli- ed. He should u:^d?^*starid the langTiagc wliicb 116 HORSES. the animal also understands ; and find out the temper of the different animals, which varies much, and cultivate a good understanding with each of his speechless but sensible companions in toil. It is well known, that where one man can do nothing with a horse, another can, with ease, induce him to perform wonders. The management of these and other animals, is, indeed, quite a talent, and a very valuable one, in a farming man. The carter or wagoner always walks (ride he ought not) on the left, or near side of the horse, or vehicle ; because, as the rule is to let things pass him on the right, or off side, he would otherwise be placed between the two carriages, to his great inconvenience or danger. " Gee ! " is the word, which makes the horse turn to the right ; and " Come hither, woa ! " the mjunction which draws him towards the left; HORSES. 117 accompanied, sometimes, by passing the whip lightly over the neck. When hay, or any other heavy load is placed in a cart, to which a horse is attached, care and judgment are necessary to adjust the weight with respect to a balance, so that it may neither bear nor hang too much ; for, if placed too much in front, the stoutest horse might have his back broken by the pressure. On the con- trary, if it is placed too much behind, it may even force him up from the ground. The food of horses used for labour is grass, hay, oats, chaff, peas, beans, bran, and some- times roots, as carrots, and even parsnips. A change and mixture of food is generally bene- ficial. Wheat, given in any considerable quan- tity, will kill a horse. The careful and successful farmer is never contented to let the management of his horses 118 HORSES. go entirely from under his own eye. He enters the stable, and sees that they are not only fed and watered, but well groomed, well littered, and made comfortable and safe for the night ; and this he does, even though he may have reason to think his men are themselves proud of their team. A few days since I found my thoughtless boy putting one of my best horses, "Blackbird," into the cart, to go to the mill, although he had cast a shoe. But perhaps I ought not to expect him to mind his business, »f r, by sitting here scribbling, neglect my own. 119 THE DAIRY AND POULTRY-YARD. Having concluded all that I think useful to say about farming horses, I will next say a word or two respecting the dairy and poultry. I have living in my family a clever old do- mestic, by the name of Susan, who has long superintended the dairy, and has made, perhaps, as much butter as would freight a ship; and churned as much milk as would float it ! Her powers are not now equal to her will and her skill; a fact, however, of which she is not aware, and which it would offend her grie- vously to mention. So we make the best of it ; and render her what assistance she needs, with- out hinting at all, that she cannot do as she MILK. 121 could fifty years ago, when, a ruddy lass of twenty, she was first hired by my grandmother, in the kitchen. I believe, if I could make Susan understand that I was pretending to print in a book any part of the business of the dairy, or hen- houses, she would think the subject as much beyond my knowledge, as I consider natural philosophy to be above hers. As I am quite certain she will never read my writings, I will venture to proceed with the best information I possess. I suppose I need not say that the material, the management of which, makes the business of the dairy, is milk. This kindly and health- ful fluid, the benign sustenance of the infant from its birth, and, in one form or another, of man in all periods of his hfe, is produced by various animals in quantity suflficient to afford 122 THE CHURN. to their possessors an important measure of their food. That of cows is chiefly used in the United States, as being more palatable, and better adapted for those changes into solid forms, which we require in butter and in cheese. It is the process of transformation into those substances of which I am now to speak. The oily and thicker parts of milk naturally separate, on being left undisturbed for some time. The cream^ as we then call it, forms a yellow coat at the top, which is easily skimmed off" and placed in separate vessels ; but this, without further operations, would never become either butter or cheese. To make butter, a violent mechanical agitation is necessary; to accomplish which, various simple machines, called churns^ have been invented. I believe the oldest sort used both in England and the United States, is the common upright chum, BUTTER. 123 consisting of a high, narrow tub, with a stick, or stirrer, passing through the lid. To the lower end of this stick is fastened a flat round board, not quite so wide as the diameter of the churn : this is the beater ; and being moved rapidly up and down, will in time make good butter. But the best and most expeditious churn is, perhaps, in the form of a barrel, supported on a frame, and whirled round and round by a winch. The time required for the continuance of this motion, before the butter comes, as they say, varies much, according to the nature of the milk, and the management of it, from one hour, to half a day. When sufficiently formed, the butter is taken out, and pressed with great care, to rid it of the remaining fluid, called butter-milk, which would soon turn it sour Such as is intended for present use, or sale, is called fresh butter. It is put up in different 124 BUTTER. ways in different countries. In some it is form- ed into moulds, measures, or lengths. In and near London, it is sold in lumps, by the pound ; in other parts, in portions named from fluid measures, as pints and quarts of butter. Go a little farther, and you must ask for half a yard, or a yard, of butter, according to your need. Salt butter is packed in firkins, and pickled, or salted, to preserve it for a length of time. Many tricks are played by dishonest persons in this business to increase the apparent weight, or bulk, and to impose a bad article for a good one. Sometimes it is packed hollow, with w^ater between ; or bad butter is placed within, and good, just at the ends of the firkin. So much has been done in this way, that an act of parliament, in England, has been made ex- pressly against it. In England, Epping and Dorset butter have CHEESE. 125 each a name in the market ; and vast quantities are sold as such, which could never possibly have been produced at those places. This commodity is a most important article of com- merce ; fifty thousand tons weight being annu- ally consumed in London only. Cheese is another form, in .which milk be- comes manufactured into a substantial articie of food, and, therefore, of trade. The mere process is simple and easy enough. The milk is curdled — that is, the more soUd parts are separated from the whey, by a small quantity of a liquor, called rennet^ prepared from the inner skin of a calf's stomach. The curds, after being cleared of the whey, are collected together, subjected to a strong pressure in moulds, or bags, and then dried for use. In the United States the cheese in greatest favour IS Goshen cheese. The town of Goshen is 126 CHEESE. situated in the northern part of the state of Connecticut. The people of Boston, however, and its vicinity, receive much of the cheese which is made in several parts of Massachu- setts, particularly in New Braintree, in the county of Worcester. Large quantities of ex- cellent cheese are annually brought to the Boston market, chiefly in consequence of a large premium which is annually offered by an association in that city for the best three lots of butter which may be presented. Excellent cheese is produced in various other parts of our country. In England, much is thought of the Cheshire, Gloucestershire, and other kinds of cheese. That which gives the peculiar flavour to Che- shire, and other cheeses, is, I believe, chiefly, the quality of the pastures on which the cows feed. Besides this, I have understood that THE POULTRY-YARD. 127 other materials, such as suet, and colouring matter, are commonly added. That which is accounted the richest of all English cheese, is the Stilton; not made, how- ever, at the place of that name, but in various parts of the midland counties. It is not reckon- ed in its prime till it is two years old, and decayed, blue, and moist. I will only add, before I pass to my next subject, that Parme- san cheese, made in Italy, is composed of a mixture of ewe's or goat's milk with that of the cow, and is much esteemed at the tables of the wealthy. THE POULTRY-YARD. The species of fowls which best reward man for his protection and supplies, are four: tur- keys, geese, common fowls, as they are called, and ducks. 128 TURKEYS. Turkeys are natives of America, and were formerly found in the forests in great abun- dance. They were first taken to England in the middle of the sixteenth century. They are by far the largest, and, as some think, the finest birds used for food in this or any other country. On account of the estimation in which they are held, and the price they consequently bear, they become objects of attention in many poul- try-yards. At Christmas time, such supplies of these dainty birds are required for the city of London, that coaches, it is said, are often loaded with them, to the exclusion of other passengers. Turkeys are the most tender and difficult to rear of all our fowls ; so that the money they fetch is sometimes scarcely a compensation for the trouble and their food. They must be fed for some time after they are hatched, with a sort COMMOJN FOWLS. 129 of pudding, made with milk and eggs. The hen-turkey is by no means so good a provider, defender, and teacher of her young, as the common hen. When, therefore, numbers are to be reared, those duties must be chiefly per- formed by man. When of sufHcient age, grain and barley-meal will do for their food, without which, although they pick about for insects, they would not attain sufficient bulk or fatness for the table. Common fowls^ though disposed of at a com- mon price, are more profitable, in general, than the rarer sorts, because they provide for them- selves to a great extent. I think there are nearly thirty hens in my yard, with I know not how many broods of young chickens. Half as many turkeys would require a yard full of peo- ple to take care of them ; but these, though they need daily feeding, procure by far the 9 130 COMMON FOWLS. greater part of their own subsistence by inces- sant assiduity. The hens are admirable and complete managers of their young, whom they provide for, teach, and defend, in the most com- petent manner imaginable. It is curious to observe the old hens, when they have dis- covered a particle of food, calling their brood around them, by a peculiar cluck, which the young ones well understand, breaking it for them with the bill, if too large, and standing by, perhaps hungry at the time, scarcely taking a grain for themselves. Then again as to fierce- ness and courage, deficient as the hen is in these qualities when herself only is in danger, she becomes a winged dragon for her young, not hesitating to attack, with successful fury, animals twenty times her superior in strength. Hen-houses should have boxes partitioned forjdie nests, and poles for the fowls to roost COMMON FOWLS. 131 on at night, provided with a sort of step-ladders by which the little ones may ascend, before they can use their wings. The hen sits on her eggs for about twenty -one days, with such determined perseverance, that she will almost perish on her nest, rather than remit her duty. Humanity requires that these poor animals should not thus be suffered to injure or destroy themselves by the vain continuance of their en- deavours to warm into life eggs which cannot be hatched. Long after they quit the shell, the young chickens find warmth and shelter beneath the parent's wing ; and will even run to it, some- times, when far too large to be conveniently protected. In about three months, the chickens are fit for the table, or for stores. They are com- monly fattened, under coops, before they are killed ; though, for my own part, I think a barn- 132 EGGS. door fowl, — that is, one which has had the full run of the yard, is quite as palatable, and per- haps more wholesome meat, than one gorged with excessive feeding, without exercise, or the enjoyment of its own notions of quantity and selection. The eggs produced in the winter months, are by no means an unprofitable store at Christmas and the festive season. Five and six cents, in hard winters, have sometimes been given for an egg. The poultry -yard is sometimes exposed to the depredations of quite a merciless foe — the fox. Formerly our farmers were greatly annoyed by these animals, and were obliged to secure their poultry-house, as they did their granaries. If, however, at any time, reynard obtained admit- tance, the defenceless birds were drawn, one after another, from the roost, and slain with as GEESE. 133 little humanity about it, as is felt by a native savage in the moment of his proudest victory. Whilst the fox attacks the birds, rats, skunks, weasels, and other vermin, make equal havoc v^ith the eggs; sucking or carrying them away with astonishing secrecy and despatch. Geese are not always inhabitants of the far- mer's premises ; for, as they feed with a some- what unsavoury spoon on the meadow-grass, horses and other animals do not much relish their leavings; — in fact, they will not, if they can help it, feed after them. It is where there is an open green, or common, with ponds of water, that these birds thrive best, and do their owners most good. They are to a proverb stupid ; yet have sense enough, in general, for their occasions. They know their home ; and, at the close of evening, resort, thither in a row, 134 GEESE. without confusion, or the least diversity of purpose. These animals will live almost entirely on grass; and cost, therefore, very Uttle, where they can do no harm. About Christmas they are in season, and in the greatest request ; and the number disposed of in the markets then is very great. There are two orders of beings to whom the public are especially indebted for their literary treasures — I mean geese and authors. It is lucky w^hen the quill does not come a second time into the possession of a goose, or one of similar capacity. The demand for quills is so great, that vast flocks of geese are kept in the fens of Lincolnshire, in" England, and else- where, to produce the required supply. Un- fortunately for the poor birds, their feathers are DUCKS. 135 in great request too, for bedding ; so that they are plucked alive, five times in the year, for feathers, and their wrings once, for their unri- valled quills. In respect to ducks, as they do not graze, or scratch the soil, farmers need not be afraid of any mischief from them, and they require small attention and supphes. They do not hatch so early as hens ; and, therefore, it is common to put some of their eggs under a sitting hen, who w^ill perform the office as well as if they were her own. She is, how- ever, sadly perplexed and frightened, when her brood, notwithstanding all her care and clucking, take to the water, according to their nature. I have now, I believe, mentioned the prin- cipal animals which the farmer maintains for his use or profit in this country. There are 136 GAME. Others, which, unfortunately, he is compelled to keep, to his own great inconvenience and damage; — these are the species of depreda- tors, of which I have elsewhere spoken as vermin. In England, the farmers experience one inconvenience, from which, in this republican country, we are exempted. There, laws are in force, the design of which is to prevent the common people from killing most wild animals, and birds, fit for eating. These are preserved for the benefit and pleasure of the higher orders. And, indeed, as they form the great inducement to the gentry to reside during a part of the year on their estates, and so spend some of their money in the country, it would certainly be unwise to destroy or extirpate entirely, even if the laws permitted people so to do. The farmer, however, often GAME. 137 suffers severely from the appetites of these creatures, at the same time that he is for- bidden to indulge his o\^r. v^j^h one of their number in return. M 138 HAY-MAKI]V<^ The season of hay making is generally one of the most delightful in the whole year. It usually begins in this country about the 20th of June. If the weather be fine, all is now bustle and activity throughout the country. The farmers in general are in fine health; although they may get but little sleep, they work day after day with great animation. It is usual, during this season, for men who are professed mowers to go round the country to supply the extra demand for hands, during the gathering in of the hay-harvest. They find their own tools, and make the best bargain they can with their employers, working either by time or by the piece, as may be agreed on. HAY-MAKING. 139 From five to six shillings an acre is, I believe, a very common price for mowing. Often the price is still more, if the grass be very stout, or the land uneven. The apparently simple and easy operation of cutting the tender blades and stems of grass with the scythe, is admitted by master and man to be the most severe bodily exertion among all rural employments. The strain upon the back and arms is very great ; and many strong men are wearied out by it, especially at first. There is also an important measure of knack and skill required for whetting, setting, and holding the blade, or the labor is intolerably increased, and the consequence would be a scored and ill-cut field. To be better understood, I will proceed to a small enclosure, in which are six men, set on to mow. 140 MOWING. Pray how do my little city friends suppose these six men proceed with their six scythes mowing down this piece of grass? "How! why they need not consider long about that/' perhaps you reply; "each may begin in any part, and leave off when all is mown." Not SQ, if you please : — they might, if they had no plan of operation, miss portions, or meet casu- ally, or follow carelessly, and cut each other's feet. The way is this : one commences alone at the side of the field, and cuts a few swaths ; that is, by the sweep of his scythe he clears a certain space, and leaves the grass he has cut, in a straight row on his left hand as he goes on. This first man in time and place is called " my lord.'' When he has got a few paces forward, the second man begins also at the side of the piece, and just where the sweep of his own scythe will take off a similar width, without hai-making. 141 leaving any standing between his pathway and that of him who precedes him. This second man also leaves the swath in a line at his left hand, which forms another row. In the same way, when he has got far enough away, the third man begins, and so on, if there were twenty. It is easy to see that in this way no man can interfere with his companion's work. All is regular, and there is no danger of patches being left undone, to require a second visit. When the field is thus cut, the grass is said to be ''lying in the swaths.^^ In this state it is best to lie, if rains should come on, or appear probable. At any rate, it is not usual to disturb it, until the mowers are out of the field ; unless, on the other hand, it should happen to be pro- pitiously fine after much showery weather. Shaking'Out is generally performed in the United States by boys'; but in England by the 142 HAY-MAKING. women and children of the village. For this operation any one can see that the regular method in which the grass has been laid by the mowers, makes the employment regular and easy. The same plan is adopted. One takes the first row, and the second follows on the next, and so on. Now, we would not thank any one to work, even for nothing, who should conclude that the grass may be tossed about with the fork, as a cow might do it with her horns. If we have not sufficient confidence in the day to shake it fairly out, we order the swaths, which, perhaps, have lain already a day, to be just turned ovei\ without much dis- turbing the mass as it grew together. If other- wise, the separation of the swath must be complete. We do not allow lumps of grass to be thrown about, portions of ground to remain uncovered, and so on ; but the entangled knots HAYMAKING. 143 must be fairly parted on the fork, the grass must be evenly spread, and the party are to work in neighbouring rows until the whole be completed. I must not be too long in the hay-field ; and therefore proceed more briefly in my account of the business. The next thing to be done, after the grass has had the best part of the day's sun, is to put it again into forms, called wiiid-roivs. Wooden rakes, or the hay -forks, are used for this purpose. It is then not so much exposed to the dews of the night ; and by lying in a sort of ridge, light and hollow, admits of the wind passing through it, which has nearly a similar effect with the sun, in drying the herb. A little knowledge and experience are re- quired to enable persons to judge when the grass has lain long enough, and had a suflTicient 144 HAY-MAKING. exposure to the sun and air. In very hot burning weather, one day will make it into hay ; but this seldom happens. Generally the wind- rows have to be raked into small heaps, called cocks^ several times, if not against rain, at least as a protection from the dews of the night. Hay-makers never commence this part of their work, until about eight o'clock in the morning, in order to allow previous time for the dews to evaporate. Should the weather continue good, in three or four days the hay is made and ready for carting. Carts, with large ladders before and behind, or wagons, are drawn into the field. Strong men are now employed to pitch and load : that is, to thrust up bundles of the hay on long-handled forks, whilst others in the vehicle receive it at their hands, and dispose it so as to ride well in a large mass. So much, indeed, will they cram in, and lay on, that the STACKING THE HAY. 145 load seems as large as a considerable stack, almost concealing the oxen, whilst it moves slowly along the mead. Stacking the hay, is another operation which requires knowledge and practice. A spot is generally selected for this purpose, which lies high and dry. A foundation is first laid of bushes, faggots, or logs, formed into a square of about the size required for the supposed quantity. When the load comes up, one man stands to receive and deposit the hay on this foundation, whilst another delivers it from the cart. If care be not taken in stacking, the hay will be laid in curly bundles and irregular knots, which will not cut and bind well ; but we sel- dom have faults of that sort to complain of. The great danger is, in stacking the hay too green, or a little damp ; in which case, if the rick be large, as fifty or sixty loads, the chance 10 N STACKING THE HAY. 147 of its taking fire, or consuming without flame inwardly, is very great. I never remember such a burst of rustic mirth as occurred one day — I think it was in the first summer I spent on a farm — when I said the hay was so dry, I was afraid it would take fire! I had heard of hay-stacks burning of themselves, and could not conceive that it could be when they were at all wet. My igno- rance was made more amusing to them, and painful to me, by a good deal of conceited positiveness on my part, which would not for a long time give way to the repeated assurances of others, who had had fifty years' experience. Those husbandmen could not, of course, ex- plain to me, that a chemical action, called fer- mentation^ takes place, when herbage is laid together in a mass, and that this effect is gene- rally more or less, in proportion to the degree 148 STACKING THE HAY. of moisture present in the heap. This fermen- tation creates a sort of inflammable gas, or air, which, if produced in too great quantities, exceeds the due degree of heat, and at length consumes the fermenting body. The process of fermentation, to a certain extent, is required to make good hay in the stack — or, as they say, it must have a heat. As it warms, it set- tles and subsides so much, that the rick ap- pears, in a few days, scarcely half the height which it was when first set up. Sometimes it settles on one side; and occasionally, if ma- naged by unskilful hands, it will topple fairly over, and require complete rebuilding. This is a vexatious occurrence to those concerned, when, perhaps, great exertions are requisite to do the work of this busy season once. Whilst we are about the stack, I would de- scribe to my readers the manner in which THATCHING HAY-STACKS. 149 stacks are thatched in England. It is a great preventive against rot and mould. The heating and settling having taken place, so as to render it safe to house in the stack, persons, whose business it is, are employed for this purpose. The roof being formed, or topped-up to a suf- ficient height, with any inferiour sort of hay, the thatcher and his yelmer go to work. Having prepared pegs and rods of split hazel, for pin- ning and binding down their work, the yelmer gets his straw in a heap, and splashes it pretty liberally with water. He then forms it into small lengthy bundles with his hands, and with such art, that these bundles shall frequently be longer than the straws of which they are com- posed, by being drawn out at each end. The thatcher then mounts his ladder; and, being supplied with these bundles, or yelmSj as fast as he needs them, he bends each double near 150 THATCHING HAY-STACKS. the end, and twists it into a sort of knot ; then, beginning at the eaves, he tucks this part of the bundle so far into the hay, as to detain it there, the ends of the straw hanging out. Hav- ing placed an even row of these, he inserts another row just over them, the ends of each new row lying half over the row which went before. Thus the straws lie one over another, like the hairs on a cat's back, up to the very ridge, which is, afterwards, either bound down close, or made with a stiff edging of straw in an upright position. The whole is firmly se- cured by long, bent, and notched pegs, driven far into the stack. The edges and eaves are afterwards clipped straight with proper shears. When the stack has been well set up, the sides properly pulled, (that is, the outside looser hay drawn out, so as to shew a flat, firm surface,) when the thatching has been THATCHING HAY-STACKS. 151 accomplished by a clever hand, and all litters cleared away, the hay-rick is no mean speci- men of mechanical skill, or practical cleverness. This will stand uninjured, and do the farmer credit and service, after two or three seasons have passed over; whereas, when slovenly careless hands have done every thing wrong, instead of right, the heap looks like a dung-hill, and probably becomes one, from the rain soak- ing through the ill-managed, half-finished roof. 152 HAY-BINDING AND SELLING. Poor farmers, who want money before it is advantageously to be had, seldom let their produce remain long in the rick-yard, or barn. They often send it to market, and lose by it, because they cannot wait a few months for better terms. Farms near Boston or New-York have the readiest opportunities for this sort oL proceed- ing. The markets there ensure a certain sale for agricultural goods, provided the sellers will consent to the selling price, which, when the market is full, is often very low. Hay is a commodity equally familiar to our city and country readers, loaded in carts or wagons for the buyer. HAY-BINDING. 153 The process of getting it to market in this country is quite simple. Hay, which is sold, is usually sheltered in a harn, and when about to be taken to market, it is put on to a cart or wa- gon and weighed. It is sold by the ton. In England, much of the hay which is carried to market is taken from the stacks. Let us see how the farmers there manage. A part of the thatch having been removed from one corner, the cutter pulls out a quantity of the inferiour hay, which formed the stack towards the roof; and, taking it down in a bundle, sprinkles it with water until it is very wet. His object is to make bands, or hay- ropes, to tie up his trusses with. This opera- tion is a curious and dexterous one. A boy holds a sort of winch, made of a string-bow% one end of which he turns in a socket of wood against his chest, by a swift motion of the hand. 164 HAY-BINDING. The other end of the bow has a sort of hook, over which the man doubles a small bundle of the wetted hay. As this is turned round, it is twisted in his hand, and would form a rope only a few inches long, if he did not briskly supply the receding end with fresh parcels of hay from the heap. The boy steps backward, as the band lengthens ; and, when at the dis- tance of about three yards, it is detached, and another is as speedily prepared. Seventy-two of these bands — that being the number for a load of hay — have been made thus, by a mafi and boy, in twenty minutes ; but half an hour is not too much for the work, x4nd now the cutter taltes up his knife, con- sisting of a broad blade, about two feet long, with a handle standing square with the upper end. He thrusts this in where his cut begins, and, sawing it up and down, soon detaches a HAY-BINDING. 155 square corner. He then strikes into the parcel detached, a large two-tined fork, of which the prongs are about a foot long, and, thrusting his hand in at about the same distance down the side, he brings off a compact bundle of the hay, nearly square and flat ; the external rough parts having been previously removed. This bundle is laid across two of the bands, which are then brought round, and twisted into a tight knot, with considerable strength and ex- ertion. Hay-binders can usually guess within a pound the weight of a truss, which should be, if cut before Michaelmas, sixty pounds, if after, fifty-six pounds. But they do not trust to guessing. Steel-yards are always used, hooked on the shaft of a hay-fork, which two men support on their shoulders ; and the weight must be accurately adjusted, or it will not be admitted to the market. 156 DISPOSAL OF THE HAY. Thirty-six trusses constitute what is called a load of hay, in the south and eastern parts of England. In some parts a ton, or twenty hundred weight, is the quantity. The manner in which hay is disposed of by the farmer, who sends it to London, is usually this : there are persons at the markets, called salesmen^ who receive it as it comes in, and, on the proper market days, treat with the various customers who resort thither to buy. They are then responsible to the farmer, for whom they thus transact on commission, for the mo- ney for which it is sold, reserving to themselves five shillings a load for their agency. In this way, the vast quantities of hay seen in Smith- field, Whitechapel, the Haymarket, and other parts of London, are rendered to the consum- ers of the metropoUs ; and so great is the supply, sometimes, that country-dealers can go SECOND CROPS OF HAY. 157 to town, buy, and carry it home, at a cheaper rate than that at which they could obtain it where it was grown. Potatoes, fruit, and cat- tle, are managed in a similar way. When grass has been cut early, and the sea- son holds fine, a second crop of hay, usually called rowen, may be obtained by the end of August. But as this after-crop exhausts the sward and soil very much, landlords seldom allow it to be done ; and the chance of fine weather is not such as to tempt the farmer much to this line of conduct. This second hay, being softer to the mouth than the other, is preferred for cows, who often thrive very well upon it. 158 THE GRAIN HARVEST. 1 WILL now give some account of the grain harvest, premising, however, that this is usually a most joyful season in all the land, especially when the harvest proves rich, and the sun is fair. In nothing are we more dependent upon a kind Providence than in respect to grain. It is our chief support. When, therefore, God has brought the harvest to maturity — when the fields wave with their rich burdens, and the sun beams forth from behind the passing cloud, indicating propitious weather for the harvest — then, indeed, it is a time to be glad. Wheat having a hard and stiffish stem, or straw, is usually reaped^ or cut with an instru- THE GRAIN HARVEST. 159 ment called a sickle. Some cradle it for the sake of the straw, which is cut longer, by the scythe working nearer the ground, but this is generally a wasteful way. The little finger of my left hand bears wit- ness to the rash confidence of one, who, like many others, thought that wheat was easy enough to cut, and who did not know that 160 REAPIJNG. fingers' ends were still more easily shorn by unpractised operators. I nearly lost an useful digit at the second joint, by an ill-aimed slash- ing stroke, one memorable harvest-day; for, taking a bundle of wheat in my grasp, I eagerly drew the l)lade too near under my finger, and paid a penalty in pain, and the subsequent inability to use it. A sickle is made nearly in the form of a half-oval, and has a toothed edge, like a fine saw. To perform properly with this, the reap- er must stoop low, take a large bundle in his left hand, and cut accurately and vigorously with his right. A party of reapers thus em- ployed, proceed in the same regular way as mowers. They leave the wheat in small bun- dles at first on the ground, and afterwards tie it up m sheaves. The bands they make for this purpose are formed by twisting two small REAPING. 161 parcels of the straw together at the ends, taking care that the ears are not damaged by the knot. These sheaves are generally set up on the butts, for the sake of drying with more ease. The harvest, I will suppose, is general now ; and we have one hundred acres down. We have been a good deal interrupted by showery weather; but I do not think the wheat is materially damaged. Our carting, however, has been delayed ; for wheat housed or stack- ed wet, spoils fast. Pitching of wheat, that is, heaving up the sheaves on a long fork into the wagon, is very hard work. He who receives and adjusts it, is not fond of an incautious hand to pitch ; for If the fork be thrust forward, instead of being withdrawn, it is apt to wound the face of him 11 O 162 HARVEST SEASON. who takes it. I knew one who lost an eye through such a circumstance. And now the beer, or some other drink, flows copiously indeed. The heat is great, and the evaporation from the human frame, whilst employed at the same time in severe labour, isi such as to require a great supply of drink. It was formerly the practice to drink ardent spirits, and I am sorry to say that the custom is still continued by many. Not a few farmers, however, have discarded them entire- ly, and substituted beer, ale, coffee, or milk and water; and where the experiment has been properly made, the work is better done, and the labourers are far more healthful and far more happy. The harvest weeks are indeed a period of toil and solicitude, which none can understand HARVEST SEASON. 163 SO well as those whose essential interests are at stake therein. To those especially, who are in difficulties for money, and have, perhaps, borrowed for this occasion — the danger of ruin from weather-spoiled, or otherwise deficient crops, is an oppressing anxiety. As with hay, so with other produce, the crop, which by weather is reduced to half its value, costs, perhaps, twice as much in extra labour to get it up. Let those, therefore, who regard as a calamity a shower of rain on the day of a pro- posed excursion, think how slight their trouble really is, compared with that of the industrious struggling agriculturist, whose hopes and la- bours for a year are, perhaps, exchanged for disappointment and despair by the dripping season ! There is not so much to explain, with regard to the grain harvest, as there is in hay-making, 164 GRAIN HARVEST. for this reason ; grain is merely cut, carted, and housed ; whilst grass, as we have seen, under- goes a sort of manufacturing process, distinct from the operation of gathering it in as a crop. It is well, indeed, that wheat, for instance, which is sometimes ten months upon the ground, does not require more than mere harvest labours, otherwise it would be too costly a commodity for common use. 166 THRESHING AND DRESSING GRAIN. I PASS on now to the business which forms, generally, part of the winter employment of the prosperous farmer, but which immediately follows harvest, with the needy and embarrass- ed class. The process of separating the grain from the ear has been performed in various ways, in different times and countries. The eastern nations placed their corn in the circular track-way of their cattle, who were driven over it, round and round a post. This practice is adverted to in St. Paul's quotation from the Jewish law: "Thou shalt not muzzle the mouth of the ox which treadeth out the corn." Both in the United States and in Europe, 166 THRESHING. threshing is the common mode : a tedious one, it seems, but, nevertheless, as good, perhaps, all things considered, as any other method that has been adopted. The flail is a smooth, hard, and heavy club of vv^ood, largest at its further end, and about a yard long, fastened by a leathern thong to a handle somewhat longer. The joint is so con- trived, by means of a part that turns round, that the flail may have a sort of circular motion? as it is wielded by the thresher. Before he begins, he sweeps the barn-floor, and carefully mends and stops any holes that he may see. He then takes sheaves from the bays^ or else- where, and untying them, spreads them regu- larly on each side with the ears towards the middle of the floor. When thus adjusted, he begins — or they — for sometimes three or four are employed at once — to beat the ears with THREfSHING. 167 the flail, at every stroke of which the grain flies out of the husk. It is quite impossible to put the young read- er in possession of this, or other manual arts, in general, by mere words ; nor will the con- tinued sight of the operation give the notion which is to be acquired by practice. The use of the flail, apparently so easy to the mere observer, seems almost impossible to those 168 THRESHING. who first take it in hand. Unless it descend horizontally, so as to touch the floor with its whole length, the shock to the hand and arm is intolerable, whilst the grain probably remains untouched. The danger, however, to by-stand- ers, is still greater, as the peasant knows, who hands the instrument to an unpractised opera- tor. He instantly skips out of the way, well knowing that the intended blow is far more likely to reach his head than the grain below. One or two thumps generally suffice to cure the young beginner of any notions of his capa- bility for that employment. He walks off*, blowing his fingers, and not much comforted b^/ the broad grin of the rustics in the barn. W^hen a sufficient quantity is threshed out, and the straw raked off*, the process of dress- ing commences ; that is, separating the grain from the chaff*, small seeds, and refuse which WINNOWING. 169 is then amongst it. For this purpose, various methods have been adopted. Generally, those particles being Mghter in proportion to their bulk than the grain, winnowing, or winding, will accomplish the purpose. This may be per- formed either by fanning with a large expand- ed machine of basket-work, or by setting" the barn-doors open in an airy day, and then throwing the grain from a wooden shovel, a few yards, against the windy current. I have much admired the dexterity and success with which this has been done. The grain falls in one heap, and the chaff and rubbish in another, with astonishing precision. But machinery has of late years superseded much of this skill and labour. These engines, by the strength of horses and mill-work, which we cannot here explain, will dispose of the winter's employment for several men, in a few P 170 THRESHING MACHINES. weeks, or, perhaps, days. Yet it is doubtful, seeing they are expensive, and subject to mis- management and injury, whether the farmer gains much by them, beyond the mere conve- nience of a speedy preparation of his corn for sale. Dressmg machines, for cleansing the grain from chaff, &c. seem liable to fewer objections, MEASURING GRAIN. 171 and are very generally adopted now. The wind in these is occasioned by the rapid mo- lion of wings, or flies, fixed on a revolving rod. A jolting motion is at the same time given to a v/ire sieve, down which the grain slides, and, in passing, the smaller seeds and particles are bolted through. The next thing is to measure the grain into sacks for the market, or the miller; — much nicety, as well as honesty, is required here. The miller measures when he receives; and if there be half a pint deficiency he complains, and must have it rectified. Wooden bushels, (rf exact dimensions, are used. The top is struck off level, with a straight edge. Four bushels make a sack, eight bushels a (quarter, and forty bushels one load of wheat. The mode of threshing, dressing, and mea- suring other grain, seeds, and pulse, does not SAMPLES. 173 differ enough to make a separate explanation necessary. In all cases it is required to have the commodity as clean and free from mixture as possible. The farmer disposes of his grain generally, by attending the neighbouring weekly mar- kets, to which millers and corn-dealers resort ; or he sends it to Boston or New-York factors, or sells to regular customers by private con- tract. Samples are usually taken to market and elsewhere, in canvas bags ; and on these, bargains are made to a large amount. I see the miller in the engraving stands rather back, as if in doubt. Those, however, who do not understand grain, would derive litde knowledge of the actual quality and value from the speci- mens or the lump. Persons are not unfre- quently to be seen, and laughed at, who ex- amine the samples, and talk about them, with 174 DEALERS. evidently no experience or real information on the subject. This is often observed in citi- zens, or mechanics, who have been know^n, w^ith most consequential airs, to order a quar- ter ! instead of a quartern of corn for a horse at an inn, pouring the grain from hand to hand at the same time, with the vain attempt to show how much they are up to "those fellows, the ostlers." The public would get grain much cheaper than they do, were it not for the interference and rapacity of grain-factors and dealers, who step between the farmer and the miller, and merely buy to sell again. Of course, all that they gain, the public lose ; but this might be borne, if they would not employ their money as they commonly do, to buy up or monopolize the supply, so as to put almost their own price upon it. CORN MILL. 176 THE GRAIN MILL. Millers are frequently dealers in this way, and make large sums, not only for their trouble of grinding and cleansing the meal, but by watching the markets, and buying and selling, as opportunities for making large profits may arise. Perhaps my young readers will understand better a process of grinding grain adopted in England, by an examination of the engraving here given. We see here the part of the mill in which the grain is broken. It runs in from the wooden funnel, between the two stones ; the upper one circulates with amazing rapidity. The stones being furrowed, or ground, bruise the corn as it flies towards the circumference. There it issues, and is afterw^ards cleansed from the chaff in other parts of the mill. 177 THE POTATOE CROPS. The potatoe is one of the most important vegetables raised in the United States. It is a native of South- America, whence it was carri- ed to Spain from the neighbourhood of Quito. To England, however, this root found its way by a different route, being brought from Vir- ginia by the colonists sent out by Sir Walter Raleigh, in 1586. It is now extensively culti- vated in all the northern parts of the United States, and forms one of our principal articles of vegetable food. Potatoes are raised with great ease, several hundred bushels being often produced on a single acre. Yet he that would have a large 12 178 . POTATOES. crop must select a rich soil. The best pota- toes generally grow on a dry and loamy soil, provided the climate is a moist one; but if the climate be dry, the soil may be strong and heavy. Potatoe grounds are sometimes ploughed up, when the roots are ready, by which means they are uncovered in a very speedy way for the pickers. But this method cuts a great many, and perhaps leaves many more in the soil. A better method is to turn them out with a flat three-pronged fork, made on purpose; pickers following, with bags, or baskets, close behind. These roots we generally sort in the field — the largest and best being reserved for the table or for market — the smaller ones to feed cattle and sheep. In England, farmers usu- ually divide their potatoes into three sorts, POTATOES. *I79 namely, ware^ middlings^ and chats. In the first class are put the very best, as to size, shape, and quality. They must not be the very largest, which do not sell v^ell ; not those of double form, or covered with protuberances, which are also rejected ; and not any that are cut, or green, or hollow. The middlmgs are those of which the size is less than that esteemed the best. The chats dire the small- est, the damaged, the discoloured ; in fact, the refuse, designed for cows and hogs. These sell at about a third of the price of the best. The growler is obhged to give many pounds weight extra, into every hundred weight, to compen sate the buyer for the w^eight of soil and sack in the scales. The profit of green-grocers in London and the suburbs, who sell potatoes retail by the pound to families, is enormous. They purchase them at the markets for three 180 POTATOES. or four pounds per ton, and sell them again at a penny or five farthings a pound ; by which means their three or four pounds will bring them in, not less than nine or ten guineas ! This could not be the case, if the London public would take the trouble of sending to the market for the commodity. As it is, the price obtained by the grower seldom affords him a fair profit, unless his land suit them uncom- monly well, and the facilities be great of pro- curing requisite manure. 181 TURNIPS. Turnips, also, are raised in large quantities by some of the American farmers. They are less nutritious than the potatoe; but are useful for cattle and sheep durmg the winter season, while they are deprived of green vegetable food. Some farmers even fatten their cattle upon them. If cows are allowed to eat them, hot water must be added to their milk, or it will imbibe an unpleasant taste. Turnips are very easily raised. The best method of obtaining a large crop is to turn over a piece of newly mowed sward land, rich and mellow ; which having done, roll it with a heavy roller ; then harrow it lightly ; next, sow the seed, one thimble full, and only one, to a 182 TURNIPS. square rod ; bush it, roll it, and nothing fur- ther is needfxil, except to scatter ashes plen- tifully upon the young plants, when they have made their appearance. This should be done just before a shower of rain. 183 GRASS. When land which has been under tillage is to be converted into pasture, some skill is required to select such species of grasses in due proportions, as may be best suited to the soil, and consequently afford the greatest quan- tity of produce during the year. The farmer knows from observation, that nature has pro- vided, in all permanent pastures, a mixture of various grasses, the produce of which differs at different seasons ; and his object should be to imitate nature in this department of his busi- ness. Many of my city friends, when on a visit in the country, have thought the blades of grass, constituting the sward under their feet, to be so nearly alike, as not to require the par- 184 GRASS. ticular attention of the agriculturist. Now, I believe I may say, there are two hundred distinct kinds of grasses which will grow in this country, and which, separately, are of little value, yet collectively, and by judiciously com- bining the species appropriate to each soil, they form our richest pastures, and compose the sward, which is in the aggregate termed grass. The farmer's experience enables him to select the kinds of grass proper to form a close pas- ture for sheep, or deeper grazing for cattle or a meadow. I have endeavoured to give a de- scription, with accompanying cuts, of a few only of the many species of plants, which are grown as herbage for cattle, more clearly to shew you how very distinct their form and appearance are upon a close examination. 1. The FoX'tail grass. This is a kind of grass which has a short bushy head, much like GRASS. 185 a fox's tail. It is well suited to sheep and horses — but cows and hogs are not fond of it. It makes excellent hay. FOX-TAIL GRASS. SPIKED FESCUE GRASS. 2. The Spiked fescue grass. This grass is among the best for hay or pasture. It grows very luxuriant and productive, but is rather Q m GRASS. coarse. In one important particular it differs from most other grasses — it improves in pro- portion to its age. FIORIN GRASS. CAT'S-TAIL GRASS. 3. The Fiorin grass. This grass has been said to be a native of Ireland ; but it has like- wise been found growing spontaneously in this GRASS. 187 country. It is much cultivated in England, and has been known to yield nine tons to the acre, in a season. Given to.cov^s, it increases the quantity and improves the quality of milk. 4. CafS'tail or Timothy grass. This grass is a native of the United States. It is some- times called Cat's-tail from the resemblance of its head to the tail of a cat. It often goes by the name of Herd^s grass, and is, perhaps, bet- ter knpw^n in New-England by this than any other name. It is said that it was first found in a swamp in Piscataqua, (Portsmouth, New- Hampshire,) by one Herd, who propagated it. It is the best of all our grasses. It often yields two or three tons of good hay to the acre, and thirty or forty bushels of seed. This grass was unknown in England until 1780, when it was taken thither by one Hudson. 188 HERBAGE PLANTS. Clover. The cultivation of clover, and other herbage plants, is indispensable in the manage- ment of an arable or grain farm. Upon land which is not so rich as to allow^ of being con- stantly under tillage, but requires what we may term rest^ by being for a short interval in pas- turage. Clover, Lucern, Saintfoin, Slc. are plants which the farmer finds greatly to his interest to cultivate. The clover family is numerous. I give you a representation of two sorts, Meadow Clover, and White Clover. Meadow clover resembles red clover, which I have not described in this little work, but it is of a paler CLOVER. 189 hue, not so high in its growth, with whitish flowers; it is a perennial plant, that is, con- tinues to grow for a number of years. The red clover, which I allude to, only lasts two years. MEADOW CLOVER. WHITE CLOVER. White clover is also a perennial, and is often found in abundance in native pastures. 190 LUOERN. Lucern is a perennial plant, with clover- like shoots, the flowers blue or violet: it is not much recommended by farmers, who LUCERN. have tried it, for general culture, as it requires labour to keep it from grass and weeds. SAINTFOIN. 191 Saintfoin is a perennial plant, with showy red flowers. It is a native of England, on dry, chalky soils. Its peculiar value is, that it will SAINTFOIN. glow oil podr soils unfit for tillage. Its herbage is good for pasturage or hay, and it is gene- rally considered a most valuable plant. 192 DEALING AND MONEY MATTERS. And now, as we farmers, hearty and hungry as we are, by reason of our rural labours, do not grow all this com and cattle for our own eating, it remains to shew in what way we gain or lose by the disposal of the pro- duce, or by our various receipts and pay- ments. Farming, considered as a trade in commodi- ties, has been a business wherein a man, of moderate means and capacity, might, with industry, get wealth. At present, those are reckoned prosperous farmers who manage to , retain their property undiminished, and keep out of debt. A FARMER'S EXPENSES. 193 In this country, the farmers, as a class, are m a far happier condition than those in Eng- land. Here a majority of them are the owners of the soil which they cultivate — but in that country the land belongs chiefly to the great and powerful, called the nobility. Besides, we have in the United States but few taxes, and those, in comparison with the Enghsh farmer's taxes, are light and trivial. I will give some account of these matters in England, from which I am sure our little readers will readily perceive how much better the condition of the American farmer is than that of the English farmer. Observe, then, with whom the lat ter has to settle before he can count upon any profit from his toil. These are chiefly the King, the landlord, the clergyman, the overseer, the labourer, and those of whom l.S R 194 KENT, he purchases his stock, materials, and imple- ments. The King's taxes are not what they used to be : for, at one time, even agricultural horses, and some kinds of carts, paid duty. The chief thing remaining now, is the land-t^x. The landlord, as proprietor of the soil, has an undoubted right to put any price he may think proper upon it. It is for the farmer to consider, before the bargain is made, what it will suit him to give, taking other expenses into the account. I may say, in a rough way, that land, in England, varies from one pound, to two or three pounds an acre, according to circum- stances of soil, situation, and other particulars. The rent and other matters being agreed on, a written engagement for a term of years, ^hicn binds the landlord to let, and the tenant LEASES. 195 to hold, on certain conditions, is draAvn up by a lawyer. This, I suppose, I need not say, is called a lease. The conditions are called cove- nants^ in which the landlord is naturally dispos- ed to take sufficient care of himself. Without going too much into dry matters, I will just say, that the principal covenant on the landlord's part is, to let the tenant have unmolested pos- session of the farm during the term granted ; and this is an engagement from which he can in no way free himself; even though another should offer him ten times the rent. The conditions on the part of the tenant are many, and sometimes grievous; yet such as men will consent to, for the sake of obtaining what they are apt to think, at first, will be a good busi- ness. He agrees to give so much money per lonum, in quarterly payments; — he undertakes 196 r.RASEs. to farm the land in a certain way ; — to keep the house and buildings in repair ; — to manure to a certain extent ; — to pay a heavy penalty, if he shall break up a pasture without leave. He engages, generally, not to cut the grass a second time in the season. Sometimes he is restricted from growing potatoes and from selling hay. He is forbidden to cut down the smallest timber tree. Sometimes the lease gives extra powers to the landlord, of raising rent, and enforcing penalties. And suppose the farmer cannot pay his rent on the rent-day? The landlord then may distrain for it ; that is, he can put a bailiff, a kind of constable, on the premises, and, after five days, he can seize any part of the proper- ty, and sell it, to pay himself. The worst of il s, that he can also seize and sell the property TITHES. 197 of any other person which happens to be on the spot at the time. I have heard an amusing story of a certain squire, who sent a bailiff to distrain for rent : the bailiff, looking over the fields, espied a remarkably fine parcel of black cattle, which he seized upon and sold without in(iuiry. It happened, how^ever, that these were the landlord's oivii beasts^ which had accidentally strayed in ! The clergyman comes next ; his claims are called tithes, or tenths. The case is this : the Church of England being by law established, it became necessary to appoint and support its niinisters. Custom and law have, for many a2;es, given a tenth part of the produce of the laad to the clergy, for the performance of their duties. This portion they may take (*r- her in kind, that is, the tenth sheaf of corn, 198 POOR RATES. the tenth calf and lamb, the tenth measure of milk, the tenth egg; or they may agree to an equivalent, or composition, which perhaps amounts to five or six shillings an acre. This method is usual, and saves some trouble to the parties concerned, and perhaps, too, some strife. The overseers are parish officers, whose business it is to collect and lay out the rates, or monies levied for the support of the poor. These vary in amount, according to circum- stances. Sometimes they are equal to a fourth, sometimes to three-fourths of the whole rent ; so that a farmer who pays the landlord four hundred pounds a year, may have to find also one hundred and fifty pounds for the clergy- man, and one, two, or three hundred for the poor — those only (it should be) who are unable, by WAGES. 199 their labour, to support themselves on their wages. This brings us to another branch of his expenditure. The wages of men cannot long be fixed; they depend on the season of the year — the demand for labour — the price of grain, and the kind of employment. I think I may say that a person who farms four hundred acres, will have tgn or a dozen men to pay on the Satur- day night, at the rate of perhaps from ten to fourteen shillings a-piece. The man in the print does not look as if he were receiving less than he had fairly earned. With regard to the purchase of stock and materials ; the charge for machines and imple- ments ; carpenters^ builders', wheeleil^', and blacksmiths' bills ; the cost, or worth of his own produce for the cattle and horses, which x^lSCELLANEOUS EXPENSES. 201 he is obliged to keep ; we cannot state particu- lar sums. AH I can say is, that these pay- ments, added to rent, rates, and taxes, are such as to make farming, now that only a comparatively low price can be obtained for the produce, at best a hazardous, and, in many cases, a ruinous concern. But let the times be what they may, the farmer can never succeed who has not judg- ment, industry, experience, and perseverance. His payments must be heavy ; and they will exceed his receipts, if he makes a bad bargain with his landlord, niismanages and neglects his land, and buys and sells imprudently. Before he can deal to advantage, he ought to know well, and judge accurately of the real quality and value of the commodity, according to the mai'kets. He ought to understand something 202 MISFORTUNES. of many trades connected with his own — a^ those of the miller, the salesman, the butcher, the grazier, the cattle and horse dealer — the land-agent, the builder, and even the lawyer, as far as his kind of property is concerned. He who is thus qualified, has talents and knowledge, which would make a man respec- table, and most likely successful, in any other sphere or profession. But the farmer is subject to numerous mis- fortunes, which none can prevent or foresee : bad seasons ; blight and mildew ; diseases in cattle ; sudden falls in the value of produce ; and various other casualties. A few of these circumstances occurring together, may reduce his profits to nothing, and compel him to waste his capital ; and when that is gone, to trade with other men's mone} ; so that, at last, he may sink to ruin. A FARMER'S COMFORTS. 203 But, although thus exposed to misfortune, the farmer has great reason to trust a kind Providence, which has promised that seed time and harvest shall not fail. In nearly every country on the globe there are times when farmers suffer in common with other classes of society ; but after all, in a course of years, no other class perhaps is more smiled upon — none are more independent — none more happy. In England, it is true, the farmers have a hard time of it, as the saying is, but they may escape from some of their burdens by and by. Here, in the United States, we have much to encourage us — generally good crops — a fair market — light taxes — and, more than all, liberty to work or play as we please. Leaving others to follow what profession 204 A FARMER'S COMFORTS. they please, we shall still cling to the honourable society of the farmers, and still say, Speed the Plough. THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW AN INITIAL FINE OF 25 CENTS WILL BE ASSESSED FOR FAILURE TO RETURN THIS BOOK ON THE DATE DUE. THE PENALTY WILL INCREASE TO SO CENTS ON THE FOURTH DAY AND TO $1.00 ON THE SEVENTH DAY OVERDUE. REC'U i-U NiAY 18 t9» 11^ AY 10 1933 MAY 12 19c \l^P^^ 10 ^^'^^ *% MAY 18 1947 JUL 30 ia47gi(a^ ^^ay59Dp RECEIVE'' NOV ' NO- YB 768^5 j 1 :>■ -" a6930 i GSZI 1 T^ i i UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY