THE OLD ORCHARD
March was unusually raw even for that uncooked month. The sun had to
cross the line before it could make much impression on the deep frost.
After the 15th, however, we began to find evidences that things were
stirring below ground. The red and yellow willows took on brighter
colors, the bark of the dogwood assumed a higher tone, and the catkins
and lilac buds began to swell with the pride of new sap.
If our old orchard was to be pruned while dormant, it must be done at
once. Thompson and I spent five days of hard work among the trees,
cutting out all dead limbs, crossing branches, and suckers. We called
the orchard old, but it was so only by comparison, for it was not out of
its teens; and I did not wish to deal harshly with it. A good many
unusual things were being done for it in a short time, and it was not
wise to carry any one of them too far. It had been fertilized and
ploughed in the fall, and now it was to be pruned and sprayed,--all
innovations. The trees were well grown and thrifty. They had given a
fair crop of fruit last year, and they were well worth considerable
attention. They could not hereafter be cultivated, for they were all in
the soiling lot for the cows, but they could be pruned and sprayed. The
lack of cultivation would be compensated by the fertilization incident
to a feeding lot. The trees would give shade and comfort to the cows,
while the cows fed and nourished the trees,--a fair exchange.
The crop of the year before, though half the apples were stung, had
brought nearly $300. With better care, and consequently better fruit, we
could count on still better results, for the varieties were excellent
(Baldwins, Jonathans, and Rome Beauties); so we trimmed carefully and
burned the rubbish. This precaution, especially in the case of dead
limbs, is important, for most dead wood in young trees is due to
disease, often infectious, and should be burned at once.
I bought a spraying-pump (for $13), which was fitted to a sound oil
barrel, and we were ready to make the first attack on fungus disease
with the Bordeaux mixture. This was done by Johnson and Anderson late in
the month. Another vigorous spraying with the same mixture when the buds
were swelling, another when the flower petals were falling, and still
another when the fruit was as large as peas (the last two sprayings had
Paris green added to the Bordeaux mixture), and the fight against apple
enemies was ended for that year.
Thompson had gone for the cows. He left March 9, and returned with the
beauties on Friday the 17th. They were all my fancy had painted
them,--large, gentle-eyed, with black and white hair over soft
butter-yellow skin, and all the points that distinguish these marvellous
milk-machines. They were bestowed as needs must until the cow barn was
completed. One of them had dropped a bull calf two days before leaving
the home farm. The calf had been left, and the mother was in an
uncomfortable condition, with a greatly distended udder and milk
streaming from her four teats, though Thompson had relieved her thrice
while _en route_.
I was greatly pleased with the cows, but must not spend time on them
now, for things are happening in my factory faster than I can tell of
them. Johnson had built some primitive hotbeds for early vegetables out
of old lumber and oiled muslin. He had filled them with refuse from the
horse stable and had sown his seeds.