But let any farmer turn his whole force into a bog or marsh directly

after finishing his Summer harvest (when it is apt to be driest and

warmest), and, having freed it of water to the best of his ability, dig

and draw out one hundred cords of its black, oozy substance, and he will

know better than to unite in that hasty judgment. If the bog be near his

farm-yard, let the Muck be shoveled at once into a cart and drawn

thither; but, if not, let it be simply brought out in wheel-barrows and

deposited, not more than two feet deep, on the most convenient bank that

is well drained and perfectly dry. Here let it dry and drain till after

Fall harvest, and then begin to draw it gradually into the yards, and

especially where it may be worked over by swine and scratched over for

seeds and insects by fowls. Assuming that the farm-yard is lowest in the

centre and allows no liquid to escape save by evaporation, the Muck may

well be dumped on the drier sides; thence, after being worked over and

trampled through and through, to be shoveled into the centre and

replaced by fresh arrivals. A hundred cords may thus be so mixed and

ripened as to be fit to draw out next May and used as a fertilizer for

Grain or Roots, though, if not so treated, it should lie exposed to sun

and wind a full year; being applied in the Fall to crops of Winter grain

or spread upon the fields to be planted or sowed next Spring. All the

manure made during the Winter should be spread over that which lies in

the yard at least monthly; and then new Muck drawn in, to be rooted or

scratched over, trampled into the underlying strata, and overspread in

its turn. Thus treated, I am confident that each hundred cords of Muck

will be equal in value to an equal quantity of manure, though it may not

give up its fertilizing properties so freely to the first crop that

follows its application. I have land that did not yield (in pasture) the

equivalent of half a tun of hay pet annum when I bought it, that now

yields at least three tuns of good hay per annum; and its renovation is

mainly due to a free application of Swamp Muck.

To those who have a good stock of animals, with Muck convenient to their

yards, I would not recommend any other treatment than the foregoing; but

there are many who keep few animals, or whose muck-beds lie at the back

of their farms, two or three hundred rods from their barns; while they

wish to fertilize the fields in this quarter, which have been slighted

in former applications, because of the distance over which manure had to

be hauled. If these possess or can buy good hard-wood, house-made Ashes

at twenty-five cents or less per bushel, I would say, Mix these well, at

the rate of two or three bushels to the card, with your Muck as you dig

it; work it over the next Spring, and apply it the ensuing Fall, so as

to give it a full year to ripen and sweeten, and it will be all right.

But, if you have not and cannot get the Ashes, and _can_ procure dirty,

refuse Salt from some meat-packer or wholesale grocer, apply this as you

would have applied the Ashes, but in rather larger quantity; and, if

you can get neither Ashes nor Salt, use quick Lime, as fresh and hot

from the kiln as you can apply it. The best Lime is that from burned

Oyster-Shells; I consider this, if nowise slaked, nearly equal to refuse

Salt; but Oyster-Shell Lime is too dear at most inland points; and here

the refuse of the kilns--that which is not good enough for

mason-work--must be used. Usually, the lime-burner has a load or more of

this at the clearing out of every kiln, which he will sell quite cheap

if it be taken out of his way at once; and this should be looked for and

secured. Being inferior in quality (often because imperfectly burned),

it should be applied in larger quantity--not less than four bushels to

each cord of Muck.

* * * * *

I will not here describe the process of mixing Salt with Lime commended

by Prof. Mapes, because it is not easy to bring these two ingredients

together so as to mix them with the Muck as it is dug: and, though I

have used them after Prof. Mapes's recipe, and purpose to do so

hereafter, I do not feel certain that any positive advantage results

from their blended application as a Chloride of Lime. If I should gain

further light on this point before completing this series, I shall not

fail to impart it.

XXII.

INSECTS--BIRDS.

If I were to estimate the average absolute loss of the farmers of this

country from Insects at $100,000,000 per annum, I should doubtless be

far below the mark. The loss of fruit alone by the devastations of

insects, within a radius of fifty miles from this City, must amount in

value to Millions. In my neighborhood, the Peach once flourished, but

flourishes no more, and Cherries have been all but annihilated. Apples

were till lately our most profitable and perhaps our most important

product; but the worms take half our average crop and sadly damage what

they do not utterly destroy. Plums we have ceased to grow or expect; our

Pears are generally stung and often blighted; even the Currant has at

last its fruit-destroying worm. We must fight our paltry adversaries

more efficiently, or allow them to drive us wholly from the field.

Now, I have no doubt that our best allies in this inglorious warfare are

the Birds. They would save us, if we did not destroy them. The British

plowman, turning his sod with a myriad of crows, blackbirds, etc.,

chasing his steps and all but getting under his feet in their eager

quest of grubs, bugs, etc., is a spectacle to be devoutly thankful for.

Whenever clouds of birds shall habitually darken our fields in May and

(less notably) throughout the Summer months, we may reasonably hope to

grow fair crops of our favorite Fruits from year to year, and realize

that we owe them to the constant, and zealous, though not quite

disinterested, efforts of our friends, the Birds.

But I do not regard the ravages of Insects as entirely due to the

reckless destruction and consequent scarcity of our Birds. I hold that

their multiplication and their devastations are largely incited by the

degeneracy of our plants caused by the badness of our culture. On this

point, consider a statement made to me, some fifteen or twenty years

ago, by the late Gov. William F. Packer, of Pennsylvania:

"I know (said Gov. P.) the narrow valley of a stream that runs into the

west branch of the Susquehanna, which was cleared of the primitive

forest some forty or fifty years since, and has ever since been

alternately in tillage and grass. A road ran through the middle of it,

dividing it into two narrow fields. A few years ago, this road was

abandoned, and the whole of this little valley, including the road-way,

thrown into a single field, which was thereupon sown to Wheat. At

harvest-time, this remarkable phenomenon was presented: A good crop of

sound grain on the strip four or fire rods wide formerly covered by the

road; while nearly every berry on either side of it was destroyed by the

weevil or midge."

Now I do not infer from this fact that insect ravages are _wholly_ due

to our abuse and exhaustion of the soil. I presume that Wheat and other

crops would be devastated by insects if there were no slovenly, niggard,

exhausting tillage. But I do firmly hold that at least half our losses

by insects would be precluded if our fields were habitually kept in

better heart by deep culture, liberal fertilizing, and a judicious

rotation of crops. I heard little of insect ravages in the wheat-fields

of Western New-York throughout the first thirty years of this century;

but, when crop after crop of Wheat had been taken from the same fields

until they had been well nigh exhausted of their Wheat-forming elements,

we began to hear of the desolation wrought by insects; and those ravages

increased in magnitude until Wheat-culture had to be abandoned for

years. I believe that we should have heard little of insects had Wheat

been grown on those fields but one year in three since their redemption

from the primal forest.

But, whatever might once have been, the Philistines are upon us. We are

doomed, for at least a generation, to wage a relentless war against

insects multiplied beyond reason by the neglect and short-comings of our

predecessors. We are in like condition with the inhabitants of the

British isles a thousand years ago, whose forefathers had so long

endured and so unskillfully resisted invasion and spoliation by the

Northmen that they had come to be regarded as the sea-kings' natural

prey. For generations, it has been customary hereabout to slaughter

without remorse the birds, and let caterpillars, worms, grasshoppers,

etc., multiply and ravage unresisted. We must pay for past errors by

present loss and years of extra effort. And, precisely because the task

is so arduous, we ought to lose no time in addressing ourselves to its

execution.

The first step to be taken is very simple. Let every farmer who realizes

the importance and beneficence of Birds teach his own children and

hirelings that, except the Hawk, they are to be spared, protected,

kindly treated, and (when necessary) fed. They are to be valued and

cherished as the voluntary police of our fields and gardens, constantly

employed in fighting our battles against our ruthless foes. The boy who

robs a bird's nest is robbing the farmer of a part of his crops. He who

traverses a farm shooting and mangling its feathered sentinels

diminishes its future product of Grain and nearly destroys that of

Fruit. The farmer might as well consent that any strolling ruffian

should shoot his Horses or Cattle as his Birds. Begin at home to make

this truth felt and respected, and it will be the easier to impress it

also on your neighbors.

Next, there should be neighborhood or township associations for the

protection of insect-eating birds. We must not merely agree to let them

live--we must cherish and protect them. I believe that very simple cups

or bowls of cast-iron, having each a hole in its centre of suitable

size, that need not cost sixpence each, and could be fastened to the

side of a tree with one nail lightly driven, would in time be adopted by

many birds as nesting strongholds, whence they might laugh to scorn

their predacious enemies. If every harmless bird could build its nest

among us in a place where its eggs would be safe from hawks, crows,

cats, boys, and other robbers, the number of such birds would quickly be

doubled and quadrupled.

And we must summon the law to our aid. Though law can do little or

nothing against stealthy, skulking nest-plunderers, it can help us

materially in our warfare with the cowardly vagabonds who traverse our

fields with musket or rifle, blazing away at every unsuspecting robin or

thrush that they can discover. Make it trespass, punishable with fine

and imprisonment, to shoot on another's land without his express

permission, and the cowardly massacre of the farmers' humble allies

would be checked at once, and, when public sentiment had been properly

enlightened, might, in civilized regions, be arrested altogether.

XXIII.

ABOUT TREE-PLANTING.

I have had so little experience in Tree-Planting that I should have

preferred to say no more about it; but letters that have reached me

imply that the ignorance of others is even denser than mine. For the

sake of those only who are conscious that they know nothing, yet are not

unwilling to learn, I venture a few timid suggestions with regard to

Tree-Planting.

I. Ten or twelve years ago, I bought a pound or more of Locust seed

rather late in the Spring, scalded it by plunging for a moment the

little cotton bag which held it into a pot of boiling water, and letting

the seed steep and steam in the bag till next morning, when the seed was

planted in rows in a newly broken bit of poor old pasture-land. This was

a mistake; I should have given that seed the richest available spot in

my garden, to say nothing of planting it as early as April 20th. My

locusts came up slowly and grew feebly that year, not to speak of the

many seeds that did not sprout at all. Still many came up and survived,

and my place is this day the richer for them. It might have been still

richer had I seasonably known more.

II. What I would now advise as to Locust and most other trees is that

the best seed be procured in the Fall, or so soon as it drops from the

trees; that part of it be sown in drills, two feet apart, with two

inches between seeds in the drills, and that the richest of dry, warm

garden-soil be devoted to this purpose. Fill a large box with rich loam,

stir four ounces of seed into this, and set the box in a cool cellar

where frost does not enter, and here let it remain till April; then take

out the seed and earth together, and sow in drills as above. If some one

who cuts Locust during the Winter or Spring will allow you to trace the

smaller surface-roots from the new-made stumps and cut or dig them up,

cut fifty or a hundred pieces of root the size of your finger each two

feet long, and plant these, about May 1, in the places where you want

Locusts to come forward most rapidly. Some of them may not grow, but I

think many will; and, from all these sources, I judge that you will

obtain a good supply of young trees. Let those you start from the seed

get two years' growth before you take them up and set them where you

want trees, whether in your present woods, in rugged, rocky pastures, on

the sides of steep ravines, or around your buildings. You cannot fail to

obtain _some_ trees if you follow these directions.

III. Begin early this Fall to gather Chestnuts, Hickory Nuts, Walnuts,

White Oak, Acorns, etc., to plant. Select the largest and finest nuts,

giving the preference to those which ripen and fall earliest. Keep them

in cool, damp earth in some barn or cellar where rats and mice cannot

reach them, and persist in collecting till December. Then plant a part

in your garden or in any rich ground where they are not likely to be

disturbed; letting the residue remain in the boxes of moist earth where

you first placed them till early Spring; then plant these, like the

former, in rows two feet apart, with six inches between seed and seed in

each row, and give the rows careful culture for two years; after which,

set them where you wish them to grow.

I venture to suggest that he who has a ragged, stony hill or other lot

which he wishes to surrender to forest should plow it, if it can be

plowed, next September or October; if too rocky to be even imperfectly

plowed, dig up the earth with pick and spade, and sow it thickly with

hickory nuts, walnuts, chestnuts, locust and other tree-seeds, expecting

that some will be dug up and carried off by squirrels, etc., and that

others will fail to germinate. Go over it with hoes the ensuing June or

July, killing all weeds and other infestations; and, nearly a year

later, repeat the operation, taking up young trees from your garden or

nursery, and filling them in wherever there is room. Plant thickly in

order to force an upward rather than a scraggy growth; and so that you

may begin to cut out the superfluous saplings for bean-poles,

hoop-poles, etc., three or four years thereafter. Cut late in Winter or

early in Spring, so that the stumps will each throw up two or more

shoots or sprouts, which usually grow much faster than the original tree

did. And the process of thinning may thus be continued indefinitely,

while the choicer trees are allowed to attain their stateliest

proportions. And thus a rocky, sterile hill-side or knoll may be made to

yield a crop annually after the first two or three years from planting,

while growing trees of decided value. I judge that almost any land

within fifty miles of a great city and not more than two miles from a

railroad depot or from navigable water may thus be made to earn a good

interest on $100 per acre, after meeting all the cost of breaking up and

planting. I confidently assert that many thousands of sterile, rocky

acres, which now yield less than $5 per acre annually in pasturage,

would net at least double that sum to the owner if wisely devoted to

forest-trees.

* * * * *

I have a hearty love of forests. They proffer gentle companionship to

the thoughtful and rest to the overworked, fevered brain. Our streams

will be fuller and less capricious, our gales less destructive, our

climate more equable, when we shall have reclothed our rugged slopes and

rocky crests with trees. Timber grows yearly scarcer and dearer, when it

ought to be becoming more plentiful and accessible, and _would_ be if we

devoted to trees all the land which we cultivate at a loss or fail to

cultivate at all. Let our boys be incited to gather seeds and plant

nurseries; let young trees be bought by the thousand where they now are

by the dozen, and let us all cooperate in covering our unsightly rocks

and making glad our waste places by a superabundance of choice, thrifty,

healthy trees.

Many of our young men have a taste for adventure and excitement which

leads them to the ocean, the mines, to Australia or some other far-off

land recently and scantily peopled by civilized beings. I will not

quarrel with their taste; but I judge that there are openings for their

enterprise and daring within the area of our own country. Let one

thousand of them resolve to devote the next five years to planting

forests on the treeless plains and virtual deserts of the Great Basin

and on either side of it; let them select locations where some acres may

cheaply and surely be irrigated, and, having carefully provided

themselves with an abundance of the best seeds, let them start patches

of woodland at points the most remote from present timber, until a

thousand different forests--one to each of the associates--shall have

been started and guarded till their roots have taken firm hold of the

earth. I presume Congress would grant them preemptions to each section

on which they thus planted at least forty acres of forest, and that most

of these preemption rights could, within ten years, be sold to settlers

for many times their original cost.

XXIV.

FRUIT-TREES--THE APPLE.

If I were asked to say what single aspect of our economic condition most

strikingly and favorably distinguished the people of our Northern States

from these of most if not all other countries which I have traversed, I

would point at once to the fruit-trees which so generally diversify

every little as well as larger farm throughout these States, and are

quite commonly found even on the petty holdings of the poorer mechanics

and workmen in every village and in the suburbs and outskirts of every

city. I can recall nothing like it abroad, save in two or three of the

least mountainous and most fertile districts of northern Switzerland.

Italy has some approach to it in the venerable olive-trees which

surround or flank many, perhaps most, of her farm-houses, upholding

grape-vines as ancient and nearly as large as themselves; but the

average New-England or Middle State homestead, with its ample

Apple-orchard and its cluster of Pear, Cherry and Plum-trees surrounding

its house and dotting or belting its garden, has an air of comfort and

modest thrift, which I have nowhere else seen fairly equaled. Upland

Virginia and the mountainous portion of the States southward of her may

in time surpass the most favored regions of the North in the abundance,

variety and excellence of their fruits; for the Peach and the Grape find

here a congenial climate, while they are grown with difficulty, where

they can be grown at all, in the North; but, up to this hour, I judge

that our country north of the Potomac is better supplied with wholesome

and palatable tree-fruits than any other portion of the earth's surface

of equal or nearly equal area.

On the whole, I deem it a misfortune that our Northern States were so

admirably adapted to the Apple and kindred fruit-trees that our pioneer

forefathers had little more to do than bury the seeds in the ground and

wait a few years for the resulting fruit. The soil, formed of decayed

trees and their foliage, thickly covered with the ashes of the primitive

forest, was as genial as soil could be; while the remaining woods, which

still covered seven-eighths of the country, shut out or softened the

cold winds of Winter and Spring, rendering it less difficult, a century

ago, to grow fine peaches in southern New-Hampshire than it now is in

southern New-York. Devastating insects were precluded by those great,

dense woods from diffusing themselves from orchard to orchard as they

now do. Snows fell more heavily and lay longer then than now, protecting

the roots from heavy frosts, and keeping back buds and blossoms in

Spring, to the signal advantage of the husbandman. I estimate that my

apple-trees would bear at least one-third more fruit if I could retard

their blossoming a fortnight, so as to avoid the cold rains and cutting

winds, often succeeded by frosts, which are apt to pay their unwelcome

farewell visits just when my trees are in bloom or when the fruit is

forming directly thereafter. Hence, I say to every one who shall

hereafter set an orchard, Give it the northward slope of a hill if that

be possible. Other things being equal, the orchard which blossoms latest

will, in a series of years, yield most fruit, and will be most likely to

bear when the Apple-crop of your vicinity proves a failure. I do not

recommend storing ice to plant or bury under the trees in April, for

that involves too much labor and expense; yet I have no doubt that even

that has been and sometimes might be done with profit. In the average,

however, I judge that it would not pay.

In locating and setting an orchard, the very first consideration is

thorough drainage. Nothing short of a destructive fire can be more

injurious to an apple-tree than compelling it to stand throughout Winter

and Spring in sour, stagnant water. Barrenness, dead branches, and

premature general decay, are the natural and righteous consequences of

such crying abuse. There are many reasons for choosing sloping or broken

ground for an apple-orchard, whereof comparative exemption from frost

and natural facility of drainage are the most obvious. A level field,

thoroughly undrained to-day, may, through neglect and the mischiefs

wrought by burrowing animals, have become little better than a morass

thirty years hence; but an orchard set on a tolerably steep hillside is

reasonably secure against wet feet to the close of its natural life.

A gravelly or sandy loam is generally preferred for orchards; yet I have

known them to flourish and bear generously on heavy clay. Whoever has a

gravelly field will wisely prefer this for Apples, not merely to clay

but to sand as well.

And, while many young orchards have doubtless been injured by immoderate

applications of rank, green manures, I doubt that any man has ever yet

bestowed too much care and expense on the preparation of his ground for

fruit-trees. Where ridges or plateaus of fast stone do not forbid, I

would say, Turn over the soil to a depth of at least fifteen inches with

a large plow and a strong team; then lift and pulverize the subsoil to a

depth of not less than nine inches; apply all the Wood-ashes you can

get, with one thousand bushels of Marl if you are in a Marl region; if

not, use instead from thirty to fifty bushels of quick Lime

(oyster-shell if that is to be had) with one hundred loads per acre of

Swamp Muck which has lain a year on dry upland, baking in the sun and

wind; and now you may think of setting your trees. If your soil was rich

Western prairie or Middle-State garden to begin with, you can dispense

with all these fertilizers; yet I doubt that there is an acre of Western

prairie that would not be improved by the Lime or (perhaps better

still) a smaller quantity of refuse Salt from a packing-house or meat

retailing grocery. There are not many farms that would not repay the

application of five bushels per acre of refuse Salt at twenty-five cents

per bushel.

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