A STRANGER APPEARS
Hiram Strong was learning something about corn growing that he had not
found out before. That is, after all, one of the greatest charms of the
science of agriculture: There is always something new to learn.
There is in addition always something new to find out regarding the
methods adopted in different localities for the cultivation of the same
crop. Farmers who have cultivated a certain plant in a certain locality
where their fathers and grandfathers have grown the same plant, usually
develop an almost uncanny knowledge of the conditions under which that
particular plant will best grow and come to fruitage.
All the scientific knowledge of farming methods does not come from the
agriculture colleges; the ordinary farmer often cultivates his crop in
a certain way because it is the right way without knowing the reason
for following that particular method.
One thing about growing corn in this Middle West section of the
country was fast becoming a conviction in Hiram Strong's mind. Methods
which had grown him a bumper crop of corn in the East might work quite
as well here on Sunnyside Farm, but there had arisen objections to
them. He had admitted as much to Orrin Post on a recent occasion.
His old methods were quite necessary for the locality in which he had
used them. But corn growing on the Atterson Eighty and corn growing on
Sunnyside Farm were two distinctly different matters.
"Always something new to learn," Hiram said to his companion.
"Right you are," answered Orrin. "A good deal to learn," and he sighed
heavily.
Throughout July and more than half of August Hiram and Orrin worked
almost on the run to keep up with the growing corn. Jerry and his mate
lost flesh under this grilling work. To get over all the fields, and at
the proper time, with one-horse cultivators, was an almost superhuman
task.
Besides, Hiram watched the shallow cultivation of his neighbors'
corn. They used two- and three-horse knife-hoes that stirred the soil
scarcely an inch deep and left the earth between the rows just as level
as the harrow had left it when the field was first smoothed.
Most of these farms about Sunnyside were more heavily manured than
the fields that Hiram cultivated. The neighboring farms had not been
cropped to death by careless tenants.
These neighbors planted their corn in rows rather than checking it. The
stalks stood twelve to fifteen inches apart in the row, making more
than twice the number of hills to the acre than Hiram had planted.
He was satisfied that he had planted and left to grow all the corn his
land would develop properly. Two stalks to a hill and two good ears to
a stalk was better to his mind than more fodder and less corn.
The cultivating method followed by the neighboring farmers was not
all it might be. The two- and three-horse cultivators left much to be
desired. There were more weeds left in the row than Hiram cared to see.
When he and Orrin got through cultivating a piece of corn they could
safely have offered a prize for any weed in the field that had not been
covered.
In this connection, however, Hiram had something to learn, too.
This land was not so cursed with weeds as that he had been used to
cultivating farther East. There was no twitch-grass, wild mustard,
or purslane. After many years of deep plowing and crop rotation, the
fields of this part of the corn-belt were comparatively free of weeds.
Only on land that had been allowed to lie fallow were the weeds a pest.
The fields of Sunnyside Farm must be greatly improved before Hiram
could, however, take up the local methods of corn growing in every
particular.
He knew of no improving crop better suited to his needs than crimson
clover. It is rich in nitrogen, makes a heavy crop of hay before
corn-planting time, and it could be sowed at the last cultivation of
the present corn crop.
The drawback was that it necessitated the cutting of the corn to the
ground and the removal of the shocks from the field. On the better
farms near by the corn was allowed to cure on the standing stalk and
then the cattle and hogs were turned in to graze on the fodder, the
stalks being knocked down and cut up by the disc harrow before plowing
in the spring.
That was another method Hiram could not adopt. If his clover catch was
worth anything at all he did not want the corn stalks mixed with it
at hay-making time. He talked the matter over with Mr. Bronson, and
a machine was secured at harvesting time that, drawn by one of the
Percherons, went through the field cutting two rows of corn at a time
and giving the two men working with it all they could do shocking the
corn at proper intervals.
This corn finished curing in the shock and the husking was done at the
barn where the fodder was stacked against the increasing need of the
herd of young stock that Mr. Bronson was continually adding to.
This method of harvesting cost more in time and labor than Hiram could
have desired; but it left his fields clean and gave the young clover a
better chance.
The corn he had obtained from Daniel Brown proved to be all that Hiram
had hoped it would be. That which he had raised for seed was so evenly
matured and sound in the ear that Mr. Bronson admitted it was by far
the most satisfactory variety Hiram had tried. And how it did mount up
in the cribs with its glossy red and yellow grains!
The wheat thrashing had yielded Hiram not more than sixteen to eighteen
bushels to the acre--scarcely a paying investment. But it was all
profit for Mr. Bronson, as the crop had been planted when he bought the
farm.
Hiram knew well enough where the fault lay. The land was not strong
enough for wheat, and he proposed to plant but a small acreage to that
grain for the next season.
"Oats will pay us better, I believe. Some of this upland can be plowed
early in the spring, and as soon as the oats are off we'll disc and
put in cowpeas, turning them under for the corn crop."
"Ow!" ejaculated his employer, "do you mean to plow under both the oat
stubble and the peas for the corn?"
"If you want corn--real corn," the young fellow told him. "This land is
poverty stricken. And give me all the cattle you can find, Mr. Bronson.
I'll manage to feed them somehow or other."
The ensilage crop demanded his attention and the labor of all the hands
for the better part of a week. Even Mr. Turner had been forced to
confess that _something_ had happened to that twenty acres of Sunnyside
along the county road that heretofore had yielded such poor crops.
Since Hiram's underdraining scheme had gone into effect the soil seemed
entirely different. The corn and cowpeas had grown like a rank swamp.
When cut and carted to the shredder it was so heavy it was all a man
could do to lift a forkful.
It was not particularly hard to load the wagon in the field; getting
the ensilage off the cart was the more difficult part of the job.
A brief experience taught the young farm manager something. He unhung
the wagon and put the low wheels behind and the big wheels in front.
With side racks spread at a wide angle and chains front and rear to
hold the racks, they were enabled to pile an enormous load upon the
sloping wagon body.
The Percherons could pull all the ensilage the men could pile on. When
drawn to the shredder all that was needed was to unfasten the chains at
front and rear and draw the wagon out from under the load.
This was quick work and kept the crew at the shredder busy all the
time. The ensilage was blown into the silo as rapidly as it was
shredded, and at the end of the week the huge tank was filled.
Hiram at once had the twenty-acre piece broadcasted with stable manure,
and as the heavy crop of corn and peas had kept the soil comparatively
moist it was plowed much easier than might have been expected after the
August drought. At wheat planting Hiram used a good fertilizer in the
drill and set the sprouts to run about a bushel and a half rather than
a bushel and a peck to the acre.
This he did save on the lower four acres next to Yancey Battick's
place. This patch was considered by both Mr. Bronson and Battick the
best soil for experiment with the new wheat, and Battick planted the
wonderful new grain himself, using a hand-sower and sowing only three
pecks to the acre.
The new wheat plant proved to stool so heavily that Battick claimed
the field would be quite as well covered in the spring as the rest of
the twenty acres. Hiram had observed the stooling property of the new
wheat; but he had some doubt about its being well to sow the grain so
thinly. He feared it would not furnish sufficient protection for the
ground.
But as this crop was for seed rather than for bulk of grain, it might
be all right. In any case the young farmer watched the experiment with
much interest.
Long before Thanksgiving the farm work was pretty well cleared up.
Hiram kept only Orrin and the boy, Jim Larry, to help him do the winter
chores. The three of them could feed the cattle, draw out the stable
manure and spread it on the corn land which he would first plow in the
early spring, and do the other necessary winter work.
The house had been long since finished, although the interior had not
been decorated, as Mr. Bronson wished to wait for the house to settle.
It was otherwise ready for occupancy and there was a heating plant in
the cellar. Hiram and the boys moved into the house when the weather
became severe and started the furnace. Mr. Bronson furnished some
necessities in the way of cots and warm blankets, and the three were
very comfortable.
Miss Delia Pringle insisted upon coming over on frequent occasions and
"ridding up" for them.
"For, talk as you will, men-folks ain't fitted by nature to be good
housekeepers. For the land's sake! I remember once my mother and I
went away from home for a time and left father alone, and when we came
back we couldn't tell for the mess there was whether it was father or
the dog that had lived in the kitchen. I am sure of one thing--the
dog-kennel was a long sight the cleanest!"
Miss Pringle was anxious to have another dance in the new house at
Sunnyside; but Hiram did not like to ask Mr. Bronson for permission.
There were certain rough fellows in the neighborhood who Hiram believed
had helped Adam Banks loose Turner's bull on the occasion of the former
dance. Besides, Ad Banks himself was at home again for the winter.
What the fellow had been doing about Sunnyside at the time of the
tornado in June, Hiram had never discovered. He certainly had not
remained at home for long on that occasion. Yancey Battick was not at
all convinced that Banks had not come straight from Loomisville for the
express purpose of burning his stack of wheat. Battick still clung to
the belief that the men who had stolen his Mortgage Lifter Oats had
information of the new wheat, and were determined to ruin his chances
of raising a crop of it for seed if they could do so. Adam Banks would
be a perfect instrument to their hands, he declared, and he felt that
Banks must be watched closely.
However this might be, Hiram did not wish to tempt the ne'er-do-well
to try any further tricks about Sunnyside Farm. Hiram, with Orrin and
Jim Larry, were always on the keen lookout for Adam Banks. Orrin, by
this time, was in good health and quite able to defend himself in
any case. His ability to work well and his willingness pleased Hiram
immeasurably. If only the fellow was not so secretive about his past!
Hiram knew little more about Orrin Post now than he had when he found
him in the calf shed, eight or nine months before.
Orrin in all this time had never mentioned his family, his friends,
where he was born, or what his circumstances had been before he came to
Sunnyside Farm. His having been driven away by his former employer when
he was taken ill, was positively all the information he had vouchsafed.
Hiram had learned that he had come through Pringleton the day he had
arrived at Sunnyside. Previous to such arrival, however, Orrin Post's
life was a total blank to the young farm manager.
Hiram did not believe that Orrin's previous life had been a happy
existence. It might be even that he had had trouble with the police,
and for that reason was so close-mouthed. Nevertheless, Hiram kept such
thoughts as this to himself. For his own part he accepted Orrin Post at
his face value.
The three young fellows at Sunnyside used the kitchen to cook and eat
in, set up their cots in the dining room, and occasionally on a rainy
day or on Sunday sat in the parlor, where they could watch the road
through the broad windows.
They were doing this last on one dripping Sunday afternoon, when Jim
spied a vehicle coming up the hill from the direction of Battick's and
Pringleton. He did not identify the horses or the man driving them.
"Stranger in this neighborhood," he announced. "That fellow driving has
got a bushel of whiskers on his face. Did you ever see the like?"
Hiram was reading and did not even get up to look out. Orrin, however,
examined the approaching turnout at some length, but he made no comment
and finally drifted out of the room. Hiram heard him open and close
the back door just as Jim exclaimed:
"Hey! Old Whiskers is stopping here. He's waving his whip and calling.
What do you suppose he wants, Mr. Strong?"
Hiram put down his book. "The best way to find out is to ask him," he
said laughing, and rose to go to the front door.