I have just been through Iowa, Minnesota and Wisconsin, on a tour of
inspection. I rode for over ten days in these States in a sleeping-car,
examining crops, so that I could write an intelligent report.
Grain in Northern Wisconsin suffered severely in the latter part of the
season from rust, chintz bug, Hessian fly and trichina. In the St. Croix
valley wheat will not average a half crop. I do not know why farmers
should insist upon leaving their grain out nights in July, when they
know from the experience of former years that it will surely rust.
In Southern Wisconsin too much rain has almost destroyed many crops, and
cattle have been unable to get enough to eat, unless they were fed, for
several weeks. This is a sad outlook for the farmer at this season.
In the Northern part of the State many fields of grain were not worth
cutting, while others barely yielded the seed, and even that of a very
inferior quality.
The ruta-baga is looking unusually well this fall, but we cannot subsist
entirely upon the ruta-baga. It is juicy and rich if eaten in large
quantities, but it is too bulky to be popular with the aristocracy.
Cabbages in most places are looking well, though in some quarters I
notice an epidemic of worms. To successfully raise the cabbage, it will
be necessary at all times to be well supplied with vermifuge that can be
readily administered at any hour of the day or night.
The crook-neck squash in the Northwest is a great success this season.
And what can be more beautiful, as it calmly lies in its bower of green
vines in the crisp and golden haze of autumn, than the cute little
crook-neck squash, with yellow, warty skin, all cuddled up together in
the cool morning, like the discarded wife of an old Mormon elder--his
first attempt in the matrimonial line, so to speak, ere he had gained
wisdom by experience.
The full-dress, low-neck-and-short-sleeve summer squash will be worn as
usual this fall, with trimmings of salt and pepper in front and revers
of butter down the back.
N. B.--It will not be used much as an outside wrap, but will be worn
mostly inside.
Hop-poles in some parts of Wisconsin are entirely killed. I suppose that
continued dry weather in the early summer did it.
Hop-lice, however, are looking well. Many of our best hop-breeders
thought that when the hop-pole began to wither and die, the hop-louse
could not survive the intense dry heat; but hop-lice have never looked
better in this State than they do this fall.
I can remember very well when Wisconsin had to send to Ohio for
hop-lice. Now she could almost supply Ohio and still have enough to fill
her own coffers.
I do not know that hop-lice are kept in coffers, and I may be wrong in
speaking thus freely of these two subjects, never having seen either
a hop-louse or a coffer, but I feel that the public must certainly and
naturally expect me to say something on these subjects. Fruit in the
Northwest this season is not a great success. Aside from the cranberry
and choke-cherry, the fruit yield in the Northern district is light. The
early dwarf crab, with or without worms, as desired--but mostly with--is
unusually poor this fall. They make good cider. This cider when put into
a brandy flask that has not been drained too dry, and allowed to stand
until Christmas, puts a great deal of expression into a country dance. I
have tried it once myself, so that I could write it up for your valuable
paper.
People who were present at that dance, and who saw me frolic around
there like a thing of life, say that it was well worth the price of
admission. Stone fence always flies right to the weakest spot. So it
goes right to my head and makes me eccentric.
[Illustration: 0171]
The violin virtuoso who "fiddled," "called off" and acted as justice of
the peace that evening, said that I threw aside all reserve and entered
with great zest into the dance, and seemed to enjoy it much better than
those who danced in the same set with me. Since that, the very sight of
a common crab apple makes my head reel. I learned afterward that this
cider had frozen, so that the alleged cider which we drank that night
was the clear, old-fashioned brandy, which, of course, would not freeze.
We should strive, however, to lead such lives that we will never be
ashamed to look a cider barrel square in the bung.