have a good market for it at five cents a bunch during the spring
and summer. It is positively no trouble after it is introduced into
congenial soil, for it spreads rapidly, and needs no cultivation beyond
the cutting what is necessary for market.
Don’t make the mistake of transplanting the common wild mint, for
usually the flavour is more like peppermint than spearmint, which is
the variety demanded for sauces. We bought three plants originally,
which cost fifteen cents each, and now it covers about fifty feet of
one side of the back garden, where the ground is moist and shaded by
some old quince trees.
GROWING WATERCRESS
Watercress is in constant demand the year round in the markets of all
large cities, so it is a salable crop which should especially appeal
to the commuter class of farmers, as it must be freshly gathered to be
at its best, and naturally cannot be shipped long distances to market,
which is perhaps the principal reason for its being such a profitable
crop. In France and England, watercress farms are quite numerous,
especially in the vicinity of Paris and London; but in this country
it is only just beginning to be cultivated to any great extent, the
principal market supply being furnished by Italians who take short
journeys into the country and gather it from the ponds and streams
where it grows wild. Under such circumstances it is not surprising that
the leaves of poisonous water plants are often found in bunches offered
for sale in the public markets. We have supplied our egg customers
and one hotel with cress for four years, and never received less than
five cents a bunch--usually ten cents--and from November to March from
twelve to fifteen cents for a good-sized bunch.
Like a good many of the side lines which have brought grist to our
mill, it developed from an apparent accident. There was a large wild
bed in the stream which ran through the lower meadows, from which we
gathered cress during the spring and summer. Chancing down a wagon-road
one day in January, we were astonished to see lots of fresh green
sprigs growing under the meagre shelter of a low log bridge which
crossed the brook. We accepted the hint, and determined to protect
enough of the brook the following year to supply us with fresh salad
through the winter. Some time in October, brush was piled up for a
distance of about six feet on each side of the stream. In November,
when the nights commenced to be really cold, we made some frames out of
thin cedar poles, interlaced them with strong cedar branches, and then
placed them over the stream, with the ends resting on the brush, which
elevated them about nine inches above the cress. Though primitive, the
arrangement proved beyond doubt that forcing watercress was practicable.
During that winter we often put a little cress around the poultry which
was being shipped to private customers, and so many requests came for
a regular supply that we concluded it would pay to increase the beds.
But as the stream was some distance from the house, and accessible to
the cows when they were in the lower pasture, we resolved to utilize
the escape from the spring-house, which was never failing. It had up
to that time been carried off by a tile-drain under the side lawn.
Operations were commenced by digging a ditch three feet wide, one foot
deep. At first it was only made fifty feet long; subsequently it was
increased to one hundred feet. As the ground was heavy clay, we carted
clean sand from a bank at the other end of the farm, and covered the
bottom of the ditch to the depth of three inches to form a seed-bed,
and also to militate the usual creepy-crawly brook creatures.
At every five feet of the ditch, sluices were inserted--just box-like
arrangements, made out of rough boards, one of which could be raised
and lowered at will, so that the amount of water in each five-foot
section would be under control. When the ditch and sluices were
completed, a trap divided through the middle was put in front of the
escape from the spring-house to divide the flow of water, and one
length of the tile at each end of the trap carried it to the opposite
sides of the ditch to insure even distribution.
It is a special stone building, twelve feet square, used for milk and
butter. The floor is about three feet below the ground, and a gutter,
fourteen inches wide and twelve inches deep, runs all round the four
sides, and is kept continually full of cold running water from a spring
situated about three feet to the right of the house. The water is
divided by a stone as it enters the house, and goes to the right or
left in the gutter until it reaches the escape at the opposite side
of the house. The floor and gutter are made of stone, so the place is
beautifully clean and very like an old-country dairy.
After the beds had been thoroughly saturated with water, all but the
merest dribble was shut off. Roots from the meadow brook were taken up,
washed carefully in fresh water to remove the before-mentioned creepy
creatures, and then set out in the sand at the bottom of the ditch.
Field stones were placed on the roots of each plant to prevent their
being dislodged by the action of the water before they had had time to
establish an anchorage. After two weeks the whole supply of water was
allowed to run into the ditch, and it covered the bottom to a depth of
five inches.
Fully one-half the plants died and had to be replanted, but the
following year the entire ditch was a solid mass of cress. The leaves
were much larger, and the flavour much better, than the cress had ever
been in its wild state. Of course, if the best price was to be obtained
in the winter, our desire was to force the crop at that season. We
built sides fifteen inches deep to the ditch, using rough slabs, which
only cost us fifty cents a load from the sawmill in the woods. Then we
used the ordinary cold-frame sash over the top.
After the beds are once established, their cultivation consists in
cutting, and nothing else; and, as the cutting is necessary for
the market supply, it is really truer to call it harvesting than
cultivating; though neglecting to cut the beds regularly as soon as
they are four inches high will ruin a bed very rapidly, as the plants
grow thick-stemmed and sprawly.
We find that old beds as a rule are not as profitable as young ones,
so we make a practice of renewing three or four sections every year.
The method is to withhold water in July until the plants die, then pull
them up, after which the bottom of the ditch is dug over to let in the
air and sweeten the ground. After a lapse of two or three days, it
is raked down level again, and a few loads of fresh sand spread over
the bottom, saturated with water as before, though, instead of old
roots, we now use slips three inches long, taken from the ends of old
branching plants. They root very quickly, and make better plants than
the old roots.
Twice we have started an entirely new stock from the seed, and think
the result quite worthy of the extra trouble. The seed is very light
and small, so it is best to start it in shallow pans filled with sand,
which must, of course, be kept saturated with water, but not submerged.
May or June is the best season for this planting, for then plants
are large enough to transplant into beds in July, and will be well
established before the forcing season.
For a small home supply through the winter, half-barrels or wash-tubs
may be used. Half fill them with sandy soil and stand in a light, warm
cellar. Set slips four inches apart in August, and keep perpetually
moist. If you have no means of getting slips, buy seed from any good
seedsman. Start in shallow pans in June.
I saw an item in a paper, not long ago, which estimated that an acre
of watercress, at its present market prices, would bring from four to
five hundred dollars a year.
Watercress should be carefully prepared for market. Gather and bunch
at once, to prevent unnecessary handling. Cut the stalks evenly after
the bunches are tied up, and pack in light crates lined with hay or
moss. Place bunches closely together in rows, with hay or moss between
layers. Ship on late trains if they have to go by express, to avoid
exposure to the heat of the sun during transit. When small quantities
are going to private customers, pack in strawberry or grape boxes, as
there is less likelihood of the cress heating and spoiling when packed
in this way.
MY EXPERIENCE WITH BEES
The old-fashioned hive was so inconvenient and wasteful that many
people who date their knowledge of bee-keeping from the old homestead
will find it difficult to believe that apiculture has developed into a
practical, money-making industry during the last twenty years, until
now the average amount of honey put on the market each year is upward
of a hundred million pounds, representing a money value of from eight
to ten million dollars.
In a favourable locality one hive, with its average colony of
thirty-five thousand workers and a queen, will turn out from thirty to
forty pounds, besides the fifteen or twenty necessary to feed the hive
through the winter.
The vicious temper of the old-time black bee has much to do with the
neglect of this profitable industry. The Italian bees are, however, so
much better as honey-gatherers that they are almost universally kept
now, and are so gentle in disposition that even a nervous person can
easily learn to manipulate them without fear of stings.
The principal honey-producing plants in our Eastern states are fruit
bloom of all kinds, locust, white clover, crimson clover, basswood,
sumac, goldenrod, buckwheat, sunflowers, grapes and asters. Of these,
clover, basswood and buckwheat provide the bulk of our honey crop
in most localities, although large yields are often obtained from
others. Fruit bloom, though yielding much honey, comes so early in
the season that it is mostly consumed by the bees in brood-rearing.
Clover commences the last of May, lasts several weeks, and yields a
light-coloured honey of fine flavour. Basswood blooms the first part of
July, lasts about ten days, and produces a very white honey. Buckwheat
blooms in August and the first part of September. It gives a dark-red
honey with a strong flavour.
My apiary started with three hives, bought for two dollars at a farm
auction. I knew nothing about bees or hives at the time; the owner was
not there to be questioned, so it was a truly risky proceeding, not
to be recommended. But if chance makes it possible to pick up one or
two good hives of the box, movable-frame style, and bees of any sort
for a few dollars, take them and improve the stock by introducing good
Italian queens, which can be bought for two dollars and fifty cents
each from any bee-supply house. They can be shipped through the mail in
small cages.
When an Italian queen is introduced into a hive of common bees in
May or June there will be no sign of the original occupants in the
fall. For the working bees are such indefatigable toilers that during
blossom-time they usually wear themselves out in about six weeks, and
most certainly never survive more than twelve. The drones are driven
from the hive to die whenever any of the different blossom crops
which supply honey are on the decline. Queens live for years, but as
perpetuators of their race are only to be relied upon for three years.
If your immediate neighbourhood cannot furnish stock to start with, the
best plan is to send for frames of nuclei and a queen. One frame would
cost three dollars, and hardly contains sufficient bees to build up a
strong colony, therefore it is better to send for three frames, which
will make a splendid start, and only cost an additional one dollar and
fifty cents. If purchased in June or July they will have multiplied
so considerably by the time buckwheat is in blossom that you will be
able to build up a second colony. Of course, a hive filled with a full
complement of bees can be bought, but would cost at least ten dollars.
Express charges would be very expensive, as bees come under the head of
live creatures, and double rates must be paid. The frames of nuclei are
packed in light cases which cost less than half.
A hive must be ready to receive the little travellers on their arrival,
and here again it is advisable to consider express charges. One hive
ready for use will cost two dollars and sixty cents, and almost as much
expressage as five hives “in the flat,” as dealers call it, and the
five hives can be had for nine dollars and twenty-five cents. Nails
of the correct size and full instructions are sent with the hive, so
even a feminine amateur will find it quite easy to put them together.
I use two-story, dovetailed hives, which consist of a cover, bottom,
brood-chamber and two supers. Bees are best kept in a quiet corner of
the garden, or under the trees in the orchard, where they are protected
from the noon-day sun and east winds. When we had only two or three
hives they stood on a shelf in an open-fronted shelter, which was made
from a large packing-case bought from the general store for twenty
cents. In the winter we packed straw or leaves around the hives, and
set up boards in front, which leaned against the top of the case,
and sloped out a few inches at the ground. This was to keep out the
snow and rain and yet allow plenty of ventilation. Now that hives are
scattered through the orchard, we simply slip each into a case a little
larger than itself, and set up a board in front. Further south no
protection will be required, but in the North it would be advisable to
carry the hives into a dry, well-ventilated cellar for the winter. The
only drawback to the latter plan is that the bees may become restless
quite early in the spring, so the condition of hives should be watched.
A small hand-mirror held at the opening of the hive, and a light held
in the other hand so that it will shine into the hive, will enable you
to see what is going on inside. If the bees appear restless, it is a
sure sign that they need more air. Opening the cellar windows after
dark on a moderate night will usually supply all the ventilation that
is necessary, until the middle or end of March, when it is best to let
the bees have a cleansing flight if they still appear restless. It is
not very much trouble, when only a few hives are kept, to carry them
out on a warm day and place them where they stood last fall. It should
be done early in the morning and as carefully as possible, so as not
to disturb the inmates, who will gradually arouse as the sun gains
strength, and take flight. This will relieve the intestines of the
waste matter which has caused their restlessness. After the sun has
gone down in the evening, carry the hives back into the cellar, and the
bees will be quiet until spring is sufficiently advanced to warrant
putting them out for the season, which is usually when soft maples and
willows commence to furnish pollen.
As soon as the days are warm in spring we go through the hives and give
them a general clean-up. If a hive appears to be short of honey, a comb
from a hive that is well supplied is removed and given to it, and as
some bees are sure to have died during the winter, some colonies will
be stronger than others, so things must be evened up. When a hive has
more than five frames filled with brood, one or two are taken out and
placed in hives having less than five frames filled with brood. A great
advantage of the modern frame-hive is this being able to take out and
put in brood, and later add supers and empty sections as the original
ones are filled with honey.
A bee’s life is apparently a most accurately prearranged existence,
filled with allotted duties, which are intuitively understood and
unerringly performed. There is only one queen allowed in each colony,
and she lays all the eggs, the workers being imperfectly-developed
females. Drones are the masculine members of the population, lazy
fellows, whom the workers have to feed, hence the reason for their
being expelled from the hive whenever food is scarce.
The queen is truly a royal personage, who only leaves the hive to take
what is called the nuptial flight, when she meets some drone in midair,
and returns to become the sole mother of the hive. She is always
guarded by a small retinue of attendants, who feed and care for her as
she wanders from cell to cell, depositing an egg in each with untiring
zeal. The egg develops into a tiny grub-like worm, which is fed for
seven days by young workers; then the cell is capped over by another
set of workers, the grub being left undisturbed for eleven or twelve
days, by which time it has developed into a full-fledged bee, which
gnaws its way out of the cell, and at once takes up the duties of life.
For six or seven days its time is devoted to feeding the newly-hatched
eggs, then, for about the same length of time, building combs and
cleaning the hives, after which it is evidently considered strong
enough to leave the hive and commence the arduous task of gathering
honey. The queen is exempt from all work.
Within a week or two after a virgin queen has taken her nuptial flight,
the hive should be opened and the frames removed, one by one, and
examined until the queen is found. She can be distinguished from the
others by the length of her body and the way the other bees cluster
around her. Pick her up very gently by the back, being careful not to
squeeze her abdomen, and with a pair of sharp scissors clip both wings
on one side of her body. This insures a short flight at swarming-time.
When she again issues from the hive, usually the excited condition of
the bees will indicate when this is going to take place, and as the
queen cannot fly with her cut wings, you will have little trouble, for
she will be found on the ground near the hive, with a group of bees
around her, and the full swarm not far away. Approach very quietly, and
place a small wire trap over the queen. The traps are sold by all the
bee-supply firms, and cost twenty-five cents. Place the trap in the
opening of the hive you desire the swarm to occupy, cautiously approach
the full swarm, and with a soft broom sweep the bees into the hive if
the position they occupy makes it possible; if not, use a box or pan,
and carry them to the hive and empty them in front. They will soon
commence to occupy the new home. The slide of the queen trap can be
opened, and the bees inside will settle down to business.
After the first swarm, early in the season, it is advisable to take
every possible means to prevent after-swarms. Want of room is the main
cause for old bees leaving a hive, so a great deal may be accomplished
by careful manipulation of the frames. The lower part of the hive is
devoted to brood-rearing; the other part is composed of the frames
which hold the section-boxes. Section-boxes are the small square cases
in which comb-honey is marketed.
Among the modern inventions in apiculture is the comb foundation, or
starter, as it is sometimes called. In the old days bees had to supply
all the wax to build the combs. Now it is bought with the cells ready
started, and the bees have only to draw them out and finish off the
work, which of course saves the little workers much time, and enables
them to store more honey. What is termed medium foundation is used in
the brood-frames, and thin or extra thin in the section-boxes. Bees
will sometimes ignore extra space when added above the frames where
they have been working, so it is advisable to raise the top super, and
insert another one below it. This supplying empty sections materially
mitigates swarming, but does not always prevent it. It is the
after-swarms that it is so important to check, as they are of little
use, seldom being able to gather sufficient stores to keep them through
the winter. In September all hives should be examined, and if any have
less than twenty-five pounds of honey, artificial feeding must be
resorted to. Make a syrup of equal quantities of sugar and water; heat
slowly, stirring all the time, being very careful not to let it scorch,
for burnt syrup means destruction to the bees. Allow it to cool, and
then fill what is known as a Miller feeder, which costs thirty-five
cents, and fits into any of the movable-frame hives.
[Illustration: A CELLAR STORE ROOM]
STORING FRUIT AND VEGETABLES
At least one-half of the profit to be derived from living in the
country materialises in winter when fruit and vegetables can be struck
from the family living expenses, so the keeping and storing of the
garden and orchard products are of great importance to the housewife
who wants to make the home furnish current expenses. To keep well,
things must be gathered at the moment between full development and
complete ripeness, for, if development is not complete, fruit and
vegetables shrink and wither; if completely ripe, they decay rapidly.
The house cellar, attic, or a root-cellar or pit in the garden are all
available on a country place, and all suitable for different things.
The cellar is best for storing fruits and vegetables. Long ago we had
racks made of two-by-two scantling--some six feet long, others three
feet, and both two feet wide--to put under barrels and boxes to lift
them from the ground and allow a free current of air to circulate
underneath them as a protection against damp and mildew. To economise
space, we had boxes, ten feet long and ten inches deep, fixed in tiers
of three, with one foot of space between. The frames which supported
them were also made of two-by-two scantling, and reached from the
rafters of the ceiling to the ground.
The keeping of early fruits, like currants, strawberries, and
raspberries, depends principally upon the cook’s skill, for they have
to be canned and made into preserves and jellies. Get into the habit
of doing such work in small quantities--from a quart to six quarts, or
even a pint, as the day’s gathering may provide. The habit of waiting
for the height of the season, when a big gathering is possible, is
frequently the cause of home-canned goods spoiling, because some of the
fruit is almost sure to be overripe, and that means that fermentation
or mould will set in, in a short time, and ruin the entire boiling.
After wiping and labelling the jars, they must be kept in a cool, dark
place. We have a big cupboard at the back of the outside section of the
cellar, where all such goods are kept. Begin with asparagus, which is
best packed into jars filled with salt and water, and cooked in a steam
boiler for an hour and a half. Peas are shelled, and about two quarts
of the hulls and a sprig of mint are boiled in four quarts of water for
thirty minutes, then strained, the water brought to the boiling-point,
salted to taste, and the peas boiled slowly in it for thirty minutes.
Fill the jars to overflowing, and screw down the tops at once. Beans
must be strung and sliced and boiled in salted water, as for table,
or packed in two-inch layers, with a sprinkling of salt between, in a
stone crock. Put a plate or a stone on top of the beans to keep them
under the brine, and cover closely. When wanted for use, soak in fresh
cold water overnight and cook in the usual way.
Gathering and packing is of the greatest importance in keeping fruit.
The most favourable time is when the fruit has attained its full growth
and colour, which is several days before it is quite ripe. All fruit
should be handled with the greatest care; the slightest bruise or
scratch starts a condition which will develop rot. A high extension
ladder, a high step-ladder, and an agile boy are the requisites for
picking. When possible, choose a bright, cool day, have the boxes and
barrels ready, and press all help into service. Before allowing anyone
to pick apples, teach him how. Take the apple lightly, turn it slowly,
and press upward, so that the stem is severed from the branch, not from
fruit.
Whoever does the climbing should discard shoes, for they are apt to
injure the bark of the tree, which always causes later troubles.
A shallow bag, slung across the body sling-fashion, is the best
receptacle for the picker to use, because it leaves both hands free.
The work is greatly facilitated if two people can pick, two pack,
and a fifth take the fruit from the pickers to the packers. Have two
bag-slings for each person picking, so that the collector can take the
full one and hand up an empty one, which saves emptying the fruit into
a basket.