Chapter XI: Preface: To the First Edition (11)

Our business is, not to quarrel with the farmer, but to suggest a better plan for his garden. We saw the plan stated some years ago; where, we have forgotten, but think well of it. It is simply this: let the garden be an oblong—say three times as long as it is broad—and cultivate it with the _plow_. Instead of having beds, let all seeds be planted in rows running the whole length of the garden. For example, begin with one row of beets—or more if wanted; next a row or rows of carrots, parsnips, cabbages, potatoes, corn, and all about three feet apart. The same system should be followed for small fruits—currants, gooseberries, strawberries, raspberries, etc.—and it will have this advantage over common gardens, that the bushes will have sun and air on all sides, and be more fruitful and more healthy for it. The whole garden, thus arranged, can be kept in order with very little labor. A single-horse plow will dress between the rows of the whole garden in a very little time and save all hand-hoeing. The hand-weeding in the row may be performed by women or children.

In large towns ground is scarce and labor abundant. Gardens, therefore, are properly laid out for economy of space. In the country the reverse is true; land is abundant but labor scarce and dear; of course gardens should be laid out not to save room, but to economize labor. The plan suggested will save labor, improve the garden, and take from the wife the drudgery of the spade and hoe.

EARLY DAYS OF SPRING.

If the soil be thrown up during the open weather into ridges, an immense number of insects will be unburrowed and destroyed; stiff clayey soils will be rendered more crumbling and mellow by exposure to frost. If advantage is taken of the weather to haul manure, let it be stacked up, and a little earth thrown over it, else the volatile and most valuable portions will escape. Ashes may be spread over the garden; a small portion of refuse salt will benefit the ground, and may be sown now. Clear the ground of all vines, stalks, haulm. If you have flowering bulbs, cover slightly with coarse manure—they will not be so much tried by the changes of temperature and moisture, and will flower stronger for it. Bright, dry days afford a fine time for going to the woods and cutting poles for your beans, stakes for your trees and dahlias, brush for peas, etc. While you are about it, collect moss from old logs, and put away in the barn or shed to cover the ground in summer where roses and shrubs have been newly set out, and require to be kept moist. If not done before, put two or three forks full of coarse green manure about tender shrubs—Noisette and China roses. Freezing and thawing at the crown of the roots, destroys them oftener than anything else.

On mild days when the earth is open, sow lettuce seed in a warm corner, beat it gently with the back of the shovel, and cover it slightly with fine earth or old crumbling manure. You will have lettuce ten days earlier for your trouble. Pepper-grass and radishes may be sowed in like manner.

☞ Let alone the knife and saw. Your vines and trees will not be benefited by any pruning at this season.

PARLOR FLOWERS.

Water freely such as are in pots, while in blossom. The flower stalks will be apt to shoot up taller and weaker than in the garden, and will require rods to support them. Let the rod be thrust down about _two inches_ from the centre of the flower, and attach the flower stem to it by one or two ligaments. Flowers in small stove rooms can be kept in health with extreme difficulty. The heat forces their growth, or injures the leaves. They should be washed off once a week (either on a mild day out of doors, or in a warm room within, if the weather be severe), as the dust settles upon the leaf, and stops up the stomata (mouths) by which the leaf perspires and breathes. If green _aphides_ infest them, put a pan of coals beneath the stand, and throw on a half-handful of coarse tobacco. In half an hour every insect will tumble off. Let such as lie on the surface of the earth be removed or crushed, as they will else revive. Plants should have _fresh air_ every day.

A SALT RECIPE.

There is a great fashion, now-a-days, in all papers, to set forth useful recipes for every imaginable purpose. Every newspaper has its weekly budget of recipes. Our magazines have a page of original recipes; and, before long, why should not the _North American Review_, or the _Edinburgh Review_ come out with their quarterly bill of fare reciped in full? So practical is our nineteenth century, that our literary men and women feel it to be a solemn duty to indite novel recipes for cooking, seasoning, removing stains, curing diseases, etc.; and why not? If one can invent a sonnet, an elegy, or worse yet, a poem, and thus draw people’s brains a wool-gathering in the regions of imagination, ought they not to atone for their license by an invention equally substantial for the body? Miss Leslie writes a beautiful story, and a recipe for manipulating lobsters. Miss Martineau writes travels, political economies and suggestions on plum pudding. Mrs. Sigourney tunes her lyre with a hand most redolent of pies, cakes and gingerbread. Such is the aspect of culinary affairs, and the rights of women, that the day seems at hand when no learning will sustain a man, and no accomplishments a woman, who does not understand the art and mystery of cooking. It will be the duty of some future Heyne to give accurate recipes for all the feasts of Homer’s heroes, the ingredients of all the Horacian drinking-bouts—the dishes of Virgil’s fine fellows, as well as the minor matters of armor, language, manners, and customs; and a good lexicon, Hebrew, Greek, or Latin, must contain clearly written recipes for all the dishes used by the people whose language it sets forth. We have been led into this grand prairie of reflections by a recipe found in a country paper which unquestionably is _salty_.

“INDIAN BAKED PUDDING.—Indian pudding is good and wholesome, baked. Scald a quart of milk, and stir in seven table spoonfuls of salt, a tea-cupful of molasses, and a great spoonful of ginger, or sifted cinnamon. Bake three or four hours. If you want whey you must be sure and pour in a little cold milk, after it is all mixed. Try it.”

If Misses Leslie, Childs, etc., refuse to mother such a recipe, with _no_ Indian meal in it, but _seven_ mortal spoonfuls of salt, then we will consider it as emanating from Lot’s wife. We are sure if one should eat many such puddings, he would speedily come to her estate.

CULTURE OF CELERY.

We know of no vegetable which requires more care and skill in its cultivation, from beginning to end, than celery. An inexperiened hand will be apt to fail in planting his seed, fail in preparing the trenches, and fail in earthing up the plants and bleaching them. And yet, celery is so generally a favorite that every family desires it, and every gardener is willing to cultivate it.

SEED SOWING.—The seed is exceedingly slow in germination, and, if not assisted artificially, will lie three and sometimes four weeks without sprouting. We soak the seed in water, (a solution of oxalic acid would be much better), for twenty-four hours: turn off the water, and then add and stir up a few handfuls of sand, well moistened, and let the seed stand in a stove room or other warm place, for two or three days. The sand will now be nearly dry; if it be not, add dry sand to it until it is perfectly powdery, and can be sown without falling in lumps. Besides hastening its germination, mixing the seed with sand enables the operator to sow it with greater facility and evenness. Select a _shaded_ spot, let the earth be rich, rather inclined to moisture, and perfectly mellow. Sow the seed broadcast, and cover _very thinly_ by sifting over it finely pulverized mold. Beat the bed gently with the back of the spade to settle the earth firmly about the seed. Don’t fear that the seed will be troubled by beating; every seed should have the earth pressed to it by a smart stroke of the hoe, hand, spade, or by the pressure of a roller. If the weather is exceedingly warm and dry, cover your seed-bed with matting or old carpet, to retain the moisture. When up let them be well weeded, until they are six inches high, when they are to be removed to the trench for blanching.

FIRST TRANSPLANTING.—The process here detailed may be wholly omitted by those who are _obliged_ to economize time and labor. But those who wish to do the very best that can be done—who wish to avoid spindling, weak plants, and secure strong and vigorous ones—transplant their celery to a level bed of very rich soil, placing the plants four inches apart every way. They are cultivated here for about five weeks, when they will have attained a robust habit, or, technically, they will have became _stocky_—for which purpose they were thus transplanted.

CELERY TRENCHES.—Dig your trenches about eighteen inches wide, and one foot deep, laying a shovelful of dirt alternately on each side of the trench, that it may be conveniently drawn in on both sides when you _earth up_. If you are favored with a very deep and rich loamy soil, such as often abounds in Western gardens, you will need little or no manure. But usually about four inches of _vegetable mold_ and very _thoroughly rotted_ manure, should be placed in the bottom of the trench and gently spaded in. No part of the culture is more critical than manuring. If the soil is slow, poor, and stingy, the celery will be dwarfish, tough and strong. On the other hand, if you employ new, rank, fiery manure, although you will have a vigorous growth, the stalks will be hollow, watery, coarse and flavorless. Let the manure be very thoroughly decayed and mixed half and half with leaf or vegetable mold.

Set the plants five inches apart, water them freely with a fine rosed watering pot, and, if the sun is fierce, cover the trenches daily from ten A.M. till evening with boards. In about a week they will begin to grow and will need no more shading.

Let them alone, except to weed, until the plants are from twelve to fifteen inches high—at which time they are to be earthed up.

EARTHING UP.—In dry weather, with a short, hand-hoe, draw in the earth gently from each side and bring it up carefully to the stalk. The soil must be kept _out of the_ plant, and it is best for the first and perhaps the second time of earthing, to gather up the leaves in the left hand, and holding them together, to draw the earth about them. Fill in about once in two weeks, and _always when the plants are dry_. When the trench is full, the process is still to go on, and at the close of the season your plants will be exactly reversed—instead of standing in a trench they will top out from a high ridge.

SAVING CELERY IN WINTER.—Three ways may be mentioned. Letting it stand in the trench—in which case it should be covered with long straw and boards so laid over it that it will be protected from the _wet_, which is supposed to be more prejudicial to it than mere cold.

The Boston market gardeners dig it late in autumn, trim off the fibrous roots, cut off the top, lay it for two days in an airy shed, turning it, say twice a day, and then pack it in layers of perfectly _dry_ sand, in a barrel. After laying two days to air it goes into the barrel much wilted, but regains its plumpness, and comes out as fresh as from the trench.

Lastly, it may be put in rows on the cellar bottom, without trimming, and earth heaped up about it. Set a plank at an angle of forty-five degrees and bank up the earth against it, set a row of roots and cover them with dirt, then another row and so on.

_Solid_ celery is not a particular variety—any celery is solid when properly grown—and if grown too rankly the most _solid_ celery in the world will be hollow.

We have seen it recommended to water the trenches once or twice during the season with a weak brine of salt and water. Besides the fertilizing effect of salt, it will have the effect of retaining moisture in the soil, and what is of yet more moment, it destroys the parasitical fungus (_Puccinca Heraclei_) which attacks and rusts the plant, and probably would, also, guard it against a maggot which is apt to infest and very much injure it. There is an insect, which, in very dry weather, is apt to sting the leaf and cause it to wilt. While the dew is on in the morning, sift lime over the plants once or twice, and it will check the fly.

If any think these directions too minute and the process vexatious, they are at liberty to try a cheaper method—and may, once in a while, succeed. But a certain crop, year by year, cannot be expected without exact and very careful cultivation. We have learned this by sorrowful experience.

The main crop of celery need not be placed in the trenches until the middle of July or the first of August. It’s greatest growth will be in the fall months.

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SEEDLING TREES.—Many trees which are entirely hardy when grown, are very tender during the first and second winters. Cover them with straw, refuse garden gatherings, leaves, etc. Sometimes it is best to raise them and _lay them in by the heels_, by which those gardeners designate the operation of laying trees in trenches or excavations, and covering the roots and a considerable portion of the stems. This will not be extra labor in all cases when the young trees are to be reset, at any rate, the second year in nursery rows.

CULTURE OF PIE-PLANT.

Beginners should in all cases, if possible, obtain a supply of plants, from a proved sort, by dividing the root. Raising from seed is an after, and an amateur practice. The first object with every man is to supply his family with this esculent, and not to experiment with new sorts. Let him buy or beg from garden or nursery, enough buds to establish a bed, of some kind already known to be good.

The _best_ season of the year for dividing the root is in the spring; the next best is in late autumn; and the worst in midsummer—as we have abundantly ascertained by experiment. The reason is plain. Like bulbs, and tubers, the root of the pie-plant stores up in itself during one season, a supply of organizable matter enough to enable it to start off the next season, without any dependence upon the soil. Dahlias, potatoes, onions, turnips, cabbages, etc., it is well known, are able to grow for a considerable time, in the spring, without any connection with the soil; being sustained by that supply which they had treasured up within themselves the previous autumn. When this is exhausted, they will die, if they have not been put in connection with food from without. When pie-plant is divided in the spring, it is full of the material of life, and a bud cut off from the main root with a portion of the root attached, has a supply of food until new roots are emitted, which in good soil and weather will be in about a week. There is the same vitality in autumn, and the only reason why it is not so good for transplanting as spring, is the risk that the buds and roots will rot off during the winter. A uniform winter will scarcely injure one in a hundred, but constant changes, freezing and thawing, will weaken, if not destroy many of them. When, however, it is necessary to divide and transplant in the fall, cover the bed full four inches deep with coarse, strong manure. Although great care will enable one to transplant a section of the root in midsummer, yet we have found that when no more attention is paid than in spring, nine plants are lost out of ten. The reason is obvious. There is no reserved treasure of sap in the root in summer, such as gives it vitality in spring or autumn. If for any reason we _must_ take up a root in summer, let every possible fibre be saved, the plant well watered and sheltered until it begins to grow again.

RAISING FROM SEED.—The origination of new varieties of fruits, flowers and esculent vegetables is one of the greatest rewards of gardening. Almost every seed of the pie-plant will produce a variety. We have thought ourselves repaid for trouble if one in fifty seedling plants were worth saving. It requires a full two years’ trial to improve a sort. Of fifty plants, say twenty-five may be rejected peremptorily the first season, the petioles being mere wires. Of the other twenty-five, one or two will give great promise, and the others will be doubtful. Let them be transplanted in the spring of the second season, into very mellow, rich, deep loam, full three feet apart every way, and here they may stand until the owner is fully satisfied, by the trial of one or more seasons, which are good and which inferior. In marking seedling plants, the cultivator should bear in mind that there are _two_ kinds required, viz. a very early sort, and one for the later and main supply. If a plant has small stalks, and is _late_ too, reject it of course. If it be very _early_, it may be valuable even if quite small. Some sorts are fit for plucking five or six weeks before others; we have a variety which comes forward almost the moment the frost leaves the ground in the spring, or in warm spells in winter.

In selecting a late sort from your seedlings, several qualities must be consulted. The plant should manifest an indisposition to go to seed; should be apt to throw out an _abundance_ of leaves, to supply those taken off; the petioles should be large; the meat rich and substantial. There is great difference between one sort and another in the amount of sugar required, in the delicacy of flavor, and in the property of stewing to a pulp, without wasting away.

A good variety of pie-plant, then, should be a vigorous grower, prolific, large in the stalk, not apt to flower, of a sprightly acid without any earthy or woody taste, not stewing away more than one-third when cooked, and not requiring too much sugar.

We have observed in our trials that seedlings having smooth leaves, with the upper surface varnished and glossy, are seldom good; while every plant which we have thought worth keeping, had the upper surface of its leaves of a deep, dull, lack-lustre green.

FORMATION OF A BED.—Select a strong and rich loam. Let it be spaded full two feet deep. If the subsoil has never been worked, and is clay, or gravel, a large supply of old manure should be mixed with it. Our working-method is this: Mark off the square, begin on one side, lay out a full spadeful of the top-soil clear across the bed; lay four or five inches of manure in the trench, and then spade it down a full twelve inches deep; beginning again by the side of the first trench, put the top-soil of the second into the first; add manure and spade as before; and so across the bed. The surface-soil thrown out of the first trench may be wheeled down and put into the _last_ one. This process will leave the bed much higher than it was; let it stand one or two weeks to settle. If the bed is prepared in autumn it will be better, and in the spring it may be half-spaded again before planting.

Mark out, by line, rows three feet apart, and set your plants in the rows three feet from plant to plant, if of the large kind, and two feet, if of the small. Very large varieties require four feet every way. Tho buds should be left just below the surface of the soil.

AFTER CULTURE.—Through the summer keep the surface mellow and free from weeds. In the fall of the year, when the leaves show signs of falling, form a compost heap of fine charcoal, if you can get it from blacksmith’s or elsewhere, vegetable mold, ashes, and very old manure. Spread and spade in a good coat of this, spading lightly near to the plants and deeply between them. When frost destroys the tops wholly, cover the bed with coarse, strong manure about four inches deep, smooth it down, and let it remain thus. The next spring stir the surface smartly with a rake, and no further care will be required except to pluck out any weeds that grow through the summer.

GATHERING.—Leaves are constantly springing from the centre. Of course the full-grown ones will be on the outside. These should be harvested, leaving the inside ones to mature. By going regularly over your bed, and taking in turn the outside leaves, a bed may be used till July without the slightest injury. Other fruit, after that time, usually displaces pie-plant and leaves it to rest the remainder of the year. The leaf-stalks should not be _cut_ off. Slide the hand down as near as possible to the root, and give the stalk a backward and sidewise wrench and it will be detached at a joint or articulation, and no stump will be left to rot and injure the root—we usually cut off the leaves on the spot, leaving them about the root, both for shade to the ground and for manure.

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PRESERVE YOUR POT-PLANTS.—We warn ladies having pot-plants designed for winter-wear, to be prudent _beforehand_, or some frosty night will cut every tender plant left out, and _then_ prudence will be good for nothing. Every one who pretends to keep parlor plants should own a _thermometer_. If at sundown or at nine o’clock it stands anywhere near forty degrees, your plants are in danger. Sometimes it will fall, in one night, from fifty degrees to below thirty-two degrees, which last is the freezing point.

SUN-FLOWER SEED.

To some extent this is likely to become a profitable crop. Medium lands will yield, on an average, fifty bushels; while first-rate lands will yield from seventy to a hundred bushels.

MODE OF CULTIVATION.—The ground is prepared in all respects as for a corn crop, and the seed sown in drills four feet apart—one plant to every eighteen inches in the drill. It is to be plowed and tended in all respects like a crop of corn.

HARVESTING.—As the heads ripen, they are gathered, laid on a barn floor and threshed with a flail. The seed shells very easily.

USE.—The seed may be employed in fattening hogs, feeding poultry, etc., and for this last purpose it is better than grain. But the seed is more valuable at the _oil-mill_ than elsewhere. It will yield a gallon to the bushel without trouble; and by careful working, more than this. Hemp yields one and a fourth gallons to the bushel, and flax-seed one and a half by ordinary pressure; but two gallons under the hydraulic press.

The oil has, as yet, no established market price. It will range from seventy cents to a dollar, according as its value shall be established as an article for lamps and for painters’ use. But at seventy cents a gallon for oil, the seed would command fifty-five cents a bushel, which is a much higher price than can be had for corn.

It is stated, but upon how sufficient proof we know not, that sun-flower oil is excellent for burning in lamps. It has also been tried by our painters to some extent; and for _inside_ work, it is said to be as good as linseed oil. Mr. Hannaman, who has kindly put us in possession of these facts, says, that the oil resembles an _animal_, rather than a vegetable oil; that it has not the _varnish_ properties of the linseed oil. We suppose by varnish is meant, the albumen and mucilage which are found in vegetable oils. The following analysis of _hemp-seed_, and _flax-seed_, or as it is called in England lint or linseed, will show the proportions of various ingredients in one hundred parts.

Hemp-seed. Linseed.
(Bucholz.) (Leo Meier.)
Oil, 19.1 11.3
Husk, etc. 38.3 44.4
Woody fibre and starch, 5.0 1.5
Sugar, etc. 1.6 10.8
Gum, 9.0 7.1
Soluble albumen (Casein?) 24.7 15.1
Insoluble do — 3.7
Wax and resin, 1.6 3.1
Loss, 0.7 3.0
---- ----
100 100

The existence of impurities in oil, such as mucilage, albumen, gum, etc., which increase its value to the painter, diminishes its value for the _lamp_, since these substances crust or cloy the wick, and prevent a clear flame. All oils may, therefore, the less excellent they are for painting, be regarded as the more valuable for burning. _Rape-seed_ is extensively raised in Europe, chiefly in Flanders, for its oil, and is much used for burning. Ten quarts may be extracted from a bushel of seed. We append a table representing the richness of various seeds, etc., in oil.

Oil per cent.
Linseed (flax) 11 to 22
Hemp-seed, 14 to 25
Rape-seed, 40 to 70
Poppy-seed, 36 to 33
White mustard-seed, 36 to 48
Black mustard-seed, 15
Swedish turnip-seed, 34
Sun-flower seed, 15
Walnut kernels 40 to 70
Hazel-nut kernels, 60
Beech-nut kernels, 15 to 17
Plum-stone do. 33
Sweet almond kernels, 40 to 54
Bitter do. do. 28 to 46

APRIL GARDEN-WORK.

Every one will now be at work in the garden. A few suggestions may make your garden better.

PLOWING GARDENS.—We do not like the practice except when the garden is large, and the owner unable to meet the expense of _spading_. But if you must plow, let that be well done. Those contemptible little one-horse plows, with which most gardens are plowed, should be discarded. The best plowing will be too shallow, but these spindling little plows, drawn by a little meagre horse, will skim over your ground, averaging from three to four inches deep, and preparing your soil to receive the utmost possible detriment from summer droughts. What chance have young roots, or the finer fibres of plants, to penetrate more than a few inches of surface-soil? Persons come to our garden and wonder why some vegetables flourish so well, while they never have luck with them, “It must be a difference of soil.” No, it is the difference of working it. Give your vegetables a chance to descend eighteen or twenty inches if they incline to it, and you will have no more trouble. A large plow should be used, and you should stand by and _see_ that it is _put in to the beam_. A garden soil is usually mellow, and a plow can go to its full depth without hurting the horses.

SPADING.—This mode of working the ground will always be employed by those ambitious of having a _first-rate_ garden. Indeed, where there is much shrubbery and permanent beds, as of asparagus, pie-plant, strawberry, and plantations of currants, raspberries, etc., spading is the only method which _can_ be employed.

SPADING SHRUBBERY.—Let very fine manure be spread about roses, honeysuckles, and ornamental shrubs (where they are not standing in a grass-lawn). Beginning at the plant, with great care turn over the soil one or two inches deep, yet so as not to injure the fibres; gradually deepen the stroke of your spade as you go out from the plant; at two feet from the shrub you may put in the spade half its depth, and at three feet to its full depth. You will of course cut many roots, but they will very soon re-form and send out fibres, and by the manure spaded in, be supplied with abundant nourishment for the season.

SPADING FLOWER BEDS.—This requires a practised hand. There is danger of wounding and displacing clumps of flower-roots, or of filling the crowns with dirt, or of leaving the surface uneven, and the edges ragged. If there is a skillful gardener to be had, hire it done, and watch while he performs, for any man who has seen a thing done in a garden once, ought to be ashamed if he cannot himself do it afterwards.

SPADING VEGETABLE BEDS.—Asparagus, pie-plant, strawberries, etc., require enriching every year, and to have the manure forked or spaded in. It is easy to perform this upon strawberries, and a spade is preferable. A three or four-pronged fork is better for asparagus and pie-plant. Be careful not to tear or cut the crowns of the plants. No material injury ensues from clipping the side fibres, _in the spring_; in summer, when a plant requires all its mouths to supply sap for its extended surface of leaf, it is not wise to cut the roots or fibres at all, but only to keep the surface mellow and friable.

DEEP SPADING.—Ames’ garden-spades measure twelve inches in length of blade. In a good soil the foot may gain one or two additional inches by a good thrust. Thus the soil is mellowed to the depth of fourteen inches. This will do very well; but if you aspire to do the very best, another course must be first pursued. The first spadeful must be thrown out, and a second depth gained, and then the top soil returned. This is comparatively slow and laborious, but it need not be done more than once in five years, and by dividing the garden into sections, and performing this _thorough-spading_ on one of the sections each year, the process will be found, practically, less burdensome than it seems to be.

GETTING POOR ON RICH LAND AND RICH ON POOR LAND.

A close observer of men and things told us the following little history, which we hope will plow very deeply into the attention of all who plow very shallow in their soils.

Two brothers settled together in —— county. One of them on a cold, ugly, clay soil, covered with black-jack oak, not one of which was large enough to make a half dozen rails. This man would never drive any but large, powerful, Conastoga horses, some seventeen hands high. He always put _three_ horses to a large plow, and plunged it in some ten inches deep. This deep plowing he invariably practised and cultivated thoroughly afterward. He raised his seventy bushels of corn to the acre.

This man had a brother about six miles off, settled on a rich White River bottom-land farm—and while a black-jack clay soil yielded seventy bushels to the acre, this fine bottom-land would not average fifty. One brother was steadily growing rich on poor land, and the other steadily growing poor on rich land.

One day the bottom-land brother came down to see the black-jack oak farmer, and they began to talk about their crops and farms, as farmers are very apt to do.

“How is it,” said the first, “that you manage on this poor soil to beat me in crops?”

They reply was “_I_ WORK _my land_.”

That was it, exactly. Some men have such rich land that they won’t _work_, it; and they never get a step beyond where they began. They rely on the _soil_, not on labor, or skill, or care. _Some men expect their_ LANDS _to work, and some men expect to_ WORK THEIR LAND;—and that is just the difference between a good and a bad farmer.

When we had written thus far, and read it to our informant, he said, “three years ago I travelled again through that section, and the only good farm I saw was this very one of which you have just written. All the others were desolate—fences down—cabins abandoned, the settlers discouraged and moved off. I thought I saw the same old stable door, hanging by one hinge, that used to disgust me ten years before; and I saw no change except for the worse in the whole county, with the single exception of this one farm.”

GETTING READY FOR WINTER.

Haul tanbark and bank up around the house to insure a warm cellar. Cellar windows should be kept open through the day, and closed after the nights begin to freeze, as late in the season as possible. See that dry walks are prepared from the house to all the out-houses. Do not be stingy of your materials; make the paths high and rounding, so as to insure dryness, especially about the barn. See that stones, gravel, or timber are laid so as to be out of the way of cattle’s feet, and just in the way of your own. We have seen swamp-barn-yards, before going into which a prudent man would choose to make his will. Mud on the shoes from roads and fields is all well enough; but mud from one’s own yards, shows that the owner has not fixed up as he ought to have done.

If your stables are old, examine the floor; or some night may let a horse through, to come out lame for life. If you have a dirt floor, see that it is carefully laid, and remember that if it be inclined either way, it should be _from_ the rack and not _toward_ it. Let your wagons, carts, plows, etc., be repaired during the fall and winter, and not be left till spring. See that your shingles are all sound on the house, barn, and shed. The leak which you have allowed to drop, drop, drop all summer has at last taken off a yard or two of plaster, and it is time now to put on a shingle or two. There is another leak or two that _must_ be stopped. That pocket of yours which has let out dime after dime for liquor, the hole getting bigger and bigger every year, now is the time to sow _it_ up, or it will rip _you_ up. A pocket is a small place, to be sure, but we have seen barns, cattle, and acre after acre slip through a hole in it which, at first, was only large enough to let sixpence through.

See that all your tools have a safe and dry standing-place; hoes, rakes, scythes, sickles, yokes, spades, shovels, chains, pins, harrows, plows, carts, and sleds, axes, mattocks, hammers, and everything, but your geese and ducks, should be kept from wet and snow.

If you have no stables for your cattle, you should have good sheds provided, opening to the south. Even when cattle are allowed to run through the stock-fields, there ought to be in some warm place an ample shed to which they can resort during wet and cold weather; and one sufficiently snug can be made without calling in the carpenter or buying lumber.

ESCULENT VEGETABLES.

We mention some of the more common kinds of garden esculent vegetables, to point out the best kinds, and give some hints for their cultivation. If more vegetables were raised and eaten in the place of meat, there would be fewer diseases, and less expense for medicine than is now the case among those who eat so heartily and liberally of the _fat_ of the land.

BEET.—The turnip-rooted blood beet should be sown for the earliest crop; the long blood beet for the late crop, and for winter use. The _blood beet_ is the proper garden beet. The _scarcity_, the sugar beets (so called), white, yellow, and red, are inferior for table use. Every year we see accounts of new varieties, which are seldom mentioned a second time, while these old standard sorts hold their own from year to year. We see people running around among their neighbors for _beet_-seed, careless whether it is early or late, coarse fleshed or fine grained, sweet or insipid. It is just as easy and cheap to have the best seed of the best kinds, as to have refuse seed of worthless kinds. Lately, a variety introduced from France, called _Bassano_, has attracted attention and commendation.[11] It is early, tender, and sweet. If you attempt to raise your own seed, let only _one_ sort stand in the garden; otherwise bees and other insects will mix them, and the purity of the variety will be lost. We very seldom see an unmixed variety in common gardens, unless seed have been bought from good seedsmen.

The best seed is a small black seed about the size of a pin head, enveloped in a ragged, rough, two or three lobed husk. Every _seeming_ seed planted, then, is a mere envelope of two or more seeds, and two or three plants come up, very much to the surprise of the inexperienced, for each husk. When a little advanced, they are to be thinned out to one in a place.

We prefer planting very early, and in rows eight inches apart and at about _one inch_ distant in the row. As the plants begin to gain size they make very delicate greens; and for this purpose are to be boiled, leaf, root, and all. Continue to thin out until one is left for every six inches for full growth.

Every year a great ado is made about monstrous beets—twenty and thirty pounders. There is no objection to these giants, unless they beget an idea that _size_ is the test of merit. For table-use, _medium sized_ fruits and vegetables are every way preferable; a beet should never be larger than a goose-egg.

It is equally foolish to suppose that large, coarse-grained vegetables, whether potatoes, beets, parsnips, ruta bagas, or anything else, are as good for stock, though not so palatable to men. To be sure they fill up. But that which is nutriment to man is nutriment to beast; a vegetable which is rank and watery is no better for my cow than for us. It is not the _bulk_ but the _quality_ that measures the fitness of articles for food.

PARSNIP.—This vegetable is, to those who are fond of it, very desirable, as coming in at a time when other things are failing. For, although the parsnip attains its size by autumn, yet its flavor seems to depend upon its receiving a pretty good frosting. It may be dug at open spells through the winter and early in the spring. It gives one of the first indications of returning warmth, and its green leaves are among the first which cheer the garden. On this account it must be dug early in the spring and housed, or it will spoil by growth.

We know of no difference in varieties. The _Guernsey_, is not a different sort from the common, but only the common sort, very highly cultivated in that island, where it sometimes grows to a length of four feet. The _hollow-crowned_ and _Siam_ are mentioned in English catalogues, as fine fleshed and flavored, but we have never been able to obtain seed of them.

The parsnip (_Pastinacea sativa_) is a native of Great Britain and is found wild by the road-sides, delighting particularly in calcareous soils. It has hitherto been supposed that the seed would not retain its germinating power more than one year, but Mr. Mendenhall states that he has raised freely from four year old seed. The parsnip is much sown as a field crop at the east, yielding 1,000 bushels, on good land, to the acre. They are invaluable both to cows and horses. The quantity and quality of milk in cows is improved; and no farmer with whom butter-making is a considerable object of interest, should be without a root crop—beet, carrot, or ruta baga.

CARROT. (_Daucus carota_).—This is a native of Great Britain. The early horn and Altringham are the best varieties sold by our seedsmen. Beside their use upon the table, they are largely and deservedly cultivated in the field for stock. A horse becomes more fond of them than of oats, and they do not, like the potato, require boiling before feeding out. A thousand bushels may be raised to the acre. The premium of the New York Agricultural Society for the year 1844, was to a crop of 1,059 bushels the acre. The seed should be new each year, as it will not come well even the second year, and not at all if kept yet longer.

RADISH.—Every garden has its bed of radishes, and they are among the first spring gifts. They will grow in any soil, but not in all equally well. A mellow sandy loam is best; or rather that soil is best which will grow them the quickest. If they are a long time in growing, they are tough and stringy. It is said that a compost of the following materials will produce them very early and finely. Take equal parts of buckwheat bran and fresh horse-dung, dig them in plentifully into the soil where you intend to sow. Within two days a plentiful crop of toadstools will start up. Spade them under, and sow your seed, and the radishes will come forward rapidly, and be tender and free from worms.

The _short-top scarlet_, is the best for spring planting. It is so named, because, from its rapid growth the top is yet small when the root is fit for the table. There is a white and red turnip-rooted variety, also good for spring use. The turnip-rooted kinds have not only the shape, but something of the sweetness and flavor of the turnip, and are by some preferred to all others. For summer planting, there is a yellow turnip-rooted sort and the summer white. For fall and early winter, the white and black Spanish are planted. When radishes are sown broadcast, it must be very thinly, for if at all crowded they run to top, and refuse to form edible roots. For our own use, we sow on the edges of beds, devoted to onions, beets, etc., and thrust each seed down with the finger.

The radish (_Raphanus sativus_) is a native of China, and was introduced to England before 1584.

SALSIFY, OR VEGETABLE OYSTER.—We esteem this to be a much better root for table use than either the parsnip or carrot. It is cultivated in all respects as these crops are. Some have been skeptical as to their possessing an oyster flavor. They seldom attain the true taste until, like the parsnip, they have been well frosted. But if dug up during spells in winter and early in the spring, and cooked by an orthodox formula, they are strikingly like the oyster. We have just consulted the oracle of our kitchen, and give forth the following method of cooking it: First, oblige your husband to raise a good supply of them. When you have obtained them, scrape off the outside skin—cut the root lengthwise into thin slices—put them into a spider and just cover with hot water. Let them boil until a fork will pass through them easily. Without turning off the water, season them with butter, pepper, and salt, and sprinkle in a little flour—enough to thicken the liquor slightly. Then eat them.

The success of this gustatory deception depends, more than anything else, upon the skill in seasoning. If well done they are not merely an apology, but they are a very excellent substitute for the shell-fish himself; a thousand times better than pickled can-oysters—those arrant libels upon all that is dear in the remembrance of a live oyster.

Every one may save seed for himself, as it will not, if well cultivated, degenerate. It is a biennial, and roots may either be set out, or left standing where they were planted. When the seed begins to feather out it must be immediately gathered, or like the dandelion or thistle, it will be blown away by the wind. This vegetable should be much more extensively cultivated than it is.

BEANS.—There are three kinds—English dwarf; kidney dwarf or string, and the pole beans. The first kind, so far as our experience has gone, are coarser than the others, and, in our hot and dry summers, are very difficult to raise.

Of kidney or bush beans, there is a long catalogue of sorts. The _Mohawk_ is good for its hardiness, enduring spring frosts with comparative impunity. The _red-speckled valentine_ is highly commended. But after a trial of some twenty kinds, we are entirely contented with one—the _China red-eye_. It is early, hardy, very prolific, and well flavored.

Of the pole beans, one sort, the _Lima_, might supersede all others were it a little earlier. It is immensely prolific, its flavor unrivalled, and nearly the same in the dry bean as when cooked in its green state, a quality which has never, we believe, been found in any other variety. To supply the deficiency of this variety in earliness, we know of none equal to the _Horticultural_. With these two kinds one has no need of any other. Pole beans will not bear frost, and are among the last seeds to be planted, seldom before the last of April. The bush-bean may precede them a fortnight.

The English dwarf (_Vicia faba_) is a native of Egypt; but has been cultivated in England from time immemorial, and, it is supposed, was introduced by the Romans.

The kidney dwarf (_Phaseolus vulgaris_) is a native of India, and was introduced into England about the year 1597.

The pole bean (_Phaseolus multifloris_) is a native of South America, and was introduced to England in 1633.

Pole beans are not strictly annuals. In a climate where the winter does not destroy them they bear again the second year, and we believe yet longer. Gov. Pinney, of Liberia, on the African coast, stated in a lecture, speaking of the vegetable productions of that region, that the bean was a permanent vine like the grape, bearing its crops from year to year without replanting. The bush bean is strictly an annual. If the pole bean were protected in the ground, or raised and put away like sweet potatoes, dahlias, etc., in the cellar and replanted in the spring it would bear again the second season. Perhaps an earlier crop of beans might thus be secured.

The bean crop, by field culture, is not to be overlooked. Great quantities of dried beans are consumed by families, by the army and in the navy, and they always bear a good price, when they are well grown and well cured. They are excellent for sheep, not from their fattening properties, but for improving their fleece. Analysis has shown them to be rich in those properties which are “wool-gathering.”

[11] A new variety called the _Bassano_ has been recently
introduced into France, and extensively cultivated; and it
is said to be found in all the markets from Venice to Genoa,
in the month of June. It is remarkable for the form of the
root, which is flattened like a turnip. The skin is red, the
flesh white, veined with rose. It is very tender, very
delicate, preserving its rose colored rings after cooking,
and from two to two and a half inches in diameter. This
description is from the _Bon Jardinier_ for 1841. The
edition for 1842 states that this variety is highly esteemed
in the north of Italy, and that it is, in fact, one of the
best kinds for the table.—_Hovey’s Magazine._

FIELD ROOT CROPS.

From mid-winter, and especially _just before_ spring opens, beets, carrots, parsnips, potatoes, ruta baga, and mangel wurtzel are of the highest utility. After months of dry fodder, and of slops thickened with corn-meal, cattle need—their stomach, their blood need—a change of diet; and none can be better than roots. At the East it is no longer a debatable question—root crops are as regularly laid in as grain or grass crops. The chief difficulty at the East, in introducing “new-fangled notions,” arises from the regular routine habits of farmers and their settled aversion to change from old ways. Very little of this spirit exists at the West. There the very essence of life is _change_. The population have broken up from old homesteads, moved off from old States, abandoned the comforts and settled life of long tilled agricultural districts—to come into a new country, where they _have_ to practise new ways, live differently, and labor by new methods; and, by consequence, the farming community of the West are remarkably free to meet and adopt agricultural improvements. But the difficulty lies in a different direction. The farmers have large farms—are ambitious of large crops, large herds of cattle, large droves of hogs, and of a style of husbandry which brings in a large pile, and all at once; so that the idea of _good_ farming is _large_ farming. Many a sturdy Kentuckian will very patiently plow, two or three times, his fifty or hundred acres of corn, and think nothing of it; but to put in half an acre of carrots, or beets, to weed and work, to harvest and store the vexatious little crop, this seems a piddling business. Our big prairie farmers, our heavy bottom-land farmers, our stock farmers who “hog” one or two hundred acres of corn, of their own planting or of their neighbor’s, they do not love _little_ work. We know a man who lives on thirty acres of land of about a middling quality. He winters seven cows, two horses, and two pigs. He raises corn and grass enough for his own use, and sells none. Every year he puts in about a quarter of an acre of parsnips, or ruta baga, for winter and spring fodder. His garden in summer, and his dairy all the year round, are represented in market. He probably does not receive five dollars at _once_, on any one sale, through the year. We never looked into that old chest under his bed; but we will venture much, that if the shrewd housewife would keep her eagle eyes off long enough to give us a chance, it would be found that this man has made, and laid up, more money in the last five years from his thirty acres, than any farmer about here from six times the amount. Our farmers _have not grown rich on large and careless farming; but many are growing rich on small farms and careful husbandry_.

When the dairy shall be more thought of—when wintering stock, and fattening it, shall be more carefully studied—we predict that our farmers will annually raise thousands of bushels of roots, and have capacious cellars under their barns to store them in.

CULTIVATION OF FRUIT-TREES.

We must give up thinking of _remedies_ for blights and diseases of fruit-trees and seek after _preventives_. Amputation may limit its ravages; but surgery is not a remedy, but a resource after remedies fail. We must, it seems to us, look for a preventive in a wiser system of fruit cultivation. To this subject we shall now speak.

The effect of cultivation in changing the habits of plants is familiar to all. Incident to this artificial condition of the plant, there will be new diseases, vegetable vices, which, as they result from cultivation, must be regarded in every perfect system of cultivation.