TALKS ON MANURES A SERIES OF FAMILIAR AND PRACTICAL TALKS BETWEEN THE AUTHOR AND THE DEACON, THE DOCTOR, AND OTHER NEIGHBORS, ON THE WHOLE SUBJECT TEXT

“That is an argument,” said the Deacon, “against your plan of piling and fermenting manure.” “Not at all,” I replied; “it is a strong reason for not letting manure lie under the eaves of an unspouted building--especially _good_ manure, that is made from rich food. The better the manure, the more it will lose from bad management. I have never recommended any one to pile their manure where it would receive from ten to twenty times as much water as would fall on the surface of the heap.” “But you do recommend piling manure and fermenting it in the open air and keeping the top flat, so that it will catch all the rain, and I think your heaps must sometimes get pretty well soaked.” “Soaking the heap of manure,” I replied, “does not wash out any of its soluble matter, _provided_ you carry the matter no further than the point of saturation. The water may, and doubtless does, wash out the soluble matter from some portions of the manure, but if the water does not filter through the heap, but is all absorbed by the manure, there is no loss. It is when the water passes through the heap that it runs away with our soluble nitrogenous and mineral matter, and with any ready formed ammonia it may find in the manure.” How to keep cows tied up in the barn, and at the same time save all the urine, is one of the most difficult problems I have to deal with in the management of manure on my farm. The best plan I have yet tried is, to throw horse-manure, or sheep-manure, back of the cows, where it will receive and absorb the urine. The plan works well, but it is a question of labor, and the answer will depend on the arrangement of the buildings. If the horses are kept near the cows, it will be little trouble to throw the horse-litter, every day, under or back of the cows. In my own case, my cows are kept in a basement, with a tight barn-floor overhead. When this barn-floor is occupied with sheep, we keep them well-bedded with straw, and it is an easy matter to throw this soiled bedding down to the cow-stable below, where it is used to absorb the urine of the cows, and is then wheeled out to the manure-heap in the yard. At other times, we use dry earth as an absorbent. CHAPTER XXII. MANURE ON DAIRY-FARMS. Farms devoted principally to dairying ought to be richer and more productive than farms largely devoted to the production of grain. Nearly all the produce of the farm is used to feed the cows, and little is sold but milk, or cheese, or butter. When butter alone is sold, there ought to be no loss of fertilizing matter--as pure butter or oil contains no nitrogen, phosphoric acid, or potash. It contains nothing but carbonaceous matter, which can be removed from the farm without detriment. And even in the case of milk, or cheese, the advantage is all on the side of the dairyman, as compared with the grain-grower. A dollar’s worth of milk or cheese removes far less nitrogen, phosphoric acid, and potash, than a dollar’s worth of wheat or other grain. Five hundred lbs. of cheese contains about 25 lbs. of nitrogen, and 20 lbs. of mineral matter. A cow that would make this amount of cheese would eat not less than six tons of hay, or its equivalent in grass or grain, in a year. And this amount of food, supposing it to be half clover and half ordinary meadow-hay, would contain 240 lbs. of nitrogen and 810 lbs. of mineral matter. In other words, a cow eats 240 lbs. of nitrogen, and 25 lbs. are removed in the cheese, or not quite 10½ per cent, and of mineral matter not quite 2½ per cent is removed. If it takes three acres to produce this amount of food, there will be 8⅓ lbs. of nitrogen removed by the cheese, per acre, while 30 bushels of wheat would remove in the grain 32 lbs. of nitrogen, and 10 to 15 lbs. in the straw. So that a crop of wheat removes from five to six times as much nitrogen per acre as a crop of cheese; and the removal of mineral matter in cheese is quite insignificant as compared with the amount removed in a crop of wheat or corn. If our grain-growing farmers can keep up the fertility of their land, as they undoubtedly can, the dairymen ought to be making theirs richer and more productive every year. “All that is quite true,” said the Doctor, “and yet from what I have seen and heard, the farms in the dairy districts, do not, as a rule, show any rapid improvement. In fact, we hear it often alleged that the soil is becoming exhausted of phosphates, and that the quantity and quality of the grass is deteriorating.” “There may be some truth in this,” said I, “and yet I will hazard the prediction that in no other branch of agriculture shall we witness a more decided improvement during the next twenty-five years than on farms largely devoted to the dairy. Grain-growing farmers, like our friend the Deacon, here, who sells his grain and never brings home a load of manure, and rarely buys even a ton of bran to feed to stock, and who sells more or less hay, must certainly be impoverishing their soils of phosphates much more rapidly than the dairyman who consumes nearly all his produce on the farm, and sells little except milk, butter, cheese, young calves, and old cows.” “Bones had a wonderful effect,” said the Doctor, “on the old pastures in the dairy district of Cheshire in England.” “Undoubtedly,” I replied, “and so they will here, and so would well-rotted manure. There is nothing in this fact to prove that dairying specially robs the soil of phosphates. It is not phosphates that the dairyman needs so much as richer manure.” “What would you add to the manure to make it richer?” asked the Doctor. “Nitrogen, phosphoric acid, and potash,” I replied. “But how?” asked the Deacon. “I suppose,” said the Doctor, “by buying guano and the German potash salts.” “That would be a good plan,” said I; “but I would do it by buying bran, mill-feed, brewer’s-grains, malt-combs, corn-meal, oil-cake, or whatever was best and cheapest in proportion to value. Bran or mill-feed can often be bought at a price at which it will pay to use it freely for manure. A few tons of bran worked into a pile of cow-dung would warm it up and add considerably to its value. It would supply the nitrogen, phosphoric acid, and potash, in which ordinary manure is deficient. In short, it would convert poor manure into rich manure.” “Well, well,” exclaimed the Deacon, “I knew you talked of mixing dried-blood and bone-dust with your manure, but I did not think you would advocate anything quite so extravagant as taking good, wholesome bran and spout-feed and throwing it on to your manure-pile.” “Why, Deacon,” said I, “we do it every day. I am putting about a ton of spout-feed, malt-combs and corn-meal each week into my manure-pile, and that is the reason why it ferments so readily even in the winter. It converts my poor manure into good, rich, well-decomposed dung, one load of which is worth three loads of your long, strawy manure.” “Do you not wet it and let it ferment before putting it in the pile?” “No, Deacon,” said I, “I feed the bran, malt-combs and corn-meal to the cows, pigs, and sheep, and let them do the mixing. They work it up fine, moisten it, break up the particles, take out the carbonaceous matter, which we do not need for manure, and the cows and sheep and horses mix it up thoroughly with the hay, straw, and corn-stalks, leaving the whole in just the right condition to put into a pile to ferment or to apply directly to the land.” “Oh! I see,” said the Deacon, “I did not think you used bran for manure.” “Yes, I do, Deacon,” said I, “but I use it for food _first_, and this is precisely what I would urge you and all others to do. I feel sure that our dairymen can well afford to buy more mill-feed, corn-meal, oil-cake, etc., and mix it with their cow-dung--or rather, let the cows do the mixing.” LETTER FROM THE HON. HARRIS LEWIS. I wrote to the Hon. Harris Lewis, the well-known dairyman of Herkimer Co., N.Y., asking him some questions in regard to making and managing manure on dairy farms. The questions will be understood from the answers. He writes as follows: “My Friend Harris.--This being the first leisure time I have had since the receipt of your last letter, I devote it to answering your questions: “1st. I have no manure cellar. “I bed my cows with dry basswood sawdust, saving all the liquid manure, keeping the cows clean, and the stable odors down to a tolerable degree. This bedding breaks up the tenacity of the cow-manure, rendering it as easy to pulverize and manage as clear horse-manure. I would say it is just lovely to bed cows with dry basswood sawdust. This manure, if left in a large pile, will ferment and burn like horse-manure in about 10 days. Hence I draw it out as made where I desire to use it, leaving it in small heaps, convenient to spread. “My pigs and calves are bedded with straw, and this is piled and rotted before using. “I use most of my manure on grass land, and mangels, some on corn and potatoes; but it pays me best, when in proper condition, to apply all I do not need for mangels, on meadow and pasture. “Forty loads, or about 18 to 20 cords is a homœopathic dose for an acre, and this quantity, or more, applied once in three years to grass land, agrees with it first rate. “The land where I grow mangels gets about this dose every year. “I would say that my up-land meadows have been mown twice each year for a great many years. “I have been using refuse salt from Syracuse, on my mangels, at the rate of about six bushels per acre, applied broadcast in two applications. My hen-manure is pulverized, and sifted through a common coal sieve. The fine I use for dusting the mangels after they have been singled out, and the lumps, if any, are used to warm up the red peppers. “I have sometimes mixed my hen-manure with dry muck, in the proportion of one bushel of hen-manure to 10 of muck, and received a profit from it too big to tell of, on corn, and on mangels. “I have sprinkled the refuse salt on my cow-stable floors sometimes, but where all the liquid is saved, I think we have salt enough for most crops. “I have abandoned the use of plaster on my pastures for the reason that milk produced on green-clover is not so good as that produced on the grasses proper. I use all the wood ashes I can get, on my mangels as a duster, and consider their value greater than the burners do who sell them to me for 15 cts. a bushel. I have never used much lime, and have not received the expected benefits from its use so far. But wood ashes agree with my land as well as manure does. The last question you ask, but one, is this: ‘What is the usual plan of managing manure in the dairy districts?’ The usual method is to cut holes in the sides of the stable, about every ten feet along the whole length of the barn behind the cows, and pitch the manure out through these holes, under the eaves of the barn, where it remains until too much in the way, when it is drawn out and commonly applied to grass land in lumps as big as your head. This practice is getting out of fashion a little now, but nearly one-half of all the cow-manure made in Herkimer Co. is lost, wasted. “Your last question, ‘What improvement would you suggest,’ I answer by saying it is of no use to make any to these men, it would be wasted like their manure. “The market value of manure in this county is 50 cts. per big load, or about one dollar per cord.” “That is a capital letter,” said the Deacon. “It is right to the point, and no nonsense about it.” “He must make a good deal of manure,” said the Doctor, “to be able to use 40 loads to the acre on his meadows and pastures once in three years, and the same quantity every year on his field of mangel-wurzel.” “That is precisely what I have been contending for,” I replied; “the dairymen _can_ make large quantities of manure if they make an effort to do it, and their farms ought to be constantly improving. Two crops of hay on the same meadow, each year, will enable a farmer to keep a large herd of cows, and make a great quantity of manure--and when you have once got the manure, there is no difficulty in keeping up and increasing the productiveness of the land.” HOW TO MAKE MORE AND BETTER MANURE ON DAIRY FARMS. “You are right,” said the Doctor, “in saying that there is no difficulty in keeping up and increasing the productiveness of our dairy farms, when you have once got plenty of manure--but the difficulty is to get a good supply of manure to start with.” This is true, and it is comparatively slow work to bring up a farm, unless you have plenty of capital and can buy all the artificial manure you want. By the free use of artificial manures, you could make a farm very productive in one or two years. But the slower and cheaper method will be the one adopted by most of our young and intelligent dairymen. Few of us are born with silver spoons in our mouths. We have to earn our money before we can spend it, and we are none the worse for the discipline. Suppose a young man has a farm of 100 acres, devoted principally to dairying. Some of the land lies on a creek or river, while other portions are higher and drier. In the spring of the year, a stream of water runs through a part of the farm from the adjoining hills down to the creek or river. The farm now supports ten head of cows, three horses, half a dozen sheep, and a few pigs. The land is worth $75 per acre, but does not pay the interest on half that sum. It is getting worse instead of better. Weeds are multiplying, and the more valuable grasses are dying out. What is to be done? In the first place, let it be distinctly understood that the land is _not_ exhausted. As I have before said, the productiveness of a farm does not depend so much on the absolute amount of plant-food which the soil contains, as on the amount of plant-food which is immediately available for the use of the plants. An acre of land that produces half a ton of hay, may contain as much plant-food as an acre that produces three tons of hay. In the one case the plant-food is locked up in such a form that the crops cannot absorb it, while in the other it is in an available condition. I have no doubt there are fields on the farm I am alluding to, that contain 3,000 lbs. of nitrogen, and an equal amount of phosphoric acid, per acre, in the first six inches of the surface soil. This is as much nitrogen as is contained in 100 tons of meadow-hay, and more phosphoric acid than is contained in 350 tons of meadow-hay. These are the two ingredients on which the fertility of our farms mainly depend. And yet there are soils containing this quantity of plant-food that do not produce more than half a ton of hay per acre. In some fields, or parts of fields, the land is wet and the plants cannot take up the food, even while an abundance of it is within reach. The remedy in this case is under-draining. On other fields, the plant-food is locked up in insoluble combinations. In this case we must plow up the soil, pulverize it, and expose it to the oxygen of the atmosphere. We must treat the soil as my mother used to tell me to treat my coffee, when I complained that it was not sweet enough. “I put plenty of sugar in,” she said, “and if you will stir it up, the coffee will be sweeter.” The sugar lay undissolved at the bottom of the cup; and so it is with many of our soils. There is plenty of plant-food in them, but it needs stirring up. They contain, it may be, 3,000 lbs. of nitrogen, and other plant-food in still greater proportion, and we are only getting a crop that contains 18 lbs. of nitrogen a year, and of this probably the rain supplies 9 lbs. Let us stir up the soil and see if we cannot set 100 lbs. of this 3,000 lbs. of nitrogen free, and get three tons of hay per acre instead of half a ton. There are men who own a large amount of valuable property in vacant city lots, who do not get enough from them to pay their taxes. If they would sell half of them, and put buildings on the other half, they might soon have a handsome income. And so it is with many farmers. They have the elements of 100 tons of hay lying dormant in every acre of their land, while they are content to receive half a ton a year. They have property enough, but it is unproductive, while they pay high taxes for the privilege of holding it, and high wages for the pleasure of boarding two or three hired men. We have, say, 3,000 lbs. of nitrogen locked up in each acre of our soil, and we get 8 or 10 lbs. every year in rain and dew, and yet, practically, all that we want, to make our farms highly productive, is 100 lbs. of nitrogen per acre per annum. And furthermore, it should be remembered, that to keep our farms rich, after we have once got them rich, it is not necessary to develope this amount of nitrogen from the soil every year. In the case of clover-hay, the entire loss of nitrogen in the animal and in the milk would not exceed 15 per cent, so that, when we feed out 100 lbs. of nitrogen, we have 85 lbs. left in the manure. We want to develope 100 lbs. of nitrogen in the soil, to enable us to raise a good crop to start with, and when this is once done, an annual development of 15 lbs. per acre in addition to the manure, would keep up the productiveness of the soil. Is it not worth while, therefore, to make an earnest effort to get started?--to get 100 lbs. of nitrogen in the most available condition in the soil? As I said before, this is practically all that is needed to give us large crops. This amount of nitrogen represents about twelve tons of average barn-yard manure--that is to say, twelve tons contains 100 lbs. of nitrogen. But in point of fact it is not in an immediately available condition. It would probably take at least two years before all the nitrogen it contains would be given up to the plants. We want, therefore, in order to give us a good start, 24 tons of barn-yard manure on every acre of land. How to get this is the great problem which our young dairy farmer has to solve. In the grain-growing districts we get it in part by summer-fallowing, and I believe the dairyman might often do the same thing with advantage. A thorough summer-fallow would not only clean the land, but would render some of the latent plant-food available. This will be organized in the next crop, and when the dairyman has once got the plant-food, he has decidedly the advantage over the grain-growing farmer in his ability to retain it. He need not lose over 16 per cent a year of nitrogen, and not one per cent _of the other elements of plant-food_. The land lying on the borders of the creek could be greatly benefited by cutting surface ditches to let off the water; and later, probably it will be found that a few underdrains can be put in to advantage. These alluvial soils on the borders of creeks and rivers are grand sources of nitrogen and other plant-food. I do not know the fact, but it is quite probable that the meadows which Harris Lewis mows twice a year, are on the banks of the river, and are perhaps flooded in the spring. But, be this as it may, there is a field on the farm I am alluding to, lying on the creek, which now produces a bountiful growth of weeds, rushes, and coarse grasses, which I am sure could easily be made to produce great crops of hay. The creek overflows in the spring, and the water lies on some of the lower parts of the field until it is evaporated. A few ditches would allow all the water to pass off, and this alone would be a great improvement. If the field was flooded in May or June, and thoroughly cultivated and harrowed, the sod would be sufficiently rotted to plow again in August. Then a thorough harrowing, rolling, and cultivating, would make it as mellow as a garden, and it could be seeded down with timothy and other good grasses the last of August, or beginning of September, and produce a good crop of hay the next year. Or, if thought better, it might be sown to rye and seeded down with it.