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

nitrogen, applied in each year, being eighty-seven pounds per acre. As I said before, the wheat in 1879 had to me a ragged look. It was thin on the ground. There were not plants enough to take up and evaporate the large amount of water which fell during the wet season. Such a condition of things rarely occurs in this country. We sow timothy with our winter wheat, in the autumn, and red clover in the spring. After the wheat is harvested, we frequently have a heavy growth of clover in the autumn. In such circumstances I believe there would be comparatively little loss of nitrogen. In the summer-fallow experiments, which have now been continued for twenty-seven years, there has been a great loss of nitrogen. The same remarks apply to this case. No one ever advocates summer-fallowing land every other year, and sowing nothing but wheat. When we summer-fallow a piece of land for wheat, we seed it down with grass and clover. There is, as a rule, very little loss of nitrogen by drainage while the wheat is growing on the ground, but after the wheat is cut, the grass and clover are pretty sure to take up all the available nitrogen within the range of their roots. This summer-fallow experiment, instead of affording an argument against the use of summer-fallowing, is an argument in its favor. The summer-fallow, by exposing the soil to the decomposing influences of the atmosphere, converts more or less of the inert nitrogenous organic matter into ammonia and nitric acid. This is precisely what a farmer wants. It is just what the wheat crop needs. But we must be very careful, when we render the nitrogen soluble, to have some plant ready to take it up, and not let it be washed out of the soil during the winter and early spring. We have much poor land in the United States, and an immense area of good land. The poor land will be used to grow timber, or be improved by converting more or less of it, gradually, into pasture, and stocking it with sheep and cattle. The main point is, to feed the sheep or cattle with some rich nitrogenous food, such as cotton-seed cake, malt-sprouts, bran, shorts, mill-feed, refuse beans, or bean-meal made from beans injured by the weevil, or bug. In short, the owner of such land must buy such food as will furnish the most nutriment and make the richest manure at the least cost--taking both of these objects into consideration. He will also buy more or less artificial manures, to be used for the production of fodder crops, such as corn, millet, Hungarian grass, etc. and, as soon as a portion of the land can be made rich enough, he will grow more or less mangel wurzels, sugar beets, turnips, and other root crops. Superphosphate will be found admirably adapted for this purpose, and two, three, or four hundred pounds of cheap potash salts, per acre, can frequently be used on fodder crops, in connection with two or three hundred pounds of superphosphate, with considerable profit. The whole subject is well worthy of careful study. Never in the history of the world has there been a grander opportunity for the application of science to the improvement of agriculture than now. On the richer lands, the aim of the farmer will be to convert the plant food lying dormant in the soil into profitable crops. The main point is _good tillage_. In many cases weeds now run away with half our crops and all our profits. The weeds which spring up after the grain crops are harvested, are not an unmixed evil. They retain the nitrogen and other plant food, and when turned under make manure for the succeeding crops. But weeds among the growing crop are evil, and only an evil. Thorough plowing is the remedy, accompanied by drainage where needed. We have an immense number of farms on which there are both good and poor land. In such cases we must adopt a combined system. We must grow large crops on the rich land and use them, at least in part, to make manure for the poorer portions of the farm. Drainage and good tillage will convert much of our low, alluvial lands into a perfect mine of wealth. And much of our high, rolling land consists of strong loam, abounding in plant food. Such land requires little more than thorough tillage, with perhaps two hundred pounds of superphosphate per acre, to enable it to produce good grain crops. After all is said and done, farming is a business that requires not merely science, but industry, economy, and common sense. The real basis of success is faith, accompanied with good works. I cannot illustrate this better than by alluding to one of my neighbors, a strong, healthy, intelligent, observing and enterprising German, who commenced life as a farm laborer, and is to-day worth at least one hundred thousand dollars, that he has made, not by the advance of suburban property, but by farming, pure and simple. He first rented a farm, and then bought it, and in a few years he bought another farm adjoining the first one, and would to-day buy another if he found one that suited him. He has faith in farming. Some people think he “runs his land,” and, in fact, such is the case. He keeps good teams, and good plows, and good harrows, and good rollers, and good cultivators, and good grade Shorthorn cows. He acts as though he believed, as Sir John B. Lawes says, that “the soil is a mine,” out of which he digs money. He runs his land for all it is worth. He raises wheat, barley, oats, corn, potatoes, and hay, and when he can get a good price for his timothy hay, he draws it to market and sells it. Thorough tillage is the basis of his success. He is now using phosphates for wheat, and will probably increase his herd of cows and make more manure. He has great faith in manure, but acts as though he had still greater faith in good plowing, early sowing, and thorough cultivation. PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION. The Printers have got our “Talks on Manures” in type; and the publishers want a Preface. The Deacon is busy hoeing his corn; the Doctor is gone to Rice Lake, fishing; Charley is cultivating mangels; the Squire is haying, and I am here alone, with a pencil in hand and a sheet of blank paper before me. I would far rather be at work. In fact, I have only just come in from the field. Now, what shall I say? It will do no good to apologize for the deficiencies of the book. If the critics condescend to notice it at all, nothing I can say will propitiate their favor, or moderate their censure. They are an independent set of fellows! I know them well, I am an old editor myself, and nothing would please me better than to sit down and write a slashing criticism of these “Talks on Manures.” But I am denied that pleasure. The critics have the floor. All I will say here, is, that the book is what it pretends to be. Some people seem to think that the “Deacon” is a fictitious character. Nothing of the kind. He is one of the oldest farmers in town, and lives on the farm next to me. I have the very highest respect for him. I have tried to report him fully and correctly. Of my own share in the conversations I will say little, and of the Doctor’s nothing. My own views are honestly given. I hold myself responsible for them. I may contradict in one chapter what I have asserted in another. And so, probably, has the Deacon. I do not know whether this is or is not the case. I know very well that on many questions “much can be said on both sides”--and very likely the Deacon is sometimes on the south side of the fence and I on the north side; and in the next chapter you may find the Deacon on the north side, and where would you have me go, except to the south side? We cannot see both sides of the fence, if both of us walk on the same side! I fear some will be disappointed at not finding a particular subject discussed. I have talked about those things which occupy my own thoughts. There are some things not worth thinking about. There are others beyond my reach. I have said nothing about manures for cotton or for the sugar-cane--not because I feel no interest in the matter, but because I have had no experience in the cultivation of these important crops. I might have told what the crops contain, and could have given minute directions for furnishing in manure the exact quantity of plant-food which the crops remove from the soil. But I have no faith in such a system of farming. The few cotton-planters I have had the pleasure of seeing were men of education and rare ability. I cannot undertake to offer them advice. But I presume they will find that, if they desire to increase the growth of the cotton-plant, in nine cases out of ten they can do it, provided the soil is properly worked, by supplying a manure containing available nitrogen, phosphoric acid, and potash. But the _proper proportion_ of these ingredients of plant-food must be ascertained by experiment, and not from a mere analysis of the cotton-plant. I have much faith in artificial manures. They will do great things for American agriculture--directly, and indirectly. Their general use will lead to a higher system of farming--to better cultivation, more root and fodder crops, improved stock, higher feeding, and richer manure. But it has been no part of my object to unduly extol the virtues of commercial manures. That may be left to the manufacturers. My sympathy is with the farmer, and especially with the farmer of moderate means, who finds that improved farming calls for more and more capital. I would like to encourage such a man. And so, in point of fact, would the Deacon, though he often talks as though a man who tries to improve his farm will certainly come to poverty. Such men as the Deacon are useful neighbors if their doubts, and head-shakings, and shoulder-shruggings lead a young and enthusiastic farmer to put more energy, industry, and economy into his business. It is well to listen to the Deacon--to hear all his objections, and then to keep a sharp look-out for the dangers and difficulties, and _go-ahead_. TALKS ON MANURES. CHAPTER I. FARMING AS A BUSINESS. “Farming is a poor business,” said the Deacon. “Take the corn crop. Thirty bushels per acre is a fair average, worth, at 75 cents per bushel, $22.50. If we reckon that, for each bushel of corn, we get 100 lbs. of stalks, this would be a ton and a half per acre, worth at $5 per ton $7.50.” Total receipts per acre for corn crop $30 00 Expenses.--Preparing the land for the crop $5 00 Planting and seed 1 50 Cultivating, three times, twice in a row both ways 5 00 Hoeing twice 3 00 Cutting up the corn 1 50 Husking and drawing in the corn 4 00 Drawing in the stalks, etc. 1 00 Shelling, and drawing to market 2 00 Total cost of the crop ----- $23 00 ------ Profit per acre $7 00 “And from this,” said the Deacon, “we have to deduct interest on land and taxes. I tell you, farming is a poor business.” “Yes,” I replied, “_poor_ farming is a _very_ poor business. But _good_ farming, if we have good prices, is as good a business as I want, and withal as pleasant. A good farmer raises 75 bushels of corn per acre, instead of 30. He would get for his crop, including stalks $75 00 Expenses.--Preparing land for the crop $5 00 Planting and seed 1 50 Cultivating 5 00 Hoeing 3 00 Cutting up the corn 1 50 Husking and drawing 10 00 Drawing in the stalks 3 00 Shelling, etc. 6 00 ----- $35 00 ------ Profit per acre $40 00 Take another case, which actually occurred in this neighborhood. The Judge is a good farmer, and particularly successful in raising potatoes and selling them at a good price to hotels and private families. He cultivates very thoroughly, plants in hills, and puts a handful of ashes, plaster, and hen-manure, on the hill. In 1873, his crop of Peachblows was at the rate of 208 bushels per acre. Of these, 200 bushels were sold at 60 cents per bushel. There were 8 bushels of small potatoes, worth say 12½ cents per bushel, to feed out to stock. Mr. Sloe, who lives on an adjoining farm, had three acres of Peachblow potatoes the same year. The yield was 100 bushels per acre--of which 25 bushels were not large enough for market, he got 50 cents per bushel for the others. The account of the two crops stands as follows: -----------------------------------------+----------+--------- Expenses Per Acre: | Mr. Sloe | Judge. -----------------------------------------+----------+--------- Plowing, harrowing, rolling, marking, | | planting and covering | $ 8 00 | $ 8 00 Seed | 5 00 | 5 00 Hoeing, cultivating, etc. | 7 00 | 10 00 Digging | 10 00 | 10 00 +----------+--------- | 30 00 | 33 00 _Receipts Per Acre_: | | 75 bushels, @ 50c | 37 50 | 25 ” @ 12½c | 3 12 | +----------+--------- | 40 62 | 200 bushels, @ 60c | | 120 00 8 ” @ 12½c | | 1 00 | +--------- | | 121 00 +----------+--------- Profit per acre | $10 62 | $98 00 -----------------------------------------+----------+--------- Since then, Mr. Sloe has been making and using more manure, and the year before last (1875) his crop of potatoes averaged over 200 bushels per acre, and on the sandy knolls, where more manure was applied, the yield was at least 250 bushels per acre. “Nevertheless,” said the Deacon, “I do not believe in ‘high farming.’ It will not pay.” “Possibly not,” I replied. “It depends on circumstances; and these we will talk about presently. High farming aims to get large crops every year. _Good_ farming produces equally large crops per acre, but not so many of them. This is what I am trying to do on my own farm. I am aiming to get 35 bushels of wheat per acre, 80 bushels of shelled corn, 50 bushels of barley, 90 bushels of oats, 300 bushels of potatoes, and 1,200 bushels of mangel-wurzel per acre, on the average. I can see no way of paying high wages except by raising large crops _per acre_. But if I get these large crops it does not necessarily follow that I am practising ‘high farming.’” To illustrate: Suppose I should succeed in getting such crops by adopting the following plan. I have a farm of nearly 300 acres, one quarter of it being low, alluvial land, too wet for cultivation, but when drained excellent for pasturing cows or for timothy meadows. I drain this land, and after it is drained I dam up some of the streams that flow into it or through it, and irrigate wherever I can make the water flow. So much for the low land. The upland portion of the farm, containing say 200 acres, exclusive of fences, roads, buildings, garden, etc., is a naturally fertile loam, as good as the average wheat land of Western New York. But it is, or was, badly “run down.” It had been what people call “worked to death;” although, in point of fact, it had not been half-worked. Some said it was “wheated to death,” others that it had been “oated to death,” others that it had been “grassed to death,” and one man said to me, “That field has had sheep on it until they have gnawed every particle of vegetable matter out of the soil, and it will not now produce enough to pasture a flock of geese.” And he was not far from right--notwithstanding the fact that sheep are thought to be, and are, the best animals to enrich land. But let me say, in passing, that I have since raised on that same field 50 bushels of barley per acre, 33 bushels of Diehl wheat, a great crop of clover, and last year, on a part of it, over 1,000 bushels of mangel-wurzel per acre. But this is a digression. Let us carry out the illustration. What does this upland portion of the farm need? It needs underdraining, thorough cultivation, and _plenty of manure_. If I had plenty of manure, I could adopt high farming. But where am I to get plenty of manure for 200 acres of land? “Make it,” says the Deacon. Very good; but what shall I make it of? “Make it out of your straw and stalks and hay.” So I do, but all the straw and stalks and hay raised on the farm when I bought it would not make as much manure as “high farming” requires for five acres of land. And is this not true of half the farms in the United States to-day? What then, shall we do? The best thing to do, _theoretically_, is this: Any land that is producing a fair crop of grass or clover, let it lie. Pasture it or mow it for hay. If you have a field of clayey or stiff loamy land, break it up in the fall, and summer-fallow it the next year, and sow it to wheat and seed it down with clover. Let it lie two or three years in clover. Then break it up in July or August, “fall-fallow” it, and sow it with barley the next spring, and seed it down again with clover. Sandy or light land, that it will not pay to summer-fallow, should have all the manure you can make, and be plowed and planted with corn. Cultivate thoroughly, and either seed it down with the corn in August, or sow it to barley or oats next spring, and seed it down with clover. I say, _theoretically_ this is the best plan to adopt. But practically it may not be so, because it may be absolutely necessary that we should raise something that we can sell at once, and get money to live upon or pay interest and taxes. But the gentlemen who so strenuously advocate high farming, are not perhaps often troubled with considerations of this kind. Meeting them, therefore, on their own ground, I contend that in my case “high farming” would not be as profitable as the plan hinted at above. The rich alluvial low land is to be pastured or mown; the upland to be broken up only when necessary, and when it is plowed to be plowed well and worked thoroughly, and got back again into clover as soon as possible. The hay and pasture from the low land, and the clover and straw and stalks from the upland, would enable us to keep a good many cows and sheep, with more or less pigs, and there would be a big pile of manure in the yard every spring. And when this is once obtained, you can get along much more pleasantly and profitably. “But,” I may be asked, “when you have got this pile of manure can not you adopt high farming?” No. My manure pile would contain say: 60 tons of clover-hay; 20 tons wheat-straw; 25 tons oat, barley, and pea-straw; 40 tons meadow-hay; 20 tons corn-stalks; 20 tons corn, oats, and other grain; 120 tons mangel-wurzel and turnips. This would give me about 500 tons of well-rotted manure. I should want 200 tons of this for the mangels and turnips, and the 300 tons I should want to top-dress 20 acres of grass land intended for corn and potatoes the next year. My pile of manure, therefore, is all used up on 25 to 30 acres of land. In other words, I use the unsold produce of 10 acres to