Графични страници
PDF файл
ePub

Small, of Scotland, a plow-maker, after thirty years' experimenting and improving, so far succeeded in perfecting his plow that many are still in use in the most highly cultivated districts of Scotland. At the beginning of this century, Thomas Jefferson made some improvements in plows, having had several made from patterns of his own construction, which he used with satisfactory results on his estates in Albemarle and Redford counties, Va. Contemporaneous with the plow of Jefferson was that of Charles Newbold, of N. J., who invented the first cast-iron plow ever made in America. After expending a fortune of $30,000 in the vain effort to introduce his plows, he was obliged to abandon the project, the farmers having imbibed the strange idea that an iron plow poisoned the land, destroyed its fertility, and promoted the growth of rocks. Succeeding this event, a number of inventions were made and patents issued, but none succeeded in gaining public favor until 1820, when Mr. Jethro Wood succeeded in driving out the clumsy plows of the olden time.

Many present will remember the great wooden plow exhibited at the Centennial Exposition which Daniel Webster made and used with so much satisfaction. When we reflect that this monster of awkwardness, called by courtesy a plow, represented the matured thought and genius of the foremost American statesman of his time, is it any wonder that the world made slow progress in the past? With the perfected plow came better yields and larger areas of cultivated land, these in turn necessitating better and more rapid means of gathering the golden grain; hence the mower, reaper and binder. A crude machine for gathering grain, propelled by oxen, used in the extensive lowlands of Gaul is described by Pliny the elder, A. D. 23. An account of the same machine is also given by Palladius, an eastern prelate, born A. D. 391, showing that it must have been in use for centuries. In 1785, the first mechanical reaping machine appeared in Great Britain. In 1787, William Pitt Pendeford constructed another machine, propelled by a horse. The first patent for a reaping machine in England was obtained by Joseph Boyce in 1799. Various parties obtained letters patent upon reaping machines in subsequent years, but none were successful until 1822, when Mr. Henry Ogle constructed a machine of great simplicity, capable of cutting fourteen acres per day. Some workingmen threatening to kill the manufacturer, the project failed. The first practical reaper in America was constructed by Obed Hussey in 1833, and contained nearly all the essential features of those now in use. From that time they have advanced to their present high degree of perfection, and are now indispensable to the American farmer.

Though indispensable, they are, nevertheless, even when cared for in the best manner, attended with great cost, which, of course, is largely increased by improper care when in use, and by their being left unsheltered when out of use. The waste attending this system of management accounts, I apprehend in large degree, for the indifferent success of many of our farmers.

Within the recollection of many of us who still call ourselves young, fifty dollars would equip the average farm with tools. Now, ten times that amount would scarcely suffice for the same farm. We pay to the manufacturers of farm implements in our own village over four hundred thousand dollars annually. This is a type of the numberless cities and towns employed in this same line of business all over our broad country. American farmers cannot pay less than one hundred million dollars annually for agricultural implements. Much of this machinery is at best short-lived. Especially is this true of

mowers, reapers and binders, which are complex in their character and nice in their adjustment, requiring in their successful use constant and careful attention. The cost of our farm machinery is largely increased by manufacturer and user being too widely separated. They should be brought nearer together, thus dispensing with at least some of our jobbers and middlemen. If this could be accomplished, the profits of the manufacturer would not be diminished, while those of the farmer would be largely increased. An objection urged by the manufacturer to this proposition is this: He says the farmer never buys a tool till ready to use it, and without middlemen his warehouses would be overcrowded at one season of the year and the carrying capacity of the railroads at another. Thus it becomes imperative that he have agencies established to which he can be moving his goods constantly. This difficulty could, I think, be surmounted by organized action on the part of the farmers in establishing agencies of their own. Let no one suppose that I speak of the manufacturers in a spirit of enmity. They are our allies and friends. We can do nothing without them. We live in a time characterized by sharp competition. The moving force of the age is the "survival of the fittest." If we hold our supremacy in the markets of the world, it will be by reason of our superior genius in developing yet more perfect farm implements, more thorough and skillful cultivation of the soil and more scientific treatment of domestic animals.

We are as yet upon the threshold of the possibilities of agriculture, and the most enthusiastic dreamer has caught but glimpses of the fields to be explored and the heights to be attained.

LAND DRAINAGE.

BY G. S. RAWSON.

(Read at the Manchester Institute.)

The own

Nature is more impartial in her gifts than we are apt to admit. ers of high, dry, self-draining farms sometimes feel that they have a decided advantage over those who are compelled to drain, but often this advantage is chiefly imaginary. Farms that have a clay subsoil and need occasional tiling are apt to have better timber, to be better for fruit, to receive more lasting benefit from fertilizers, be less affected by drouths, grow better grass and be permanently the most productive lands to be found.

A depression once drained becomes a mine of wealth.

It has collected the riches from surrounding hills for ages. Its dark surface is the accumulation of centuries of vegetable decay, ready to yield up its treasures to intelligent management.

What lands need drainage?

All clay land or land with a clay subsoil.

All depressions that are too retentive of water.

All springy or wet land.

If water has no other exit than evaporation it means the loss of a great amount of heat needed for plant growth.

The heat required to evaporate 100 pounds of water equals that produced by the combustion of 6 pounds of coal.

If, during a season, 24 inches of rain fell, it would require as much heat to evaporate the water from one acre as the combustion of fifty tons of coal would produce.

Unless in muck where the amount of water is considerable, and the value of the land, after drainage, not great; or where the water can be conducted along the borders of a field, so as not to seriously interfere with cultivation, and be of use to stock, or serve as a discharge place for tile, I would never have an open ditch. It is inconvenient, unsightly, and in the end more expensive than tiling. In underdraining I would never use any other material than well burnt clay tile, of good quality; and unless they must be laid near the surface, with great danger of frost, I would not pay the extra cost for hard burnt fire clay tile over the common kind. Lay none that are not reasonably free from lime, and have not a clear, ringing sound when struck together. I relaid some tile last year of the ordinary kind that had been laid 18 years, but were too near the surface, and I did not find one that was not to all appearance as good as when first laid. We too often make the mistake of not laying them deep enough. We fail to take into account the settling of the surface by the decay of the vegetable mold, brought about by drawing off the surplus water. Besides, we detract from their usefulness in laying too near the surface, by narrowing the limit from which they draw. I would endeavor to lay them, if possible, 2 feet deep in the lowest spot, and I wouldn't care much to exceed it, preferring to use the extra outlay it would require to lay them deeper in having more branches. As to the size of the tile-the amount of surface to be drained, the kind of soil, and the amount of fall must determine. It is not sufficient that they will simply remove the surplus water, they must remove it quickly enough so that there will be no resulting injury to crops. The work of excavating, laying the tile, and filling the ditch is about the same with small tile that it would be with those a few sizes larger, while their capacity is many times less. The cases are exceedingly rare where I would lay anything less than 3 inch. Perhaps for short side branches, where there is but little water, 24 inch will sometimes do. In commencing the work of laying tile, or rather as preliminary thereto, the first thing to be obtained is a good and sufficient outlet. Without this much of the work will be in vain, as the water will fill back, and without a current obstructions will gather and remain fixed in the tile.

With a good outlet you will be surprised at their efficiency, even where there is but little fall above. Indeed, I have known drains to work well where a long distance next to the outlet was a dead level, with sufficient fall above to give it force. A river with but few curves and a fall of three inches to the mile, moves at the rate of about three miles an hour, while the Amazon, for 700 miles from its mouth, has a fall of only 12 feet. Of course, with large tile, as in large rivers, there is less friction proportionately than in small ones. The best time for making a drain is when there is just water enough in the soil to make a small trickling stream, by which you can easily determine the grade. Fortunately this is when it can be most easily dug and also interferes least with other farm work. I prefer that the land to be drained should be in sod. Stake out the course of the main drain through the lowest place in the depression and for some distance beyond, running laterals wherever needed, invariably having them discharge into the main drain in the direction of down stream. Where a considerable portion of the water comes from some side hill, it is well to cut it off by running a branch along the base of the hill rather than in the

direction of its summit. With a good team, plow three furrows into one another in the same direction, bringing the last furrow in line with the stakes and making it as wide and deep as the strength of the team will allow. Should any trees stand near the line cut them down, for their roots will be sure to disturb the drain. Beginning the digging at the lower end of the ditch, put the top soil on one side and the subsoil on the other. Where the fall is not great, try to get the grade uniform from the source to the outlet. In no case have any sags or depressions in the bottom when ready for the tile. After completing the digging with the tile spade I work up the channel with the tile scoop, an implement with a long concave blade about the width of the tile to be laid. This forms a narrow groove, confining the water and thus showing quite accurately the fall, as well as making a smooth, narrow bed for the tile. As to laying the tile, trust no stranger in the matter. There is but one way to guarantee a success-do it yourself. If the work is well done, it need be done but once during your lifetime, at least. If any portion is defective it may cause the whole job to be a failure. Lay the first tile at the upper end of the ditch, closing the entrance with a flat stone. The usual method is to continue the work by backing down stream, following up with the tile, fitting the bed for the tile with some instrument like a trowel. I prefer to stand upon the tile, laying them ahead of me as I move down stream, having the tile scoop near at hand with which to trim and fit a perfect bed for the tile a number of feet in advance. By standing upon them you can use the feet for driving or pressing them into line, leaving them as solid as the foundation upon which they rest, where they will not be moved by filling the ditch or by the settling of the soil around them. Some object to covering the tile with straw. I have always practiced it, thinking that it kept the dirt from being carried into the tile by the water, until it had time to settle firmly around them, and have never experienced any objection to its use, though I would make the covering light and would prefer marsh hay to straw, if easily obtained. First fill in with the subsoil, and when filled to the bottom of the furrow you can generally finish with the plow without danger of misplacing the tile, simply turning back the furrow. The question might be asked, would you ever fill up any portion of the ditch with gravel or any other porous soil, to facilitate the flow of water to the tile? I have never seen the necessity for so doing. I have seen a surface stream sufficiently large to run four-inch tile nearly to their full capacity, soak away and disappear upon clay in a distance of three rods, after flowing upon a surface beneath which tile were laid. I have said nothing about laying tile where the bottom is muck or quicksand. Having no experience in such cases, I leave it for the discussion which may follow.

Having used my allotted time I will conclude by reaffirming the necessity of sufficient drainage. How many farms there are of which at least 10 per cent is dead capital from lack of drainage. No other business under the sun could long stand this loss. Thorough drainage admits of earlier cultivation in the spring, or after heavy rains; renders soil that would otherwise be soggy, hard, or lumpy, mealy, porous, and manageable; makes it possible to run machinery or wagons over the land without miring; makes cultivation uniform; admits the air, carrying moisture in time of drouth, as well as the aerial gases to decompose the organic matter and fit it to be food for plants, lessening the evaporation and raising the temperature of the soil; changes that sour, cold plague-spot upon your farm from a malignant germinater of disease and death to a place easily worked, deep in fertility, and rich in the elements of plantgrowth.

RECLAIMING SWAMP LANDS.

BY C. B. CHARLES.

(Read at the Paw Paw Institute.)

The Surveyor General, in his report of 1815, describes our grand peninsula as being "with few exceptions, low, wet land, with a thick undergrowth of bushes, intermixed with bad marshes. Many chains of lakes occur, with extensive marshes about them, covered with a species of pine called tamarack, the water from six inches to three feet deep. The space between these lakes and swamps is with few exceptions a poor, barren, sandy land, upon which but little vegetation grows, except small and scrubby oaks. To all appearances not more than one acre in one hundred, or perhaps one thousand, will ever admit of cultivation. A land only fit for wolves, wild Indians, mosquitoes, rattlesnakes and ague," and although his description is not exactly in accordance with the developed facts, our swamps and waste places have until quite recently been considered very much too extensive. There are, indeed, very few farms that have not more or less of swamp or lowland.

Our earliest settlers invariably shunned these low places, choosing for their future homes the higher and usually poorer sections. Their clearings have extended to the swamps and there stopped, as if afraid to venture into the wilderness. They considered them worthless.

Of late years man is beginning to see that for centuries these hills and highlands have been sending down, with the annual rainfall, their stores of rich treasure to be deposited in these swamps and mire-holes. They have become veritable banks of deposit on which the owner may draw without fear of defaulting presidents or absconding cashiers.

The question with me to-day is, "How may we manage these places to get the best results from their stored fertility?" The whole secret lies in drainage.

Without a thorough system of drainage you can do nothing. Of the merits of the various kinds of drains I will say little except that each swamp must have a system peculiar to itself, adapted to its wants. The late Mr. Chandler had a system of fifty-two miles of open drains on his farm near Lansing. Near Saginaw dikes were made by digging ditches with dredges and putting the dirt all one side to keep out the higher water of the river near by, and steam engines pump the water from out the ditches. Our swamp is muck three feet deep or more, and contains no springs. Open ditches two feet deep, twenty rods apart, will drain it dry enough for practical purposes. The outlet for these laterals is four feet deep and has a fall of six feet per mile. Of course springy land must have more ditches and probably of a different kind, but the test will be that you have no trouble with standing water.

Many people shun the swamps now on account of the first cost of drainage. Professional ditchers do charge high prices, but any man can dig a ditch, and if you work with them, showing them how, you will have no difficulty in throwing out a rod of ditch four feet wide and two feet deep each hour for each man. This winter, while men are seeking work, is a splendid time to drain our swamps; and remember that swamps can be more easily subdued that have been drained several years previously and pastured close by sheep or cattle. The muck begins to decay and settle rapidly as soon as the water level is lowered. It loses its acid properties and becomes ready for civilized

« ПредишнаНапред »