Page:Once a Week Jul - Dec 1859.pdf/50

9, 1859.] and dairy; to which were afterwards added a barrel on wheels to receive soap-suds and other slops at back doors for the liquid manure pit; a garden-engine of large powers, and a frame and hand-glasses for the kitchen-garden. About a third part of these implements were necessary for the mere gardening which we attempted so unprofitably before we had a labourer on the premises.

I am not going to speak of our dairy affairs now; I will do so hereafter; but my present subject is the tillage of the soil: and I will therefore say no more here about cows than that we began with one, and ﬁnding that we could keep two for almost as little trouble as one-—the stable and the man being provided—I rented another half acre adjoining my ﬁeld, at £1 15s. a-year, and kept two cows, thus securing a supply of milk for the whole year. We produce food enough for about a cow and a half, besides vegetables and fruit for the household, and ﬁnd it answer to buy the requisite addition to the winter food, as I will explain at another time.

Here, then, we were at the outset, with simply our cow-stable, pig-house, and tanks, and an acre and a quarter of  ground  on  which  to  work,  to produce  food  for  a cow  and  pig,  besides  household vegetables; fettered also  with  the  necessity,  that, on account  of  the  view  from  the  windows,  at  least three quarters  of  an  acre  must  remain  in  grass,  the most expensive  of  all  conditions. We pared  off the corners,  and  laid  them  into  the  arable  part, in the  first  instance,  so  as  to  leave  the  grassy  area just three  quarters  of  an  acre. To finish  with the pasture  first,  the  treatment  it  requires  is  this: Before the  winter  rains  we  give  the  grass  a good dressing of  guano  every  alternate  year,  or  of  bones broken, but  not  to  powder,  every  third  year. Early in  winter  the  whole  is  strewn  with  manure from the  tank,  and  a compost  heap  we  have  in  a hidden  corner  of  the  new  half  acre. At the  end of February  this  is  raked  away,  and  the  meadow is bush-harrowed. A month later  it  is  well  rolled and weeded,  if  any  noxious  weeds,  such  as  oxeye daisies, or  bishop’s  weed,  are  found  rooted  in  it. If any  moss  appears  after  long  rains  it  is  treated with lime. This care  is  well  repaid  by  the  beauty of the  surface  and  the  value  of  the  grass. The little spot  is  conspicuous  for  its  greenness  when all the  rest  of  the  valley  is  of  a uniform  hay  colour; and  there  is  no  hay  in  the  neighbourhood  to  compare with  ours. The cows  eat  off  the  first  growth in April. It is  then  shut  up  for  six  weeks  or  so for  hay,  and  is  mown  towards  the  end  of  June, when it  yields  nearly  three  tons  to  the  acre. We do not  exhaust  the  ground  by  mowing  it  twice, but allow  the  cows  to  feed  it  pretty  close  till November. After two  winters  we  found  that  the anxiety of  keeping  such  hay  stacked  in  a rainy climate was  more  than  the  thing  was  worth; and I therefore built  a hay-house,  and  was  only  sorry that I had  put  it  off  so  long. Knowing what  the plague of  rats  is  in  such  buildings,  I adopted  the only perfect  security — that  of  using  such  materials as no  vermin  can  penetrate. The floor  was  flagged as carefully  as  a kitchen-floor,  and  slate  stones went deep  into  the  ground  below  the  flags. A few years later,  when  a winter  inundation  penetrated every place  in  the  levels  of  the  valley,  and  wetted our hay, I granted a raised wooden ﬂoor to the entreaties of our farm-man: and there our hay and straw keep perfectly well in all kinds of winters.

Hay, however, is an extravagant kind of food for cows; and ours have it only for variety, and as a resource when other things fail, and when they calve, or happen to be ill. Our main dependence is on roots and vegetables. As this was nearly a new idea in the neighbourhood, we were prodigiously ridiculed, till our success induced ﬁrst respect and then imitation. It was a current maxim, that it takes three acres of land to feed a cow; and this may be very true in the hill pastures, which are mossy and untended. Our milk would cost us sixpence a quart, it was said-—we were starving our poor cow—we were petting our cow, so that she was like a spoiled child—such were the remarks till events silenced them, and people came to see how we arranged our ground, so as to get such crops out of it. We constantly gave in explanation the current rule: “the more manure, the more green crops; the more green crops, the more stock; the more stock, the more manure.” And by  degrees  the  true  principle  of  stall-feeding and spade-tillage  became  clear  to  all  inquirers.

Our soil  is  light, — not  very  deep  (lying  above slaty-stone)  sufficiently  fertile,  and  easily  treated, but so  stony  in  parts  as  to  dismay  a labourer from a day  or  sand  district. The neighbours advised my  man  to  cover  up  the  stones,  and think no  more  of  them: but  we  concluded  that  it would  be  better  to  make  use  of  some  of  them. We dug  deep  where  the  garden  paths  were  to  be, and filled  in  the  stones,  so  as  to  make  drains  of all  the  garden  walks. Others went  to  mend  the occupation-road which  runs  along  the  field,  and through the  half-acre. On the  south  side,  and in the  half-acre,  there  is  scarcely  a stone,  and  the tillage is  perfectly  easy. Our way  is  to  dig  two spits deep,  straight  down,  manure  richly,  and  leave abundant space  between  both  the  plants  and  the rows. Hence our  fine  roots,  and  our  weight  of produce.

I need say  nothing  of  our  garden  tillage,  except that, with  the  exception  of  winter  potatoes,  we obtain  an  abundant  supply  of  vegetables  for  a household  of  four  persons,  and  their  occasional guests. All common  fruits  become  more  plentiful every year. This being  understood,  we  are  here concerned only  with  the  food  for  the  cows  and  pig. In summer,  we  sow  cabbage-seed, — being  careful about the  kind,  as  the  common  cow-cabbage  spoils the milk  and  butter. A kind between  the  Ham and Victoria  cabbage  is  by  the  Norfolk  people  considered the  best. The young  plants  are  pricked out in  early  autumn,  some  hundreds  per  week  for six weeks,  to  secure  a succession  next  year. They should be  eighteen  inches  apart,  in  rows  a yard apart: and if  they  can  be  allowed  to  keep  their places till  they  weigh  ten  or  twelve  pounds  apiece, they of  course  afford  a great  bulk  of  food  for  the animals. Anywhere above  four  pounds  is,  however, worth  the  ground. The rows  being  placed so wide  apart  is  to  allow  of  the  sowing  of  roots between them.

In April  and  May  we  sow  turnips  (Swedes  especially), carrots  (particularly  Belgian),  and  mangold