THE STORY OF THE WORK OF THE LONG ISLAND RAILROAD
COMPANY AT EXPERIMENTAL STATION NUMBER ONE.

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The Lure of The Land

By

Edith Loring Fallertn
Author of “How to Make a Vegetable Garden”

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Wading River,
Long Island, N. Y.

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The History of a Market-garden and Dairy Plot
developed within eight months upon Long Island's
Idle Territory, long designated as “Scrub Oak Waste, ”
being a true story of the work carried on by The

~ Long Island Railroad Co. at Experimental Station
=~-Number One. #7 # #52 # # 8

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| LIBRARY of CONGRESS
Two Goples Recelved
APE 23 1907

Gepywight Entry
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Copyright, 1906, by
The Long Island Railroad Co.,*N. Y.

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The Desolate Burned Over “Scrub Oak Waste’’ Selected for Development

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FOREWORD # |

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HEN Mr. Ralph Peters became President of the Long Island
Railroad, his inspection tours of the Island showed him much
to be done, and most forcibly was brought before him the fact

that the vast acreage of idle land, especially in Suffolk County (the
easterly half of the Island) must be developed for its own sake and for
that of its railroad.

Many thrifty produce farms, dotted here and there in the midst of
this wilderness, together with the vast quantity and high quality of
vegetables and fruit grown in the section, showed plainly that the land
now lying idle, much of it untaxed because it had been burned over so

5

often, could be developed into market gardens, fruit orchards, vineyards
and dairies.

As “the proof of the pudding is in the eating,” and as practical
demonstration is vastly superior to written statements, the President
determined to establish Experimental Stations at various points on the
Island and give to the public the results of the work; the object being
to prove that the undeveloped territory of Long Island, for years desig-
nated as “Scrub Oak Waste” or “Pine Barrens” was maligned, and
would, when given the opportunity, produce good crops of high quality.

The work of this development was given into Mr. Fullerton’s
hands, and J, being favored beyond most women, have been his “full
partner” in the intensely interesting and valuable work.

It has included the daily records of not only ordinary farm opera-
tions, but details of victory or defeat in the fight with injurious insects

Daily Records of
maximum and mini-
mum _ temperature ;
also the rain and dew

fall

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and diseases, the quantity of crops gathered, their packing and ship-
ping; the growing of all valuable vegetables native to the temperate
zone, aS well as many from China, Japan and the Southern States, ney-
er before grown in this latitude; the receiving and entertaining of many
distinguished “Foreign” guests as well as the Island neighbors and
workers, investigators and experts in the tilling of the soil.

It includes a daily weather report, made with tested Government
thermometers and rain gauge, and conducted under Government regu-
lations; together with the photographic record of every step of the
work.

These records have at all times been open to the public and have
been inspected by eminent agriculturists in both National and State
employ, editors of many agricultural periodicals, besides laymen in
various callings.

The frequent criticism of the farm has been that a man of smal]
means could not go and do likewise. That is an unfair and unjust
criticism. We have accomplished in one year what a man may take
several in doing; there is nothing from the simple five-roomed portable
house to the 5,000 gallon tank that a man in moderate circumstances
cannot have, and if his means warrant he may have much more than
the Experimental Station possesses.

In proving that this land could raise 380 varieties of plant growth,
the income from crops was materially cut down because this meant
small plots of a variety. It has paid Long Island in giving it an agricul-
tural impetus already beneficial. It will show a man who is launching
in this new business just how much produce of each certain type was
raised on a given space; it has paved the way for him, made some of his
mistakes for him against which he will guard, and given him the en-
couragement the beginner sorely needs. Giving to the public these
proofs of the land’s fertility in two County Fairs has materially reduced

Vegetables garnered for the county fairs

the Farm’s income, for the greater part of the force was for three weeks
taken from regular operations that the showing might be as complete
and attractive as possible.
It has been said, “Oh, of course the Railroad hauls everything free
of charge for its own Farm. How can you tell what it would cost an
7

outsider?” The Farm has paid freight and express on all its products,
both to and from the Farm and knows just what it would cost another
man to do the same thing. It has lived the ‘“‘simple life” as far as was
possible with the educational work it was created to accomplish. All
supplies were as cheap as true economy would permit, for nothing is
cheap that does not wear well.

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The homestead, wash-stand and bath-room, simple yet adequate

In brief, the Farm stands to-day on its first birthday where many
men would place it in ten years or even a lifetime. That others may
do likewise, or even exceed the results in the same brief space of
time, goes without saying; that is simply a matter of personal equation.

Part I

Selection and Clearing

The start, September 1905

10

Selection and Clearing

Peters: “Find the worst 10 acres on the North Shore upon
which to establish Experimental Station No. 1.”

“Why does he want the worst piece?” I at once asked.

“Because we don’t want everyone to say, ‘O well, you have known
the Island for years and of course you could pick up the very best
piece there was anywhere.’ ”

“T see—and how are you going to prove to the dear public that
it was the worst piece after we get through with it?”

“O, I have a little scheme up my sleeve,” replied the Senior Part-
ner, and I was fully satisfied, for little schemes up his sleeve always _
grow larger as they come down and positively burst as they drop out.

We traveled the “Mountain Division,” as the North Shore branch
is lovingly termed, for many days. Our project seemed doomed, for no
one would sell a paltry ten acres; talk about hundreds or thousands or
whole farms and they might listen (but now that is all changed). Final-
ly two plots were located, one at Rocky Point of the desired area, and
one at Wading River of 18 acres. Rocky Point had some very fine stand-
ing trees, while the Wading River plot was a slice out of the most des-
olate burned over “waste” mind can picture. Scarcely a live standing
tree except along the northern boundary and the northeast corner, and
these were scarred and charred second and third growth oak and
chestnut.

Photographs were taken of both plots and submitted to the Presi-
dent. We told him that the native Long Islanders assured us that the
' Wading River plot was the “no goodest” piece of land to be found.

“How much soil will we find?” we had queried, and they replied:

“Well if you find six inches you’ll be doing well. Besides that it’s
cold and it’s sour.”

On August 19 word came that the Wading River plot had been
purchased, and on the 23rd the preliminaries had been settled and we
could start work at once.

O, days of our Forefathers! Start work in the wildernes a mile
and a half from a drink of water and as good as a thousand miles from
anything else. But there is no greater joy on earth than making some-
thing out of nothing and no keener joy to the masculine partner than
to be allowed the privilege of demonstrating that the so-called “‘waste
lands” of the Island he so dearly loves are productive.

Next came conferences in regard to clearing. One thing was cer-
tain, the money expended was as far as possible to be placed in the
hands of Long Islanders. Second, the method of clearing must be the
“most rapid possible, for Fall was coming fast and crops must be pro-
duced the following Summer.

Pet in August, 1905, the following message came from Mr.

It was not our purpose to cut off the trees and brush and allow
the stumps to remain six years to rot; nor was it our purpose to attempt
to raise partial crops in the stump land, tearing the life and heart out
of man, beast and harness, and profiting but little.

Thirdly, as the scheme of “ten acres is enotgh” for a market garden,
what should be done with the remaining eight? “Make it into an
experimental dairy and prove that this land is capable of producing
forage just as well to-day as it did a hundred years ago.”

sy this time August had passed, and we were still vainly seeking
help. Tinally, on September 1 we started out from our home town,
Huntington, with the efficient aid of one colored coachman, who decided
that it would be fun to go with us and sent word to his employer that
he would not be home that day. (This we learned later, for we would
not intentionally have robbed our neighbors.) We were armed with
an ax, bush scythe, whetstone, snathe and, last but not least, the lunch
basket. We arrived at the scene of desolation about mid-morning.
rank was started to work in the northwest corner, while we went
about among the good trees, tying white rags on the ones to be spared
the woodman’s ax.

It was evident the house plot must be at the northeast corner,
for we hold firmly to the belief that in clearing land some trees should
be left standing for shade about the home and that a person building
a house in the broiling, baking sun and then planting young trees
around it is short-sighted indeed and loses the best part of a lifetime
waiting for them to grow. As arule the farmer’s wife and the house
take the dregs of the thought and planning expended, and we made
up our minds that the feminine portion of this farmer’s household
should have some shade and beauty from the earliest days of settlement.

By careful choosing and much planning, a grove of unmutilated or
only slightly burned trees was left in front of the house site, a few
trees indicated the road, and a smaller grove to the south of the house
site gave slight protection (or I should say future promise of protec-
tion) from the hot Summer sun; it also furnished an excellent place for
locating the chicken house and yard.

The next day we succeeded in getting four men, two colored and
two white: Frank and his friend Steve, while the others came from
Huntington and Wading River, respectively. It was an interesting day,
while two lunch baskets replaced the one of the day previous. Was
this pioneering?

“Frank, get in here with that bush scythe and trim out this plot
where the house is to go,” said the Senior Partner.

“Yas, sir,” said Frank, whose smile I am sure will never come off
as long as his facial elasticity remains.

A few strokes and the exclamation, “Golly, dis year sweet fern
and huckleberry am hard cuttin’.”

“Well, suppose you sharpen the scythe up and see how she goes.”

“All right, Boss, speck dat mought be a good idea.”

“Say, there, George, what are you doing cutting down trees like

12

that; didn’t I tell you not to touch anything until I gave the word, that
tree was part of the drive and the only chestnut I had; all right”—as
a dubious expression came over his face—‘you get to work trimming up
these felled trees and cutting what is good into cord wood.”

And then we sat down together and wept over our lost chestnut.

“Never mind, you know a cherry tree would be much better than
a chestnut,” I said.

- “Well, maybe it would, but I wanted that chestnut.”

“Took at Steve, does he think this is Broadway, he’s wearing
gloves and, my gracious, patent leathers also! Great woodmen these.
No wonder Westerners call it the effete East.”

“Yes, but look at the Captain, he can everlastingly cord wood, and
no lost motion.”

The next day there was added to our “gang” “Bijah” and “Toot-
sie” and “Rayme,” who was familiarly known as the “Pahson,” while
a few more individuals of colorless character but strong on complexion
completed the “gang.”

Their dinner was a sumptuous meal: coffee, boiled in true wood-
man fashion, sandwiches galore, bananas and cake.

They decided staying right there and clearing up the whole ten
acres was just what they were looking for; that coincided with our
desires, so they remained.

We found that as evening approached the “call of the curbstone”
and street lamp was upon them, so they decided to walk to the “Port,”
as Port Jefferson is fondly termed. This they did, covering the twelve
miles on the railroad tracks in due and ancient form, and the return
twelve miles was negotiated by dawn. Next day work was not so
brisk, but it was some time before we discovered the reason.

But there was “a grouch on” and complaints started.

“Mis’r Fullerton, we all ain’t gittin’ ’nough to eat. Dis year
san’wich diet ain’t no food fo’ a working man.”

“Well boys why don’t you appoint a cook and caterer, surely one
of you can get up a meal. You have talked enough about being good
axmen, you ought to know how to live out of doors.”

So the “Pahson” was made chef. Next day a sumptuous meal was
in readiness at noon, in fact a trifle before, soup, meat-stew, succotash,
pie and cake. The usual result of a hearty midday meal was soon
visible, each man wanted to lie down and go to sleep.

Then and there we held a conference. The Islanders must be re-
placed by the manual mainstay of civilization; the sons of Sunny Italy
must be secured. In the mean time it was decided to remove the stumps
by dynamite, as trying to yank them out by pullers or by mattock and
plow was both slow and brutal; as for the ordinary custom of allowing
nature to work six years at the stumps and gradually eliminate them
in part by decay was not worthy of consideration.

Dynamiter Kissam of Huntington was engaged to do the blowing.
He is a man of calm and serene temperament, steady and careful at
work, and to be fully trusted. With the approach of his coming, the

13

Manual mainstays of civilization

“up sleeve” scheme appeared. The editors of all the big New York and
Brooklyn daily papers and many editors of the prominent magazines
were to be invited to the spot to see the first stump blown out.

A good dozen of them made the trip on September 6 and Dyna-
miter Kissam greeted them with a salute. The first stump was blown,
shattered to bits and the ground pulverized, leaving a hole thirty
inches deep and, marvelous to relate, every bit of it beautiful rich
brown soil with no sign of sand or gravel. The six-inch theory went
up with the stump.

It was an interested and interesting party of men. Some of them
decided to travel as far northward as they could go, others retreated
in utter confusion, while some remained the safe 200 feet from the
explosion.

The universal verdict, however, was that they “would not under-
take the task of making that wilderness into a market garden for any
money,” and “we certainly had picked out the worst piece of land ever.”
They wished us joy of the experiment.

By this time the “gang” of woodmen had increased to eight, and
some of their experiences were very funny.

When the charges had been placed and the usual warning signal,
“fire!” given, both negroes and white men would fall over themselves
to get out of the county; which was decidedly unnecessary for the
explosions were always kept well away from the workmen.

14

Shortly after the arrival of the dynamiter came Lorenzo Balzarano,
a “Corporale” or Italian boss, to look over the work to be done and
receive instructions, that he might pick men best suited to the work
in hand. He was a big fellow with a good face and a “job lot” of English
in his possession. He remained over night, when the following inter-
esting incident happened. It came to us from the Dynamiter. One
of the colored men being much infatuated with the cornet and, in fact,
a village virtuoso, had taken his instrument into the wilds and made
night hideous with his attempts at imitations of Levy.

Lorenzo, whose name is shortened and Americanized to “Larry,”
asked if he might try the bugle. ‘This portended huge fun for the
superior American, so the instrument was gleefully handed over to
the man they called the “dago.” Larry made some noises even more
startling than Steves, and amid much laughter they endeavored to
teach him the approved method of blowing. Larry made strenuous
efforts and finally, rising to his full height and throwing out his chest,
filled the air with the most beautiful musical calls, running from the
thrilling call for a cavalry charge, through all the war horseman’s life,
to the last honors given a fallen hero. Never had they heard a pro-
fessional cornetist strike every note more clearly or with the fervor
that only the Latin blood possesses. All the American and many for-
eign army calls were rendered before the men realized that the joke
was on them.

‘Where did you learn them, Larry?” the Dynamiter inquired.

“Me in. Emperor’s bodyguard. Me boss bugler,” he calmly
responded,

The next day Larry, his brother, Antonio Monteforte (a half-
brother, evidently), who came in the capacity of timekeeper, and 18
other Sunny Sons arrived, when the natives were very glad to depart
to places of beds and indoor meals, sidewalks and continuous half-
holidays.

The question of housing the men while at work was a matter that
early came up for consideration. A shanty is the usual solution, while
tents might be adopted, or the unsanitary “dug out” mar the land-
scape. The former was entirely too ugly to suit our tastes; it also
was expensive, and useless when the men were through with it. Tents
were rather too airy, as we knew the work would continue until freez-
ing weather and perhaps well into the winter. We “passed” on the
“dug out.” The ideal as well as the practical was something that
would be of use after the work of clearing was completed, and for that
purpose we decided upon “condemned” freight cars. They cost but $10,
the railroad being glad to get rid of them (a later sale by a big trunk
line placed the market price at $1.00 each), while the hauling and
placing cost about $15. For $25 we had a well-built, permanent, and
the warmest and coolest (because lined and with air space) chicken
house one could possibly secure. A second car (for two were found nec-
essary when the Italians arrived), which we planned ultimately to make
into a hay-loft or feed-bin, was placed to the north of the location se-

15

lected for the barn; so that, by building a small barn directly against
the car, the warmest possible place for animals would be secured.

These cars were purchased and placed as soon as a clearing could
be made for them, and the Italians were as happy as kings in a palace.

One day a long, lanky, seedy individual arrived and asked for
work, cockney English was rampant within him and he proved to be
an English ‘““Navvy” just come over to join his wife, who had been here
some time; he was cheerfully given work, but we looked for but little
from him. He proved earnest and eager to learn, therefore of much
promise. He started a farmer’s boy and had run the gamut of “clerk,”
hostler and soldier, finishing as ’longshoreman.

With the advent of Larry and his swarthy followers work began
in earnest, for the native helpers had merely succeeded in clearing
the house plot of trees and taking out dead and crowding underbrush
in the windbreak which bounded the north and had escaped total
extinction by fire.

Beginning at the east line and working westward the Italians
cleared out every useless tree, cutting cord-wood where any could be
obtained, and burning the branches and charred trees as they went;
they also cleared out all underbrush, and burnt the ground over
thoroughly.

The Dynamiter with his helper followed them up. This is by far
the most exciting and interesting part of clearing land by modern
methods. The Dynamiter prepared his charges in two ways, one for
fuse ignition, the other for electric spark.

The dynamite is put up in half-pound sticks, they are a little larger
than an ordinary candle and are wrapped in heavy yellow paraffined
paper. One folded end of this paper is opened up and a hole made by
a wooden skewer in the dynamite stick, which is plastic and resembles
eraham bread in color and consistency.

For magnetic battery work a copper cap containing a minute quan-
tity of fulminate of mercury, and which requires a spark to explode
it, is attached to fine electric wires, and sealed by sulphur; this cap
is placed in the hole in the stick of dynamite and then securely tied
by drawing string tightly around the paper, which was raised to
admit the cap.

In preparing a charge for fuse ignition, the cap is crimped on to
the end of a piece of mining fuse and this is inserted in the dynamite
stick and securely fastened as previously described.

These prepared charges are placed in a basket and carried very
tenderly to the stumps which have been prepared by the dynamiter’s
assistant. All the work is handled very tenderly and carefully, for
while there is no danger of an accident unless fire is placed near the
explosive; extreme caution is used at all times. To handle ex-
plosives one requires a nature serene, calm and deliberate, which Mr.
Kissam possesses to a marked degree, and never in all the years he
has used the dynamite has he become the least bit careless, or ceased
to regard it with respect.

Inserting % |b.
cartridge

The battery,

and the explosion

The result
DYNAMITE CLEARING

17

The helper has made deep oblique holes under the stump singled
out for execution with a round crowbar or chisel-ended piece of pipe.
This is one of the most important parts of the work. The holes should
be as nearly horizontal as possible and directly under the stump, that
all the explosive force may be expended on the wood and not on the
earth between the dynamite and the stump, for earth acts as a cushion
and the natural tendency of dynamite to exert force downward is
accentuated.

Small stumps up to four feet require about 4 lb., while large ones,
say six to eight feet in diameter, require 3 lbs. of the explosive, which
is placed in several separate holes surrounding the stump. When a
stump requires separate charges, in order to secure united effort the
electric spark is used, the wires attached to the sticks of dynamite
are connected, and this circle of wire attached to battery wire about
200 feet long. This main wire is stretched to its limit and attached
to the magneto battery. At the word “fire,” the plunger of the battery
is sent home to the base, closing the circuit and sending the spark gen-
erated to the caps, thus the several sticks of dynamite are simul-
taneously exploded. It is a grand and wonderful sight, and I doubt if
many women have had the pleasure and privilege of sending the spark

Blowing by
battery

to a stump of live chestnut which measured 74 feet in diameter and
in an instant making of a waste place a bit of ground capable of taking
its place in the world’s work and ready to grow many blades of grass
where none had grown before.

Fourteen fuse charges are placed under as many stumps; the
method of placing, by the way, is to lower the charge into the oblique
hole, press it steadily and firmly with a blunt ended stick until ex-
panded to the full size of the crowbar hole, then fill up the hole with
earth and tramp it firmly, that no explosive gases may find a loophole
of escape. Each loaded stump is then marked by a stick or branch.

18

Two men light these fuses, which are cut a thirty-second length
{about a foot and a half of fuse burns this time). A match is touched
to each fuse, which has been slightly opened at the end that the
powder may be exposed and catch fire quickly. When the fourteen
fuses are all lighted the men take to their heels and flee for their lives.

They always reach a distance of 100 feet and often more, for it is
the longest thirty seconds one can conceive. At the first uplifting noise
and shock they glance backward, ready to dodge any kindling wood
coming their way. When they have run a safe distance they turn and
face the stumps, counting carefully each explosion and watching the
flying pieces, that they may not be hit. Dynamiter Kissam has never
had an accident, and I trust he never will.

Then follows a most delightful Fourth of July firecracker exhi-
bition on a large scale. Roots are thrown up out of sight and return
to earth a hundred or more feet from the place in which they grew,
while the air is filled with minute fragments of wood and powdered
earth. The record for stump blowing is 130 in one day, when 84
Ibs. dynamite was used. Three men can remove thoroughly one to
three stumps in one day by the use of the mattox, ax and shovel.

But to return to the farm. Work pushed steadily on and as soon
as a small strip was blown, the Italians came in, gathering up all the
stumps, roots and fragments, removing any pieces that might be
loosened but not completely torn out and piling them at intervals and
immediately burning them. This is a process that cannot take place
when stumps are removed by any other method, for by the digging

Dynamite beats this

from all view points

process the earth must be picked and scraped from them and ulti-
mately the stumps chopped or split in pieces before they will burn.

By the method pursued the stump is burned and the ashes spread
upon the ground in a few hours after they are blown out. By this
process is obtained the finest kind of unleached wood ashes, nature’s
best fertilizer, containing vegetable lime to “sweeten” and potash and
phosphoric acid to furnish plant food.

19

The two condemned freight cars had been placed in position and
the Italians made themselves thoroughly at home. Jn fact, they seemed
supremely happy there. Larry and Tony had partitioned off a portion
of their car for a bedroom, while a “hot stove” was placed in the remain-
ing portion, which served as kitchen and dining-room.

The rest of the men made bunks along the walls and an “eat
stove” filled their cup of happiness to overflowing. We made it a
custom to say good morning and good night to every man and to learn
the name of each one; they soon became bright faced, polite, eager to
please and extremely faithful. In fact, each one came to us asking
to go out to work there again in the Spring. As the days grew shorter
they asked to be allowed to make a full day and get full pay. We were
only too glad to have them do so, but didn’t see exactly how they could
manage it. They were up with the first streaks of dawn and cut the
dinner time down more and more, working on until it became dark.

Their meals are curious and interesting: a dish of red peppers and
half a loaf of rye bread for breakfast, half a loaf of dry bread for dinner,
and for supper a good pan full of macaroni and beans and tomatoes.
During all the time they were there they ate no meat and were well
and happy without it. Tony cut his foot badly with the ax once, but
kept at work just the same.

While the work was progressing, much thought had been expended
upon the soil and its needs. There was no top soil or humus; forest
fires had robbed the plot completely of this valuable element. *Tis
worse than a pity, ’tis unpardonable negligence on the part of land-
holders to neglect their fire lines. In the olden days ditches were dug
around all boundaries and were kept free from dead leaves and dry
matter which would carry fire. Now no one thinks either of ditching
or keeping the old ditches clean, so that fires starting from a carelessly
thrown match and various other causes, sweep from the Sound to the
Ocean, many times utterly destroying small farms and threatening vil-
lages in their path.

We were thoroughly convinced that the soil contained all the ele-
ments of plant food and that it was of extremely good quality. Oaks
and chestnuts will not grow seven feet in diameter unless this be true;
also it requires good soil to produce a forest with from 300 to 700 trees
per acre, none under 18 inches in diameter. We also knew that forest
land is always sour. That is, it has been shaded so much; the sweeten-
ing powers of sun and air have been denied it. The fact that this piece
had been burned over aided a trifle, as the sun could reach the soil
somewhat; further, the ashes produced from the burned stumps would
help. Long Island wood ashes contain, however, but about 5% lime
(the Island having no limestone upon it). Therefore, with these facts
before us, it was determined to spread half a car load (or 10 tons) of
old strawy manure to the acre and procure some Canada wood ashes,
which contain 40% vegetable lime, for use where the soil proved too
acid. The manure was ordered, five car loads, and delivered on Octo-
ber 5. The Italians proved their interest in the work, and their willing-

20

ness and eagerness to help was never better shown than when 18 of
them unloaded and cleaned two cars (nearly 60 tons) in 59 minutes.
The three remaining cars were unloaded by 14 men in 24 hours. It was

accomplished this way:

Stable

Manure

THE ONLY FERTILIZERS USED

“Larry,” said the Senior Partner, “tell the men to unload as
quickly as they can and I will give them an American smoke. The rail-
road men say it will take three hours and I do not wish to delay the
train crew. so long.”

“All right, Boss, we see.” The word was passed around with the
above result.

The box of cigars was delivered; then came the morrow.

“Good morning, Larry, did the boys like the cigars.”

“Yes, sir, we keep ’em, feast day.”

“But, Larry, were they really good.”

“Yes, sir, not so good like Italian cigar, Italian cigar stronger.”

“What do you pay for yours?”

“I buy fifty cigar, thirty-five cent, him very good.”

“Are they American?”

“No, Boss, him come from Italy.”

21

Never mind, they appreciated the gift even though the good
American cigars did not compare with their thin, black, stogy-like,
neck-muscle developers.

A team of horses with wagon, plow and driver was hired from
the neighboring village of Rocky Point. First was hauled to the north-
ern boundary all cord-wood the Italians had been able to secure when
clearing the land of standing timber and underbrush preparatory to
dynamiting. When this was accomplished, we possessed 18 cords of
rather small wood; not much for ten acres surely.

October 4 Mike Cooper (American for Miguel Coperillo) began
spreading manure on acre 1 and immediately plowing it in. It was

Breaking the soil

our intention to sow Winter rye on as much of the land as could be
prepared before cold weather prevented further work, in the hopes of
having a few inches of green humus to plow under in the Spring.

By this time, such a hue and cry went up about the expense of
using dynamite for clearing land that we had Larry pick his three best
men to take stumps out by hand. We chose average stumps for them,
and the best they could do was one stump each in from 24 to 34 hours
and requiring the. united efforts of all three to roll the root out after
it was loosened. They succeeded in getting out only the bare stump,
leaving all roots, large and small, to check the plow and prevent or
seriously hinder cultivation.

Dynamiter Kissam, with “Dell” Hawkins’ assistance, blew regu-
larly from 75 to 110 stumps a day. The dynamite splits them so com-
pletely that they can be burned at once, and in fact one of the unwritten
laws was that all stumps blown each day should be burned and the
ashes spread before work stopped. The stumps taken out by hand
required cleaning, splitting and drying before they could be burned;
an added expense. Thus the comparison figures on 100 stumps:

22

DYNAMITE.

Average: 60 lbs, Dynamitevat 15c. per Tb... 22. 65...6. 0. 6 e . $9.00
Laborromixpert and Jaelper. 20... ew oak tas tee eee 5.50
HOORRUISeSzalletne: Per TOORFCCE: 2. oi. ke Tae ee ee ee ates
MOMReCams creat, WET MUNE ccs wy ed agerbls. oa ktne aeeraid «ely ei Sicee wat 15

HAND LABOR. $16.00

- 100 average stumps requires 3 men 35 days at $1.33 per day. $131.67

Stump pullers were out of the question, there was no standing
timber for the block and fall to be fastened to, the time necessary to
hitch to stumps buried just under the surface, frequently with rotted
heart, together with the cost of the puller, hire of horses and men,
made it way beyond the power of competing with dynamite.

The daily bombardments seemed to interest people in the surround-
ing country very much. When questioned as to what was being done
at the Experimental Station they would reply:

“Aw they’re plantin’ dynamite and raisin’ hell and that’s all they
ever will raise.” Now that the Farm has raised other than that warm
locality they say it is “Fullerton luck,” but we know better.

By the 10th of October all the 17 acres had been cleared of under-
brush and dynamite work was progressing well. Fuse gave out, caus-
ing some delay, as manufacturers are not overly prompt in deliveries.
Two teams were working upon the cleared section, one plowing, one
disc harrowing. Following this process came spring tooth harrowing,
which gathered up the finer roots of sweet fern and huckleberry so
that they could be piled and burned.

All this time water had to be carried from the depot, a mile and a
half away. Two small Italian boys were kept busy all day traveling

Compared with
this or teaming

a driven well is
economy

23

back and forth. Water must be had for the farm, and it was our desire
to experiment in a small way with irrigation. There comes a time
every season when the Eastern States have a drought of greater or
less duration. A market-gardener should not be at the mercy of the
elements. There is too much at stake. Then, too, all extra choice
products should be carefully washed before they are packed. As for
the actual quantity of water required by plants for their growth, the
following instances are very convincing:

To produce one ton of dry oats requires 520 tons water; one ton
corn, 310 tons water; one ton red clover, 453 tons water. In other
words, growing plants require 300 to 500 times their dry weight. It
certainly seems as though water were more necessary than fertilizer
or anything else but sun and air.

In the middle of October the well was started; it was located on the

Looking for water
gravel

house plot northwest of the house site. The trees left vacant a circle
which was an admirable setting for the tank tower and a protection
both Winter and Summer. Much thought and investigation were
expended upon the water supply. The well, of course, was a necessity,
but there was much to be considered in reyard to the method of
pumping. Under ordinary circumstances a windmill would do, but a
farm should not be allowed to*prove a failure for lack of water in a
droughty season. During the past Summer, that of 1905, a drought
struck the entire Eastern section of the United States, when vegeta-
tion was making a strong early growth; as a consequence many plants
remained practically dormant. In case of drought (and almost every
Spring or Summer brings one of greater or less duration) water must
be on hand, and as a drought is usually accompanied by windless
weather a windmill could not be depended upon. An engine was
obviously necessary, both gasoline and kerosene engines were closely

24

investigated with the result that a “Secor” kerosene oil engine was
decided upon. This engine starts immediately by lighting a very small
quantity of gasoline by electric spark, which generates sufficient heat
to vaporize the kerosene when the engine is shifted to the latter fuel.
Some kerosene engines must be started by heating an iron ball red-
hot by means of a gasoline torch, before the kerosene is vaporized; this
requires oftentimes 20 minutes and more. Gasoline engines are more
expensive in operation and more dangerous to run; while the kerosene
engine’s first cost is greater it is much cheaper to operate. Another
advantage of the engine over windmill is that it will furnish power
for cutting wood or grinding grain, shredding fodder, filling silos, or
lighting the buildings, a 24 horsepower engine running 25 16-C.P.
lights easily.

The well-driller was accompanied by a huge colored man whom the
Senior Partner immediately dubbed “Big Mice.” Alas, he could not
remain, for there was not a house in the neighborhood where one with
African blood in his veins could get a bed to sleep in. He returned
home, leaving George, a young Westerner, to do the drilling, with our
*longshoreman as a helper. It was an exciting time when the well was
started. It would mean so much to have all the water needed and
not have to carry it the long distance in small quantities at high cost.

Then, of course, it permitted of a little sport, and many bets were
made as to the depth we should strike water. The site was about 100
feet above the Sound and we deemed that about the depth we should
have to go. The Senior Partner bet the driller we would strike water
nearer 90 than 100 feet; the bet was for a hat against a pair of gloves,
and he was so sure of winning he told me in confidence he had decided
upon a white “stove-pipe” with a deep well band.

Runs_ during
drought and calm
when cisterns are

dry and wind-

mills fail

25

Ah, the tantalizing delays about that well, first the driller ran out
of pipe, when more came it was the wrong size, an interminable delay,
and the next lot was cracked.

Water was finally reached at 102 feet (the hat remained a dream).
A little more drilling to bed the well points and strainer revealed the
fact that we had struck an infold or overlap of a terminal moraine,
for the sand instead of being sea-wash running into gravel was as fine
as emery. It would never do to stop there, for the flow would be slow
and the sharp stuff would wear the leather cups and brass valves out in
less than no time. Drilling continued through shallow layers; always
water in plenty but geological conditions poor. At 149 feet a beautiful
flow was struck with ideal gravel bottom; we had reached that huge
subterranean river which lies under Long Island and is a never failing
source of crystalline water, free from surface drainage, pure and sweet
for whomsoever cares to tap it. It rose to within 40 feet of the surface
and was still rising when the pumps were put on and we had the first
sip—sweet, sparkling, cold (49° F.)—the best drink in the world. Then,
to test the supply, an eighteen inch stroke was pulled and she never
“kicked.” Now the first turn of the pump throws water into the tank,
showing that the water stands close to the top of the pipe.

But to return to the land, Nature smiled her sweetest upon us
up to October 20, when there was a 24-hour downpour.

“Now we’re up against it, we won’t get the rye drilled in for a
week or more and that will be too late to get a good start this year,”
said the Senior Partner.

“Well if that Farm is anything like our garden you can drill in
rye to-morrow,” I said.

Hand in hand we traveled forth the next day and there were the
harrows going merrily over the ground, and though the soil was moist
it did not cake up a bit. Rye was sown in the afternoon, thus complet-
ing three out of the ten acres.

The comparison of plowing this land with land cleared in the
usual way is interesting. To begin with, the team and driver cost
$4.00 per day, while they always charge $5.00 per day for the land
when stumps are left in. This land plowed at the rate of 14 acres a
day, while # of an acre is the best they can do in stump land.

The king stump 7% ft. diameter after the persuasive effect of dynamite
26

“Old times’”’ planting

20th Century 10 to | methods

27

On October 28 I had the pleasure of blowing out our “king” stump,
a chestnut 74 feet in diameter.

Our neighbors and friends were kind and encouraging, many of
them came long distances to remonstrate after this fashion:

“Say, old man (that’s not I), we’re awful fond of you and you have
done a lot for the Island. We’d hate to see you ruin yourself. For
goodness sake give this thing up before it is too late. You know noth-
ing will grow here under three to six years. Honest, old man, we
mean it.”

Then the Senior Partner would walk around with them a bit and
they would say, “What’s that green over there?”

Shiver?

“No, go-wan, it can’t be!”

“Go and look for yourself then,” he would answer. They went away
nobler and better men.

Others would gather in the village stores and decide that we had
‘““pizened” the soil with gasses from the dynamite, but as the rye grew
stronger and greener they said, “Well, anyway, it wouldn’t live the
winter through.”

As the weather grew colder the problem of handling the dynamite
became a perplexing one. It freezes at 44° and we were absolutely
determined to get at least 10 acres cleared before snow flew.

The cold

weather magazine

A magazine was made of a large dry goods case and placed in the
middle of a pile of manure, the opening facing south. The dynamite
was stored in this, only as much as was needed for immediate work
being removed at a time.

“Dynamite camp” was first located in the house plot, but as the
work moved westward, camp also had to move. Finally we located in
the windbreak, placing cords of wood to the west, north and east,

28

leaving the south open. An old sail cloth was thrown over the wood-pile
in the daytime, keeping out the winds and making a warm sunny shel-
tered spot. Here the dynamiters prepared their charges, placing them
when ready in a small box in the bottom of which was some hot manure,
a cloth was thrown over the top and the lid closed down. Thus they
were transported safely to the stumps already prepared for charging.

The acres were cleared up quickly and cleanly, the stumpage run-
ning from 270 up to 337 on the eighth acre, the ninth numbered 334,
and when they started blowing the tenth we felt our goal was nearly
reached.

Dynamiter Kissam and the “Captain,” or “Cap,” as Dell was more
often called, worked harder than ever. They started the acre Novem-

4

eR, hee a
a 7 oR ¥ we gg
en ye ia

Lunch in the dynamiter’s cord-wood shelter

ber 2 and blew 110 stumps that day, the next 97, next 20, next 60, next
99, but apparently they made no impression upon it. We became impa-
tient, the Fall was slipping by and that last acre hung fire.

“Charlie, can’t you get someone else to help you, we must get
this acre and as much of the dairy as possible done this Fall.”

“Why, yes, I guess Ed. Underhill of Syosset wlll help me.”

“Telegraph him, then, and see if he will come out to-night,” said
the Senior Partner.

The “water boy” carried the message to the depot and “Ed” ap-
peared on the evening train. My! how those three boys worked the
next three days, until on the 16th they made a record blow of 160:
stumps, bringing this acre up to 797 stumps over average size. I blew

29

by electric spark the last one, and this 10 acres, up to this time a drag
upon the community, took its place in the rank of the world’s producers.

Three cheers arose from us all, even the Italians throwing their
hats in the air, and giving vent to their feelings.

By this time the plow and harrow were well up to the dynamiter,
so that the next day saw the 10 acres seeded down to rye and the tele-
gram that went to the President read like this:

“Number One’s ten acres cleared, plowed, disc harrowed, cross
harrowed with a spring tooth harrow, and drilled with rye in 645 work-
ing days from the start of clearing.”

And the answer came:

“Congratulations.”

30

bigs

erieattall eats
Winter Work —

ti

af

Market Garden

Dairy Section

Wading River,
ong Island, N. Y.

= * 2 - << [
; ‘a rw na oe ee

Plan of Campaign—Winter Work

Winter Work

YNAMITING continued in the dairy section up to the end of

D November. Three acres were completed, but the weather be-

came so cold it was very difficult to go further. Two acres
plowed, but no more work could be accomplished here.

The question of suitable shelter for us and for a man on the place
came early into consideration. We heard of a five-room portable that
had been used two Summers on the South Shore Beach, which was for
sale. It was in good condition, and authorization was given for its
purchase.

Immediately we made measurements for a cellar under it, for
there was urgent need of store room for coal in Winter and provisions
in Summer. Larry put three men in there, and they seemed to vie with
each other in quick work; to us the absorbing part was the soil con-
ditions. Of course all the soil was carefully placed and saved for
future use; it ran just three feet deep, when sea-wash sand and gravel
in brown and white strata appeared. This was also kept separate for
mason work, foundations for roads, and paths.

Erecting the portable |
house

In a day the cellar was dug, ready for the erection of the house.
It came like a pack of cards, was erected in two days by a carpenter and
his helper, and looked most ridiculous with the windows curtained
before the roof went on. This is the way it was arranged, leaving out
a partition at the western end and making four rooms instead of five.
It was heated by a very small 6-hole “eat stove” and a No. 0 “hot
stove” in the office. Into this house we put the English ’longshoreman,
his wife and little girl; they remained all Winter, finding the house
more comfortable than the average modern frame house.

33

Floor Plan

Early in the life history of the Farm, we roughly sketched the plan
of campaign, chicken house, barn, house, and well were plotted. Next
came the orchard, which was to cover an acre of ground. No farm or
country place, no matter how small, is complete without some fruit; it is
a permanent improvement, to draw more and more interest as time
goes by.

It was our plan to experiment with fruit in this way. Firstly, put
in many named varieties of many kinds of fruit and find what was
best adapted to the locality; secondly, to procure the stock from
widely differing sections, both north and south of us, to see which
change of latitude would show the greater advantage.

Many nights were spent poring over catalogues, and at last the
orders were given, each a duplicate of the other and an accompanying
letter stating the nature of the experiment, that the stock would be
planted at the same time side by side. One order went to northern
New York State, one to southern Pennsylvania.

Pennsylvania’s came first in “coffins,” the most ghastly looking
packages, arriving the day before election day. As Italians would rath-
er make a day’s pay than vote, and further had not registered, we start-
ed planting on November 7. A privet hedge running along the drive
road on the barn side was first planted. It was to be allowed to grow
tall and obscure the barn buildings from the house. A trench was
dug, some old well-rotted manure (of which a car load was purchased
as a mulch for the trees and fruit), and wood ashes thoroughly rages
in the bottom, and the bushes firmly set, a foot apart.

Previous to the arrival of the nursery stock, holes had been aie
to receive the trees. Acre 4 was selected for the Orchard; it was the
middle acre from north to south, on the eastern boundary and not far
from the house and on a slight slope. Apples occupied the first row,
set 25 feet apart, with a peach between each. Peaches last but 12
years, and will be out before the apples need the room. Next came
pears, then cherries, with one nectarine and one apricot for trial, next
quinces, then a quantity of Japanese plums, a few German prunes,

and greengages.
34

The varieties were as follows:

Apples. Cherries. Quinces.
Red Astrachan, May Duke, Champion,
Red Bietigheimer, Montmorency Bourgeat,
Esopus Spitzenburg, Ordinaire. Orange.
Northern Spy. Japanese Plums. Petes
: Abundance, ;
Raspberries. Busbank Barlett,
Golden Queen, Satsuma Worden Seckle,
Champlain. ETC ea: Anjou,
Cores European Plums. ane ia
Woenin : Grand Duke, Currants.
sti it Bavays Greengage, - Fays Prolific,
: Monarch. White Currant.
Moorepark Apricot, Nectarine.

Red, white and blue grapes, Catawba, Niagara, and Concord, Rathburn
blackberries, Palmetto asparagus, Myatts Linnaeus rhubarb and
Sharpless strawberries from the home garden.

The holes were prepared with wood ashes thoroughly mixed at
the bottom, the roots carefully pruned, then set in the hole with plenty
of room to spread out, and arranged as nearly as possible as they were
in their original home. Dirt was shoveled in carefully and slowly,
while one man tamped gently with a blunt stick in order that the roots
might be thoroughly embedded and no air spaces left about them.

When the hole was filled, two short stakes were driven beside the
tree, one to the east, one to the west, a piece of old garden hose about
four inches long was split, and encircled about the tree trunk. A soft
stout twine tied around the piece of hose and extending to each brace
and back again, held the tree firm so that no amount of wind could loos-
en the roots. We had the feeling that this work was too important to
trust to others, but soon found that Larry, Tony and Dominique were
doing as well as we could; in fact many of these men showed real talent
for gardening. Tying was work that woman’s hands could do, so
that was my portion.

Grapes went in around the chicken yard, currants, gooseberries and
blackberries, rhubarb and asparagus near them. There are but enough
of these plants to supply a family’s wants. To the north of the
Orchard and along the eastern boundary, raspberries were placed,
strawberries next them, leaving a strip in a swale between them and
the asparagus for the raising of late seedlings.

By the time these were all in it was well on into November, plow-
ing continued in the pasture and the Italians mounded earth about
each orchard tree, making a rain shed and preventing sinking about the
tree trunk where ice and snow could settle, next they piled a manure
mulch on this mound, leaving an open circle about each trunk that mice
and moles might not be harbored and eat the bark. Well we knew it

35

Staying the
fruit trees

was late for setting out trees and bushes, but also we knew that the
nurserymen take their stock from the fields, and “heel” them in where
they can get at them in the early Spring for shipment. To our minds,
a tree well planted and carefully protected, mainly against heaving
by freeze and thaw, stood as good a chance or better than one “heeled
in.” Added to that, when planted the roots had a chance to get settled
and gain a foothold, so that when growing season started (below
ground long before above ground) their work went on, gaining just
a year in their growth. All the rest of the stock was mulched, while
strawberries were covered with strawy compost after a fair freeze.

The drive and paths were made according to our sketch of the
early season. First gravel and sand from the cellar was spread and
rolled with a kerosene barrel filled with stone, next a dressing of loam
and finally cinders were laid; for this rolling, the well-driver’s drop
weight was borrowed. The road proved permanent, useful and sightly,
weathering both Winter and Summer well.

The well being finished, the erection of the tank tower and the
placing of engine and pump claimed attention. Stone for the concrete

86

corner foundations of the tower had to be brought from the beach, the
entire farm having disclosed four stones, the largest four inches in
diameter. <A large hole was dug, filled with boulders and cement, a
Square casing set above and the concrete poured in. The engine base
was made the same way and with even more scrupulous care, for we
were particularly anxious the engine should have a firm foundation.
All this work was done by the well-driver and John, no experts or high-
priced men were on the work. The tower went up and waited weeks
while “tracers” followed the tank from Michigan here. If any manu-
facturer could delay the work we seemed destined to win the delay.
Dame Nature was always with us, helping in every conceivable way,
but man—well, man is dead slow and “bites off ( in these strenuous
days) more than he can chew,’’and often prefers not to keep his word,
while his contract is seldom lived up to. A carpenter and his boy
next held sway, enclosing the tower, and building a lean-to for the
pump head. An engine does its best work when some distance from
the pump; well rods need raising for new cups and valves once in a
while, therefore the pump was given a lean-to with trap door in the
roof for raising the rods. In the upper part of the main tower an office
was made by laying a floor and erecting the most amazing flight of
stairs imaginable. The engine was set, the pump head was placed and
the carpenter and I “lined” the pulleys. “Pennsylvania millions” has
been the cry. I am sure none of them ever found their way to Experi-
mental Station No. 1; even if they had there are many things millions
cannot accomplish.

The well drillers drop weight made an excellent roller

37

At last the tank arrived and was erected; then another delay
while “tracers” again hunted pump pulleys that had never left the
factory. It has become a mercantile custom to saddle delay on trans-
portation companies.

One grand and never-to-be-forgotten day the engine started and
pumped the 5,000 gallon tank full in six hours. Hurrah, no more cart-
ing of water, we need not again think twice before taking a drink or
washing hands for fear the supply would give out!

The irrigation trunk line and standards

The irrigation system had been decided upon. Simple in the ex-
treme, it consisted of a pipe running from the tower directly south
through the chicken yard to the seed bed. By the chicken house, it
took a right angle, running west the length of the 18 acres, again north
to the northwestern corner, where the dairyman’s cottage would ulti-
mately be. A second pipe was run across the front lawn to the barn.
All these pipes were laid three feet deep, the work being done by
the Senior Partner and the Italians, with occasional help from the well-
driller. About every 100 feet of this pipe length, a standard was
inserted with a stop-cock at the top; these were for attaching hose,

88

for the system called only for a length of hose with lawn sprinkler
attached. Our idea, proven to our own satisfaction in our own garden
work, is that plants want their water in nature’s way, from above,
and that it can be applied when the sun is shining just as well as not,
provided you give them enough, don’t just wet the leaves and moisten the
ground, soqak them, it is the sunshower of summertime.

Well into the Winter work continued, the Italians (now cut down
to a much smaller force, of course) set fence posts about the entire 18
acres, and a division fence line between the market-garden and the
dairy. This was slow and tedious work for the ground was pretty
well frozen, yet we knew that when Spring opened there would be more
than all hands could attend to without thinking of fences.

Nature favored-us with an exceptionally open Winter, so that much
more was accomplished than was expected. Yet what remained to be
done seemed stupendous and we awaited the opening of Spring with
bated breath.

Winter nights found us poring over catalogues of seeds and imple-
ments, traveling to factories to see these implements made and learn-
ing their various features, drawing plans for a simple barn that would
blend into the freight car without looking freaky, plotting the ten or
rather thirteen cleared acres, that there might be no hitch either in
ordering seed or planting the same.

About the middle of January, Teddy, a young Englishman of about

Flower bulbs and seeds were planted
when time permitted

20, appeared, asking for work. He was an artisan’s son and had been
working on Long Island for a year or more; we engaged him gladly
for the Spring. He found work in the village during the Winter and
we were ready for his help March 1.

We had also engaged a Huntington boy who had worked for us in
our garden, where many strange vegetables have found a home, to go
with his wife to the Farm when Spring opened; Mike Cooper, who
broke up the soil, following the dynamiters closely, begged to become
one of our force, and as he is a good plowman, farmer, willing and
quick, we also engaged him for the Spring.

In January a trench four inches deep had been dug along the
front fence on the house plot; here we sowed sweet peas, giving them
a little old manure and plenty of wood ashes. They were covered to
within an inch of the surface, and instructions given to Mack to fill it
in before a heavy snow-storm. Alas for the sweet peas, he filled the
trench with true English thoroughness and but few of them ever came
through. J think now I prefer Spring planting. Who said, “Sour
Grapes.”

A pile of “blown” stumps with their long slender roots was piled
by the drive gate to serve in the future as a nasturtium trellis. Several
stumps were placed about the trees to serve as seats and flower-stands,
and as reminders of the past.

One of the most important portions of Winter work is the making
of hotbeds for raising seedlings. The barn was not erected at the Farm,
and no spot was quite sheltered enough for beds; besides a ’longshore-
man-sailor-soldier Englishman cannot tend hotbeds successfully.

“What shall we do?” said the Senior Partner. “We must have
tomatoes, early cabbage and cauliflower plants. We will have to grow
them here under our personal supervision and there is only one place
to put them that is ideal.”

“T know,” I replied, ‘““‘where I raise my early chicks, the warmest
spot in our home acre. All right, go ahead, we’ll sacrifice even chick-
ens to the success of Number One.”

So John Coddington was at once installed maker and tender of
hotbeds for Experimental Station No. 1 at Huntington in our own
home chicken yard. The space admitted of seven sash; a three-foot
hole was dug, the frame set according to regulations and hot manure
placed in the bottom. Fine sifted loam was placed over this and
when the bed had reached the proper temperature radishes were sown,
for we intended getting one crop of these before tomatoes, cabbage and
cauliflower took all the room. There were many bunches pulled in
March when radishes were bringing 25c. a bunch.

Tomato seed was sown in February in seven varieties: early, me-
dium and late; pink, red and yellow. In the little conservatory, our
Winter’s delight and recreation, my seed boxes were brought forth and
planted with asters, pansies, coleus, peppers and cardoon, all destined
to beautify the house plot about the little homestead in the Wilderness.
When seeds are sown, Spring begins.

40

Part Ill

Spring, the Strenuous Season

Plowing

Pulverizing

ee eee eee

Planting

SPRING, THE STRENUOUS SEASON -

42

Spring, the Strenuous Season

could be turned over. “Mack,” so dubbed to prevent confusion

with John Coddington, forked the lawn plots about the house—
the plow had not done any work here, for the trees interfered. It was
hard work and slow, but brawny muscle and encouragement prevailed.
A dressing of well-rotted manure and a sowing of ashes had been
spread for turning under, for we wished to lay special stress upon the
grass plot. Too many new homes never have one, more’s the pity. Of
course it needed raking after being turned over, and as no rakes seemed
to grow in scrub oak, the Englishman turned Yankee and invented one.
He took a board, drove nails through it, fastened it to a stick and pro-
ceeded to rake; Teddy, for a drag and leveler, tied a couple of cedars
to a board, which answered the purpose admirably.

Edward Tuddenham, or Ted, started work March 1, giving us two
men. Much work on buildings was yet to be done, while two more
portables of 3 and 5 rooms each were ordered; one was for the helpers,
the other for our own use. This necessitated moving the seaside cot-
tage already erected on the house plot farther west—an added expense,
but one that under the circumstances was unavoidable.

The tower was still incomplete and the barn unerected.

March 19 brought with it a corps of four carpenters. I quote from
the Senior Partner’s diary to show that things did not go merrily all the
time:

“The four carpenters arrived, with little to eat, nothing to cook
with and nowhere to sleep. I took out of the chicken-house-car mate-
rials stored there waiting the arrival of the portable houses, set two
men to work erecting bunks and tables, while the third returned to
the city for food supplies.”

It was necessary to keep the workmen there, for distances were
so great the best portion of a day was used in traveling back and forth.

Our next few days were spent in getting out orders for vegetable
plants (knowing full well we could not raise all we should need), and
various other “knitting work.” Receiving word that the carpenter
who erected the first portable would be there to erect the others (which,
by the way, had arrived), we returned to the Farm. The first thing
that greeted us was the barn frame, standing about four feet above the
ear top and big enough for an apartment house.

“Ror heaven’s sake,” exclaimed the Master Mind, “do you think
we are going to keep giraffes? That thing is big enough for giants.
Where’s the plan? We drew it and sent it in with this roof slanting
south from the car roof!”

The drawing was produced, a beautiful blue and white thing by
expert draftsmen, but the specifications attached did not “gibe.”

, 48

GT coia began with us when the ground, even though still hard,

To say we “threw fits” draws it mildly. Three men had worked |
three days with second hand extra heavy timber (this is where the
Penssy was saving a few millions) and this awful nightmare stared
us in the face.

“Tt hoodoos the whole place,” I exclaimed. “We might just as
well not have worked so hard. Telephone (oh, yes, we had a telephone,
every farmer should, especially if he is far from civilization and the
base of supplies) to the Engineer’s Department and ask them if it can’t
be altered.”

A heart to heart talk with the foreman revealed the fact that his
instructions were to “Do whatever Mr. Fullerton wants. If he says
to put the roof on the ground and the floor on top, you do it.”

That was sufficient for us, the roof came down in the world and
later took its proper place.

But March was slipping away and there were no horses, and plow-
ing must start soon! Would that barn ever be built?

The first
Thanksgiving

The Thanksgiving cottage must be moved; for so the first one
erected was named, from the fact that we took the two children and
dinner under our arms and spent the day at the Farm. Dinner con-
sisted of cold boiled chicken—the real kind that you raise yourself, not
the dormant kind of city life—fried sweet potatoes, which I warmed in
the little oven (this was before Mack’s family had moved in) and pump-
kin pie. To quote again from the diary:

“The entire Fullerton family having decided that the small village
plot was not sufficient in extent to allow their true Thanksgiving
proper expansion, arranged to take their diuner in a basket and eat
what was the first Thanksgiving dinner ever eaten, by a white man at
least, on Peace and Plenty Farm (this is our own pet name for the
place). The little portable was warm and the drawing table supple
mented by an extremely low rocker, one extremely high rush-bottomed

44

t

chair, several dynamite boxes and the mattress of a cot bed, made this
dinner unique in a great diversity of respects.

“As an appetizer, the orchard and growing rye were found remark-
able, and the old car which had once served as a refrigerator car on
the once-famous Long Island-Boston milk train, now almost forgotten,
gave the children an opportunity which they have longed for, of being
“real railroad men,” utilizing the low platform with its brake as a
locomotive of express speed.

_ “By means of an object lesson, consisting of peanut brittle, figs, vel-
vet molasses and a very careful and lengthy explanation, the Italian
gang were made at last to understand what the American Thanksgiv-
ing was about, and finally by combining Spanish with English, reward
was secured and some feast day called ‘Succore’ held in Italy was dis-
covered, this evidently being a day of similar meaning to the Italian
race.”

And I might add that every man jack of them later passed the
door, raised his hat and said “T’ank you, boss.” Boss to them is fem:
inine as well as masculine.

But to return to the march of events. Thanksgiving cottage was
moved, a new one erected over the cellar, and the three-room farther
west in the windbreak. We selected as much tree shelter as we could
for each cottage, knowing the shade would be welcome during the heat
of Summer.

Shelves were put in for clothes, books, etc., while kitchtn cup-
boards, diminutive pantries and table shelves made the kitchen arrange-
ments of two cottages complete. We were to eat in the office end of
Thanksgiving cottage, for six of us were to sleep in the four-room
“Homestead.”

Pruning time was here, so we sallied forth to see how our orchard
fared. With fear and trembling we went over it; returned rejoicing
in the fact that not a tree was dead and even this early (March 22)
they showed signs of awakening.

Potted tomatoes
awaiting transportation

45

Rain, sleet and snow now prevented outdoor work; there was
plenty inside, however, and the carpenter’s hammer still rang. The
last day of March being clear, we set out some dormant plants about
the house-plot: roses, ornamental grasses, iris and such things.

At home the tomatoes had grown strong and sturdy; we were giv-
ing them all the air possible to keep them stocky, and now they needed
transplanting. Potted plants fruit much earlier than unpotted ones;
early fruit brings the highest price: ergo, ours should be potted. John
and I set to work, making the chickens’ scratching house our workshop.
A case of paper pots was to our hand; some earth from the hotbed and
the seedlings completed the outfit. John filled the pots, I set the
plants, a whole day and they were not done yet; another half-day and
we had the bed’s capacity filled, 1,300 pots returned to the frame to
await warmer weather for transporting. We were rather proud of
that bunch. For several days they were kept well watered, shaded
and cool, until the fine roots should have gained a new foothold. Cab-
bage and cauliflower were thriving, though not to our liking, tomatoes
need heat, the others cold, so the latter were being somewhat coddled.

April first and the barn not yet complete. There was only one
thing to do, coax Neighbor Robinson to rent us his team again until
we could get our horses. On the 2nd plowing started on acres 1 and 2.

Rye was 15 inches high when we began
to turn it under, and 39 inches at the finish

The rye was 15 inches high—alas for the prophets—and was being
turned under to do untold good. Fine roots of huckleberry and sweet
fern still kept coming up and we knew the fight with them was des-

46

tined to be a long and hard one. The harrow gathered them up some-
what, but still they were obstructionists.

The annual forest fires started to the west of us; strenuous effort
on the part of all the force of workmen saved that section of the Island
from again burning over; a second fire a few days later with a westerly
wind met its own defeat against the fence of the cleared land of the
Experimental Station.

The forest fire meets civilization and defeat

By the end of the first week in April work was swinging at a
rapid pace, land was being plowed as fast as possible, the stable nearly
complete, so that on the 7th the two “condemned” express horses (con-
demned because their feet were worn out by city pavements and for
no other reason) arrived. Great big beautiful fellows, one a gray with
a little Percheron in him immediately named “Buckeye,” while the
other, a Roman-nosed buckskin, received the name “Texas,” in recog-
nition of his ancestry.

Horse and hand implements were being assembled, these consisted
of Planet Jr. one horse cultivator, horse leveler, hand drills, hand cul-
tivators, a roller and a plow.

47

Arrival of Buckeye and Texas

Three plum trees were heeled in in the Fall and saved for Spring
planting, for comparison with the Fall planted stock; these were now
set out, two in the chicken yard, one near the little cottage.

On the 11th grass seed was sown about the house plot, a mixture
of Burpee’s “Fordhook Famous” and his “Shady Nook.” It was
brushed in with the cedar trees. To the southwest of the house a
small plot was sown with U. S. Government grass seed; a row or Hari-
cot Beans, also from the Government, bordered it, so it became known
as “Government plot.” Some plants with lovely copper tags bearing
enormous numbers were also planted here; they throve well but things
without a name are never as sweet to me as ones with names, even
when indefinite Latin.

As the land was finally prepared for seeding, it was done in this
manner. Rye turned under with the plow, followed by dise harrow,
followed by spring tooth harrow, followed by leveler, which, by the
way, is one of the best and least appreciated or used of farm imple-
ments. It levels uneven spots, breaks clods and pulverizes the soil.

The “gude mon” came home and said, “Those cussed wiry huckle-
berry roots are still so thick, I don’t see how the hand drills will ever
work among them. We simply can’t spare time to rake them out by
hand.”

“Why don’t you borrow a regular horse hay rake, I should think
that would clear them up a bit.”

“Level head,” he exclaimed. We borrowed a rake and it worked

48

Raking and burning the fine roots of underbrush

like a charm, two car loads to the acre of those “cussed roots” came
out and were promptly burned.

April 14 was ushered in with a light white frost, but hand drills
started early and by night four varieties of radishes, covering half an
acre, and three varieties of peas had been planted, also Sakurajuma—

Dnilling in first crops
49

a Japanese radish. The drills worked hard and unevenly, going into
the soil deep, then checking against roots. A two-man method was
invented, one pulling with a halter, the other pushing. But the men,
John and Ted, soon found they could work them alone.

In going over the diary for April, one’s head fairly spins with
the work accomplished. Plants were removed from Huntington to
the Farm, tomatoes were placed in the implement shed until a cold-
frame could be built to receive them. Cabbage and cauliflower were
set at once in the field, being covered with paper pots for a few days
to prevent wilting, and sometimes at night to guard against cold.

Lettuce, beets, onions, spinach, parsnips, endive, scorzonera, celery
(in the seed bed) and corn were drilled in by the little Planet Jr. hand
drills, those exquisite little time-savers.

As an illustration of the work they will do in this new ground it
required 25 minutes to plant 8 rows of parsnips, each row 100 feet long.

To plant three rows each of four different varieties of lettuce con-
sumed 45 minutes and this of course meant empty and fill the drill for
each new variety.

Lettuce plants and cabbage plants from a Huntington grower were
set out (we wished to test transplanted lettuce with that grown in
drills and only thinned). Chives, shallots, Pe-tsai, carrots and radishes
from North China were all sowed. Udo, the Japanese celery, was
planted to the east of the raspberries.

Taking no chances
with the San Jose
Scale

On the 21st all trees and shrubs were sprayed with “Scalecide,”
as a preventive against the San Jose scale. To do the orchard and
berries required 1 hour and 15 minutes and 8 gallons of the mixture
(1/3 gal. sealecide at 60c. per gallon); not a very costly ounce of
prevention.

A portion of the lawn was sprinkled as a first test of irrigation.
On the 26th of April the grass seed had germinated on this portion only.

50

Potatoes were planted this month—nine varieties, as a test of their
earliness, productiveness and qualities.

On the night of the 22nd the “hustler” came home and exclaimed:
“A plum is in bloom.”

“Where? In our garden?”

“Our. garden nothing, No. 1 of course.”

“Why it can’t be,” I exclaimed, “you know they really ought not
to be alive and they can’t bloom the first year.”

“T don’t care, it’s in bloom and a lot of the others show fruit buds.”

“Whose trees? New York or Pennsy?”

“Pennsy, all their trees are way ahead, they’re alive to the tips
and some of them are in leaf, while New York’s are only in bud, with
no fruit buds, and many of the branches have died back three or four
inches,” he replied.

“Score 1 for No. 1,” I said. Everyone said you should move stock
south to have it produce earlier, but we knew that Pennsy’s stock
stood the better chance, for they showed more careful packing and the
trees looked sturdier. Anyhow, no one can say they did not have a
fair show, for they were warned of the contest and came prepared
to meet victory, defeat or a tie.”

Chill drizzly weather now prevented further planting afield. A
cold frame was erected in the lee of the barn and tomato plants trans-
ferred there. They were showing the need of overhead light, although
still stocky and strong. Rain, however, rushed vegetation along and
rhubarb and Udo jumped out of the ground like a “Jack in the Box.”

The painters were busy on all buildings, while the homestead
was being completed and furnished for our occupancy, for the farny
needed us every hour, day and night, this its first tender year. The
call of its tender youth was strong upon me, for I adore babies of
every description, but the dear old home must first be placed in good
. keeping before I could fly.

The office completed and desk in place, the stenographer took up
her abode at the Farm with our English family, helping until I came,
with the daily records of the multitude of things accomplished each day.

To quote from the diary, April 30:

“More lettuce, spinach and salsify up and apparently glad it
came. Brought further live stock to the Farm in the shape of two
setting hens. (This was my scheme, I wanted young chicks, could not
set the hens at home and being afraid the trip would “break them up,”
I put each hen in a box with hay and three china eggs under her. They
traveled the 33 miles setting all the way. I doubt if anything could
have disturbed them with the eggs under their breasts. Wonderful
nature of motherhood!)

“Set out 880 cauliflower from the hotbed.

“Being unable to secure plumbing experts, made a practical
demonstration that an English soldier and an American cowboy could
cut pipe and affix fittings without stupendous difficulty, and further
make absolutely tight joints.”

51

_ WE SER RA

oor ua

Setting out plants

This same “skilled labor” (non-union men, however) made for us
the “dandiest” little bathroom ever a farm beheld. Beside the pump-
head in the lean-to was a space about six feet long and three feet wide.
This was boarded in, a cement floor laid slanting to one corner; pipe
run through and tap attached. A tiny bathtub was placed across the
end of the room, a two-hole oil stove back of it and raised on boxes
to the level of the tub. A wash boiler with brass spigot in its side near
the bottom crowned the stove and here was the hot water supply. No
one could ask for a better bath, and the cowboy-soldier combination
made it all after the strenuous outdoor day work was done.

Lima beans were planted on the last day of April, although I be-
lieve the proper old-fashioned time is the afternoon of the 29th of May,
or some such jargon.

We were also utterly disrespectful of the light and dark of the
moon. All root crops being in our forefathers’ day planted in the
“dark” and all upper crops in the “light.” To us, nature’s signs are
the best; when the maple is in bud, in leaf and in bloom are sure signs,
for she never makes a mistake. Her chats with “Old Prob.” are in a
better and surer language than ours.

April gone! with its sweet odors nowhere so sweet as on new land
surrounded by woods, rapid growth, continuous surprises. The month
of tears and sunshine—and strenuous work.

52

May day started with the planting of corn and beans, finishing the
last cleared acre of the dairy and re-sowing celery in the seed bed.
This seed-bed was one of the Farm’s semi-failures; we selected a plot
to the south and east of the chicken yard, warm and protected. It was
forked over with a goodly quantity of manure and raked as fine as
possible.- Somehow it baked, and celery being so slow to germinate
(three weeks), the surface could not be broken. It needed old, light,
friable black soil such as we should have had if forest fires had not
robbed us. Too much care cannot be expended on a seed-bed and a seed-
bed is one of a farm’s most valuable adjuncts.

Cultivation started on the 4th of May; peas and radishes being far
enough advanced to have the Planet Jr. hand cultivators run through
them. The rows were rough, crooked and irregular, showing plainly
where the drill, running into a bunch of roots, had choked, and, being
released farther on, dropped the accumulated seed. Peas did not show
this irregularity as much as radishes, but we were content when we
saw the seed coming along in the bare spaces a little later, for we felt
we would have a succession just as good as a second planting. Our
surmise proved true, for radishes continued maturing for one month.

The 5th was lost in a big sea fog, that great factor in Long Island’s
agricultural success. They steal in during the night at frequent inter-
vals, covering leaves and soil with a soft salty film of moisture, giving
a crispness and freshness to foliage which inland plants are denied. It
is no wonder cauliflower is so happy on the Island.

On the acres not needed for early planting the rye was allowed to
grow as long as possible. It ran up to 34 and 39 inches on some acres,
with signs of early and full heading, which proved to our entire satis-
faction that a rye crop on newly developed land would be a paying one.

On the 7th the Diary says: “Set out 100 Long Island Beauty
Cauliflower between the rows of Extra Early Peas. Asparagus up,
potatoes up, red and orange carrots from North China up, artichoke and
kohl rabi up and nectarine in bloom.”

John was working on the Farm by this time, although his
wife and family (consisting of one cat and a few pet house plants)
had not yet arrived. This made three men on the 13 acres, not quite
as much help as one would expect Pennsy. millions to employ.

Canada wood ashes with the 40% vegetable lime had arrived and
we sowed them where we felt they were most needed; about the house
plot principally, for this section had received next to none of the native
ashes. Acre No. 3 in the dairy also received 200 lbs., for it was newly
plowed in the Spring and had received no manure whatever. We knew
the ashes could not make up for the manure humus, but we wished to
do the best we could for the poor thing.

“Pm awfully sorry about that acre,” the Senior Partner said.

“But just think what a beautiful test of the soil’s capabilities,” I
replied. ‘“We’ll see what she’ll do unaided and alone.”

About this time Mr. Peters made the Farm a visit. One of his
first exclamations was:

“QO, Mr. Fullerton, where are the nasturtiums for these roots?
You’re late, ours at home have broken ground.”

He was led to the cold-frame where mine in pots were making
trellises of the tomato plants.

“All right,” he said. “Youw’ll win.”

That night we moved out. The children, the cat, the faithful nurse
and I. Our baggage was in boxes made to roll under the beds, for the
economy of space was to be a large feature. Put four people to sleep
in a room 12x12, two of them active, healthy children, and every inch
of room must be utilized to the best advantage. These boxes were
on ball-bearing castors and had a good handle on the front of each,
they rolled out easily and held our simple country wardrobes to
perfection.

The next day being balmy, my first task was to set scme pet plants
of forget-me-nots from the home acre in a bed to the east of the house;
asters, pansies coboeas and the nasturtiums were also planted, giving
us the nucleus of a flower garden.

Black beetle had attacked the tomatoes in full force, where these
and all the rest of the pests known to creation came from is a mystery.
Everyone said we would at least be free from them, but we were fore-
armed and had a quantity of “killers” on hand.

A heavy sifting of fine coal ashes saved the tomatoes, but they
simply ate every eggplant during the night. They are about the
meanest, peskiest little creatures alive.

There was thunder on the 18th, and we decided it was about time
for tomatoes to go afield, they had long outgrown the cold frame and
the “Earliest Pinks” were in bud.

Some lettuce, Brussels sprouts and flowering plants came from
a big commercial grower in Maryland; they arrived in such bad condi-
tion that the sprouts were absolutely worthless, a few lettuce were
planted on “a chance,” but soon gave up the ghost. The flower plants,
a few geraniums, hollyhocks, perennial phlox and chrysanthemums
were packed better and did well during the Summer.

We were hearing tales of woe from our neighbors about the frost
on the 11th.

“Well, I suppose you lost everything the other night, Neighbor
Fullerton?” they would say.

“Why, no, I can’t see that anything is harmed except the tips of
the leaves of the corn and the Moyashe Udo.”

“Corn! You ain’t got corn planted yet, have y’u, why we’re just
aplowin’?”

“Yes, I went up on the tank tower yesterday and I see we’re just
about two weeks ahead of you,” he said.

“But didn’t you lose your beans?” the neighbors queried.

“Beans, bless your hearts, no, my beans aren’t up yet. What are
you planting beans for in April? Why don’t you plant radishes and
peas and cabbage and cauliflower and such things, that don’t mind
frost?”

54

“Well we thought we’d beat you tarnal book formers and have our
beans up ahead of your’n, but I guess you’ve got the best of it.” And
they disappeared utterly disgusted with our “book farmin’.”

“The trees are in leaf, it’s time to plant squash and pumpkin and
cucumbers,” said I.

So in they went, while caladium, gladiolus and oxalis were added
to the house plot. Wild cucumbers, that rapid climber with its pretty
feathery white blossom and queer prickly seed pod, were planted
wherever we could find a place for them to climb.

Then the crows began to talk and we heard them deciding that
we were now a portion of civilization, while the cabbage and cauli-
flower butterflies were so delighted to find a new farm, they decided
not to fly farther

The fields were rough, and it was next to impossible to plant in
straight rows, in some cases we were forced to make a drill by hand
and plant by hand, at other times a furrow was opened by hoe and the

Cauliflower from the hot
bed, protected by
paper pots.

Plowing for potato
planting

seed drill run upon it. In other places the horses plowed a furrow, hand
planting following. Certain it is whatever method was pursued the soil
responded and the plants were just as happy crooked as straight.

On the 16th we shipped the first product of the farm—a bunch of
radishes to Mr. Peters. He is the Fairy Godfather and always receives
the first or the biggest, as the children say. They were as anxious
for him to have it as we were, and the first of everything from their
own wee gardens was religiously sent to him.

On the 21st the Suffolk County Press Association held their annual
meeting at No. 1. They dined out of doors “al fresco,” eating of the
radishes growing not a dozen paces away. To them the Farm was a
revelation, for all of them were familiar with the vast tracks of unused
lands and to them it meant a new era for the Island they are all work-
ing for so earnestly.

55

Gathering the first crop—radishes

To quote from one of the number:

WONDERFUL LONG ISLAND SOIL

H. B. Fullerton Shows Newspaper Men Marvelous Results
from Scientific Use.

Long Island soil is adapted to the growing of all kinds of fruit
and vegetables in a degree that is only just beginning to be realized.
It has long been a popular superstition that the island was a barren
sand waste, which could grow only marsh grass, and that none too
profusely. There are still a very few people outside of the island
who believe it can grow more than pound for pound of vegetables to
bone fertilizer. It is safe to say that there is not a baker’s dozen of
people in all of New York City who know the unlimited possibilities
of the Long Island soil.

A day of awakening is near at hand, however. A man keenly alive
to the real agricultural situation on the island (his name is H. B. Ful-
lerton) has come into contact with a man keenly alive to the promising
future of all of suburban New York; and the result is that the island
will be developed with intelligence and patience along the very lines
which Nature designed for it.

Ralph Peters is the president of the Long Island Railroad and
the man who is alive to the promising future of the suburbs of New
York. When Mr. Fullerton, who can give the author of “The Simple
Life” cards and spades in “getting back to nature,’ showed Mr.
Peters what he had done in a small way with Long Island soil on his
own place at Huntington, Mr. Peters said, “Fullerton, you can doubt
theories; but these are facts,” or words to that effect; and became so
possessed of an enthusiasm for Long Island soil that he was not satis-

56

fied until the railroad itself had taken hold of the task of demonstrating
the soil’s productiveness.

Well, the railroad has the task well under way; and you wouldn’t
believe, unless you had seen, what has been accomplished since last
fall.

Ten acres of what were then virgin, tangled, oak land, a little at
the west of the Wading River station, the last station on the Port Jef-
ferson branch of the road, are now under cultivation and growing al-
most every conceivable kind of fruit, vegetables and flowers. Think
of it! It was the despised “Long Island scrub oak land” last fall!
And now it is under cultivation and bearing the tenderest of garden
truck.

“Why, certainly,’ many a scoffer has been heard to say about it,
“the experimental farm had the dollars of the railroad back of it to
buy fertilizer with. Of course you can make thirty cents grow if you
plant a double eagle.” But the joke is on the scoffer; for this rich
little farm, which has been growing only trees, moss, huckleberry vines
and rattlesnakes since Columbus came over on the Hamburg-American
or whatever line of steamers it was and nominated himself for discov-
erer of America, this little farm has not used an ounce of that sup-
posed cherished necessity of Long Island farming—bone fertilizer.
Mr. Fullerton knew that the use of it would sound the death knell to his
enterprise.

The land was freed from stumps and the stumps were burned on
the place. On one acre there were over seven hundred of them. The
wood ashes were left on the ground and the ten acres which were
cleared were sowed with rye, which in the spring was plowed under.
Then, in planting the peas, radishes and what not, very poor horse
manure was used. So much for fertilizer, fish, bone and every other
kind—except water!

And there is the secret. There’s water enough on Peace and
Plenty farm. There’s a little kerosene engine, which pumps it up from
the earth and fills a tank. Cheap iron pipes carry it to the farm; and
there isn’t a piece of the land that cannot be reached by it. Old Sol
can beat down as he will, and Jupiter Pluvius go on as prolonged a
spree as he will, and neglect his business: the crops will grow because
they have the water. It is cheap irrigation, too. Here, again, the
“money bags” of the railroad have not been foolishly opened. The
method of keeping the crops wet is such as any bright young man
might go into as an investment on his farm.

Everything on the farm is practical; and every effort has been
made to make the place a working model which a business man could
copy. The aim has been to make it an economical market-garden,
growing the finest of produce on “Long Island’s barren sand wastes,”
to put on the breakfast and dinner tables of that great mart of all
marts for fresh vegetables and fruit—New York City.

The Long Island Railroad invited the members of the Suffolk
County Press Association to inspect the farm on Monday and placed a
private train of two cars at their disposal. Mr. Fullerton was the
host in charge, on the train and on the farm, assisted at the latter place
by Mrs. Fullerton, who is, herself, an authority on horticulture.

A dinner was served under the trees on the farm on the arrival of
the train about noontime. About twelve of the Island scribes spent one
of the most enjoyable days of their lives on this occasion; but, more
important, were impressed as never before with the possibilities of
Long Island soil.

—Amityville Record, May 25, 1906.

57

A drought was starting, warm high winds were blowing steadily
day and night, a more trying condition could not be found. The irriga-
tion sprayers were started in the peas, radishes and lettuce, still they
did not respond as we wanted them to.

“Try some nitrate of soda and see if that will give them a boost,”
I said. ;

“T hate to do it,” the Senior Partner replied, “for I know as well
as anyone they need cultivation they have not received.”

“Would you mind telling me where anyone has had time to culti-
vate anything? Take three men on 13 acres of new land and plant
everything ever heard of and some that never were and there is no
time left for cultivation,” I exclaimed. ‘We know they need cultivation
and a lot else needs it, too, but we can’t have an ideal market-garden
here this year. Look what the soil has done already.”

On the 23rd John mixed some nitrate of soda with earth, half and
half, and sowed it beside the peas, lettuce, cabbage and cauliflower
(cauliflower between the peas, I mean, only 100 plants).

That was 60 lbs. of nitrate, the only fertilizer the crops ever had.
Still we kept the sprayers going, for the drought lasted until the 2nd
of June, but peas yielded, radishes were so thick there was not force
enough to gather and ship them, while lettuce began heading up in
excellent shape.

The last of May gave us the first discord in our Farm family. A
woman we had befriended had been growing grumpier and grumpier
for some time, while a member of her family was often sullen and
morose. A cloud-burst was soon to appear, we felt the human thunder
in the air.

At last the pleas from her “that there was more than one pair
of hands could do,” although she had been working for a much larger
family, decided the question. She was either to stay under the same
conditions without further trouble from her, or go. Go it was, and that
promptly on June 1.

The last day of May the man boarded the train for New York with-
out leave. The Master ordered him back from Port Jefferson on the
grounds of desertion. He did not return and the woman disappeared
that afternoon, returning about 9 P. M. in a disturbed frame of mind.
The secret was out. The man returned the following night in upset
condition, announced himself a deserter not only from the Farm but
also from the English army and that he was a dangerous man gener-
ally. Amid storm and much unpleasantness and many more incidents,
the episode, although closed, left with us a feeling of regret for a man
who just missed being a useful and fine member of the community.
Powerful, well built, willing, obedient, faithful, many fine traits, all
spoiled by one weakness.

Yes, we had our troubles. But Mike was with us now, loyal and
faithful, though three hands for these 13 acres was short help.

Part IV

Summer

x Das el ard
ee. g a sth
Wepre zr eat :

-.

The “Littlest Girl’
finds the first pea
blossom

Summer

HE first day of June and I am going to invite you into the dairy
with me.

A walk from the front gate where the lawn was showing
green, flowers growing happily and vines beginning to climb; past or
through the little portable with its books, pictures and atmosphere of
a busy life, out to the drive-turn where in the middle was my vegetable
flower bed. Here scarlet-runner beans were starting up the young oak
saved from the fire’s destruction. Cardoon around the tree, now borage
with its large hairy leaves and a tuft of buds in the center, then pep-
pers and a large circle of rampion gorgeous with its delicate violet
bells and parsley bordering the bed.

The chicken house

Down the middle road (which by the way is not in the middle but
one-third the distance from the North to the South fence) past the
chicken house where the fowl were happily ensconced, a glimpse of
rhubarb raising its enormous leaves above some kegs and boxes placed
about the crown.

To the left the orchard, every tree showing rich foliage of superb
color, here an apricot standing out with its exquisite pinkish leaves,
there a cherry almost black with intensity of vigor. The tomatoes be-
tween the rows of trees showing at a glance which were potted and
which from a nurseryman’s seed bed, the former erect, sturdy, keeping
right on with their life’s work; the latter drooping, wilted, making a
hard struggle to gain a foothold.

To the right the lettuce drilled in, emerald green and reddish
brown, peas dwarfed yellowing showing the need of an experimenter’s
mind and care in their behalf, radishes in the distance, rows upon rows
of them, with transplanted lettuce in every third row (this plot was

61

singled out for super-intensive cultivation). Next beets with tops of
rich red and sombre green growing in ragged rows, more coming up
each day telling again of a prolonged successive yield, then onions tel-
ling the same story with cabbage plantlets from a Huntington grower
in the background.

To the right an unplanted acre, heaps of old manure dotted upon
it; this is to be the melon field, near the house and in full view of our
buildings, a wise location for melons. Next this field the potatoes with
a small boy, can in hand, picking the “potato bugs.” The leaves show
where Bordeaux and Paris Green had been applied the day before, but
the Colorado beetle cared naught for its presence.

Dusting potatoes with
Bordeaux and
Paris Green

The next acre shows queer patches of early cauliflower, early
corn and parsnips—a sad tale the cauliflower tells of being raised with
the heat loving tomatoes and then no one to cultivate it when it had
been set out but a few days. Here and there a huge one of superb
color proclaimed where a bonfire had burned last fall telling better
than words the value of wood ashes upon new land. ‘To the right of
the road, the last acre before the dairy gate is reached, a patchwork
quilt of true market-garden type. First some beautiful cabbage plants
of early Jersey Wakefield and All Head, grown in the same hotbed
as the cauliflower but feeling the change much less; behind it a patch
of tiny feathery carrots, the pride of its planters’ hearts because “old
farmers” had none this year. Beside it oyster, green and white endive
with its three shades of tender green; next salsify and scorzonera
looking like rows of grass. Nearer to us and next the road a big patch
that should have been spinach, but a few plants however proclaimed
the intent of the plot. Little harm was done by its loss, it required
but thirty minutes to plant it and but a few more cents for seed and
we knew for another time it was unwise to plant it in April, the plot
was ready to receive another crop with but small work of preparation.
A tiny patch of corn planted April seventeenth showed more than ever

62

the effects of May’s frost; an interesting experiment however that
should have the benefit of all the time needed to prove itself. Brus-
sells sprouts had been set between the hills, making the patch, we
hoped, a little more productive. Alas for our hopes, these plants
came from the same nursery in Maryland as the lettuce, and brought
with them blight and cabbage louse, an act that should no more be
tolerated .than the shipment of orchard trees infested with San Jose
scale.

We reach the dairy line, John, Ted and Mike are at work upon
Acre 1 to the right. The acre is divided into quarters and being pre-
pared to receive alfalfa. The field has already been plowed, dressed
with Canada wood ashes, harrowed, leveled, rolled, harrowed and har-
rowed again, raked and again rolled in order that the soil might be in
the best possible condition. We have brought with us some Litmus
paper, and to test the acidity of the soil, a handful is moistened at a
nearby irrigation stand-pipe and the paper applied. Anxious watching
and it slowly turns blue.

“All right,” calls the Farmer, “sow that soil carefully John in the
northeast quarters and don’t let any lap into the other quarters. When
you come to harrow it in Mike, let Ted go with you and lift the harrow
from quarter to quarter so no earth will be dragged.”

The soil? That is from an old alfalfa field up New York State
and we are sowing it to innoculate our soil with bacteria. The far or
northwest corner is the highest you notice, it is the check quarter, that
will have no innoculation whatever. The southerly are U.S. quarters,
one will have the seed, and the other both seed and soil innoculated
with bacteria culture from the U. S. Government Laboratories; this is a
test for Uncle Sam.

The acre across to the left is divided in half; this is the poor thing
that was not plowed until this spring. Isn’t it rough and aren’t the
rows crooked? Teosinte, the Japanese fodder that can be cut four
times in a season, won’t care. See, it’s breaking ground. Yesterday
they sowed the other half of this acre with Japanese barnyard millet.

And this? O yes, white flint corn, beyond sorghum, and still
beyond, Virginia horse tooth. They were planted the twenty-sixth
and of course are not up yet.

“Why do we plant in hills?” you ask. “Isn’t that old-fash-
ioned?” Perhaps, but a good fashion, for the crop can be cultivated
both ways by horse, saving that tremendously expensive item—hand
labor. But why do you raise corn here, you query, you thought that
was given up in the East long ago.

We are not raising corn, we are raising silage. Here at the end
of the road in this protected swale will be the cow barns and silo, all
these crops will be gathered for the silo, for modern dairymen carry all
food to the cows in balanced rations. Come and see us again when
these crops are growing.

Here you see the rough unstumped land and there the “Daddy-
long-legs” harrow with which the attempt at culture was made. We

63

Sowing and harrowing
June Ist.

Mowing August | 3th
28 inches high

Baling for compact
storage

Hauling it in
Aug. 14th.

THE ALFALFA STORY

pg

Abandoning the “ daddy-long-legs’” harrow

have tried it, the work is tremendous, the strain and liability to injury
to horse astounding, while the results amount to naught. We are put-
ting in Canada field peas and cow peas, but the chances of germination
are small because it is impossible to cover the seed.

Experimental Station No. 2 in the “Pine Barrens”
65

Let me take you back through the south of the Farm. Here is
the black Mexican corn, the sweetest and weirdest of all the sugar
corns. It is already breaking ground. Next are mangle wurzels and
sugar beets; some of the seed was soaked over night to see if it would
hasten germination. Next is where the sweet potatoes will go. Do
we think they will do well here? Yes, but not as well as in the lighter
soil on Experiment Station No. 2, at Medford. It is an experiment
worth trying, however, for they have been grown successfully on the
North Shore. We plan to put in nearly an acre.

Why is this part of the land so very rough, you ask. O, this is
the acre that had 797 stumps upon it, all over eighteen inches in diame-
ter. Imagine the forest that one day must have covered it. These
acres eight and nine are left for late “flowers,” cabbage and sprouts;
but acre number seven, down yonder, is thriving. These are a second
planting of green pod and wax beans, next squash and pumpkin with
cucumber alongside. I know they are supposed to mix, but they never
have in our home garden and I see no reason why they should here.

This is a third planting of corn, there are five varieties here and
all up strong you see. Yes, limas next, both bush and pole. Beyond
you see a space without poles, here we intend placing a section of fence,
for we have a theory that the beans will ripen more evenly, while by
cutting the runners back we will throw the strength into the beans.
Another experiment you see.

Stop here a moment and look over the Farm, then look beyond
to the west and see what it was just nine short months ago. Has the
experiment paid, is it not already proven that the a is productive
though the harvest is not yet?

Come through the orchard and you will see the tomatoes in bloom.
Look, here is one already formed. O, there’s no doubt but that potted
plants pay.

Here are the strawberries. It’s no wonder you are surprised; yes,
they are actually in bloom. Did you ask when they were planted?
Last November. There is the Udo, as happy in America as in Japan,
and there in the seed-bed are the Pe-tsai, Chinese carrots and Sakura-
jima radishes.

Have I given you, my readers, a glimpse of the Farm this first day
of June.

The next day the melons were planted, a furrough run, a big fork-
ful of manure placed in each hill, some earth drawn over and the seed
sown. These are greedy fellows and we felt success would be lacking
for them in unaided new ground. There were four varieties of cante-
lopes and two of watermelons.

Such busy days as the diary now reveals: potatoes and beans to be
sprayed with Bordeaux, lettuce to be cultivated, radishes to be washed,
bunched and shipped to market, Lima beans to be replanted where the
germination was poor, peas hand-cultivated and acre seven horsv-cul-
tivated, a thousand and one things the diary does not reveal, including
photographs by the score. Thus passes a single day.

66

The tomato story in three chapters

67

The evenings busy with books and chemicals, to bed late and to
rise early, but living in the free and open, close to mother earth and
her unparalleled wonders.

the birds were coming—swallows, thrushes, bluebirds, they were
looking for water and well we knew if they found it they would build,
becoming neighbors and benefactors in their destruction of insect life.

Over in the diary among the pines, the Senior Partner found, last
Fall, a stump long and slender and hollowed into a basin. At the time
he thought of a bird bath. Now was the time to fix it.

“Mike, hitch up Texas and go into the dairy and bring in that
stump; we’ll pipe it to-night and have a fountain in the front lawn.”

“Can’t we go too?” came the piping voices of wee ones.

“Of course you may, and Ill go with you for Mike doesn’t know
where it is,” I replied.

The bird bath stump and fountain
68

All that evening by lantern light the plumbers worked, Mike sup-
planting the ’longshoreman, and a wonderful change for the better it
proved to be, for Mike had been trained as a pipe fitter. In fact, he
seems a jack of all trades: cobbler, carpenter, plumber, farmer: that
necessary adjunct to a complete home—a “handy man.” The stump
was set by the flag-staff where on Decoration Day the flag had been
raised on its new pole to half mast. (The American Flag has always
waved at Peace and Plenty.) A very convenient hole in one of the
tap roots admitted of a pipe being run through, while a gas-jet as a
tip threw a fine spray like a fan shaped flame. ‘The stump was inclined
slightly forward, a kerosene barrel, with the bottom knocked out, sunk
at the end of the stump; this filled with large stone received the
drip from the fountain. From our next trip to the beach we returned
ladened with bright pebbles which the children dropped in the foun-
tain bowl to sparkle in the water. In a few days our efforts were re-
warded (if the beauty of it and the trickling sound of water was not
reward enough) for bluebirds came for a bath, then the thrushes, and
later indigo-buntings and yellow warblers, while sparows of many
varieties proceeded at once to build in the trees about the homestead.

On the fourth the State Agricultural Inspector arrived, his sur-
prise at the Farm’s appearance warmed our hearts and inspired us
with new courage and greater determination. We needed the cour-
age for that same day we discovered root magot in Pe-tsai and Sakura-
jima radish. We had wondered why the latter went to blossom while
so small, for at home they grew enormous before sending up the blos-
som stalk. Root magot galore in every last one of them!

“All right sir, we’ll fix you,” we said.

“Ted, take out all those Sakurajima( there was one long row), fork
over the ground well and make a drill in exactly the same place. Ever-
lastingly pour in Canada Wood Ashes, in the bottom of the drill and
we'll plant the Sakurajima right over again in that same spot,” said
the Railroad Farmer. :

‘It will be a tough magot that can live in those ashes sir,” said
Ted. “Guoy! but they do go for my ’ands.”

No magots could stand them and our Sakurajima filled the heart
of even a Jap with delight for he carried one home from the Fair
weighing ten pounds.

With the exodus of the ’longshoreman’s family, came “Shep,” a
cook loaned us to tide over until new help could be procured. We were
somewhat of a family; we four and the stenographer, Ted, Mike, Nettie
and Walter, my faithful maid’s brother of fourteen whom we took
from a home, knowing well the value of a boy this age to “fetch and
carry.”

In a few days, Roger and Sophia, a colored couple of some fifty-
five summers, appeared. Aunt Sophie was a sweet-faced, gray-haired
little bit of a woman, while Uncle Roger was large, rheumatic and
jolly. She was a true Southern cook and gave us loads upon loads
of hot bread and fried things in general. Uncle had always been a

69

porter and didn’t know a hoe from a shovel. The agricultural instinct
is in the race, however, and he soon learned to hill up corn and hoe
potatoes in due and ancient form. In spite of all the modern farm
machinery there is a certain amount of hand labor necessary especial-
ly in new ground.

Peanuts went in early in May, the little Spanish and the huge
Mammoth.

Walter soon learned to gather radishes, assist in transplanting
and made himself generally useful. From the seed-bed were trans-
planted 180 kohl rabi, some of the North China products, and Emerald
Isle kale.

The simple washing-rack and the open air packing-house

Radishes were so abundant it kept one of us busy all day washing
and packing them. Many were sent direct to one of the big restau-
rants, being packed, unbunched, in crates lined with paraffin paper.
1,400 radishes to a crate was the average and each radish perfect of
its type. One of our first resolves and firm compacts was that nothing
but the very best that we could produce should leave the farm. There-
fore from radishes, right through the season, every variety was sorted,
washed or polished according to its needs.

On the seventh of June the shipment reads fifty-five bunches for
a Huntington grocer, 1,400 loose in a crate to a New York restaurant,
and twenty-one bunches each in a paper pot to the “History Makers”
and experts who visited the farm the day the first stump was blown

up.

70

Ted and Walter were set “bushing” peas. We wished to test the
time given to bushing and that to placing a portable wire fence (a
strip of wire fastened to sharpened stakes). Brushing two rows each
one-hundred feet long required one and one-half hours, placing fence
to the same length rows required eight minutes. The wire was neat,
satisfactory and easy to pick from. The bush was stragely, untidy
and almost impossible to pick from, especially if the picker wore long
hair and skirts.

Potato bugs were pestering the life out of us by this time. Wal-
ter picked by hand each morning and strange to say they were worse
on the tomatoes than on the potatoes. John dusted a mixture of Bor-
deaux Paris Green and land plaster dry upon the potatoes and blew
slug shot upon the tomatoes; yet the beetle went merrily on its way
rejoicing.

Some exquisite eggplants from the Huntington grower were set
in the east end of the orchard among the tomato rows where imported
tomatoes had given up the ghost. In twenty-four hours they were so
black with flea beetle you could not detect the color of the leaves.
Hellebore blown on thick seemed to drive them away.

We have a standing joke in our little home town. The assistant
postmaster is an enthusiastic gardener, and above all else he loves an
eggplant. For years he has tried to raise them and never has succeed-
ed in even getting one to set.

“Hello, neighbor,” he called through the post-office window, “I
hear yow’'re goin’ farmin’ out in the scrub oaks.”

“Yep, and we'll raise anything that grows on the temperate zone,”
was the confident rejoinder.

“Bet you don’t,” he replied. “Bet you can’t raise an eggplant.”

“Taken,” cried the enthusiastic one. “Ill send you the finest egg-
plant you ever ate before summer’s over.”

And so flea beetle on those precious plants would never do.

Of course, the mounds about the orchard trees had been leveled in
the early spring, now was the time to give them a mulch of old straw
from the stable, this one not to keep them warm, but to conserve the
moisture about the roots.

Radish seed was planted in every melon hill, scraping the earth
slightly with the foot, dropping a few seed, pushing the soil back and
treading upon it. That sounds like a shiftless way to plant, does it not?
but this was only a guardian crop; they break the ground, germinating
in a few days, also the flea beetle loves radish leaves much better than
melon leaves, and feasts upon the latter only when the former are not
to be found.

The spinach patches being virtually a failure, Walter was sent
over them to pick some for home use, then Ted sowed Canada wood
ashes preparatory to cultivating for a new crop of a different type.

The ashes remind me of an incident of the early summer. The
high-chief-boss farmer had just gone over to Thanksgiving Cottage to
dinner, when Mike appeared, saying:

71

“They a man over there want see you, Mr. Fuller’.”

“Well, tell him to make himself at home and I'll be there in a
minute.”

Mike returned very promptly, saying: “He say he can’t wait, very
important.”

“Tell him to come over here then, I’m going to finish this meal as
quick as I can and get back to work.”

The gentleman appeared, begging profuse apologies and saying
he was from the State Department sent to analyze our fertilizers.

“You’ve an easy job, neighbor,” said the Senior Partner, “better
sit down and join me in my frugal meal. We haven’t any fertilizer but
good old stable manure.”

“That’s a pretty story all right, Mr. Fullerton, but everyone knows
you couldn’t make a place look like this without chemical fertilizer,”
he replied.

“Tt’s a fact, nevertheless. Why, man alive, this is virgin soil, what
does it want with chemical fertilizers? I wouldn’t have used manure
if it had not been burned over so many years. All this land needs is
humus.”

By this time they had gone out upon the farm and were joined by
another gentleman, a companion to the first.

The spokesman said:

“Mr. Fullerton claims he has used no commercial fertilizer, Jim.”

Whereupon “Jim” asked:

“What are all those bags in the barn then, Mr. Fullerton?” And
it was said with a tone of voice that implied that the Railroad Farmer
was caught “dead to rights” this time.

“Canada wood ashes, help yourselves. Take a whole bag with
you and analyze it if you desire.”

They went to the barn and soon were thoroughly convinced it
was wood ashes pure and simple.

“Mike, bring me that bag of nitrate of soda.”

“This, gentlemen, is the only thing in the nature of a chemical
fertilizer that I shall use this year and I got this only as a hastener
for lettuce, celery and endive. This is one of the farm’s best assets.”
And he showed them out behind the barn a tarred kerosene barrel
sunk beside the stalls; raising the lid disclosed all the liquid stable
waste.

“This is as good as nitrate and costs nothing,’ he further ex-
plained.

The experts went away after more carefully inspecting the crops,
fully convinced that our point was well taken and Saying:

“Well, those fellows down in the village will be mightily disap-
pointed when they see us, for they were sure you had some special
brand of fertilizer and we told them we could find out all about it.
But we’ve nothing to say. Aren’t you ever going to use fertilizer, Mr.
Fullerton?”

“Bless your souls, yes. Didn’t I use fertilizer when I plowed

12

that rye under? Next fall I am going to put on about ten tons to
the acre of manure again and I am going to turn under crimson clover,
vetch and rye on every square foot I can get planted. Then I shall
‘use lime for a sweetener for we can now afford the lime a little time
to work. Next summer when I am putting in a second and third crop
on the same ground I shall probably use blood and bone or bone meal.
Don’t misunderstand me, I think chemical fertilizers are bully for old
worn out land, but it would be like ‘carrying coals to Newcastle’ to put
it on this virgin soil. The craze for chemical fertilizers has gone too
far. There are places where they have put it on so heavy (with the
theory that if one ton is good two tons will be better) that they have
chemical laboratories, not farms. All chemical fertilizer is ‘lazy
man’s way,’ he claims he will not have weeds so will save cultivation.
Weeds are the farmer’s best friends, they force him to cultivate, and
lack of cultivation is the crime of modern farming. If they’ll pile
some old manure on that ground now and so liberate through decompo-
sition the various component parts of the chemical fertilizers, they will
have farms again.”

“We're glad to hear you speak that way Mr. Fullerton, for the
fertilizer men all thought you were down on them and felt pretty sore
about it.”

“Give them my love and tell them they are the best thing that
ever happened only they are working the game the wrong way. They
think by selling a man two tons where he needs one they are doing
great work. Let them study the subject and give the farmer real help
even if they only sell him half a ton, they’ll be much better off in the
end and the farmers will swear by them, instead of at them as their
crops run lower and lower.

“Youre right, Mr. Fullerton, we’re glad we came,” as they swung
on the train.

Teddy and the
“baby”

By the eleventh of June the radishes were so well gathered, sweet
corn was planted in every third row (radishes had been planted:
eighteen inches apart), while Ted with the Planet Jr., cultivated all of
acre number three in the afternoon. These little hand implements are
wonderful time savers, two sides of a row are cultivated in the time
it takes to walk down a row; in the new ground it took longer, for
sometimes huckleberry roots would check the progress, but as time
permitted, all the rows were raked after cultivating, which gave the
land a much cleaner appearance. In fact, the rakes attached to the
cultivator make about the best tool imaginable for this work. Ted
always called it “his baby” and went whistling down the rows, cover-
ing the ground in truly remarkable time. Even Uncle Roger got so
he could push one after his slow fashion, while we would see Aunt
Sophie steal from the kitchen and run him a race with one across the
field.

“You’all makes me tired goin’ so slow wid dat ting, why don’t you
git along.”

“Haw! haw! haw! You tink I’m a spring chicken, don’ you know
I got de rheumatis powerful bad? Go wan!”

The spinach patch on acre number three was ready for Mike and
the horses. It did not need plowing so he went over it with the horse
cultivator five times, with the leveler three times, then raked it, drag-
ging the fine roots to the road and finally gave it a good rolling, leav-
ing the plot in perfect condition. This latter operation is one that is
seldom attempted in farm work. After cultivating, the soil is left
in so porous a condition the roots do not get a firm hold until rains
have flattened it well. Ted and John came right along with the seed
drill and in two hours had the entire patch planted with onions, car-
rots, peas, beans and sugar beets, seventy-six rows each 127 feet long.
The rows were as straight as a die, the drill did not check once, in
fact, no one-hundred-year old farm could produce a plot in better seed
bed condition, and this was not yet a yearling.

Green and wax
beans, a second
crop on this plot
and a marked
success

74

This planting of peas and beans was the third one of each. The
first planting of peas you will remember ws saw on our walk to the
dairy. They matured very early, were extremely dwarf and the vines
yellowed badly. It puzzled us much to know the cause. We irrigated
(which no doubt saved their lives during the drought of May) and we
wood-ashed them. The second planting on acre number seven were tal-
ler but started to yellow also.

“Well it beats me,” said the Farmer, “what do you suppose makes
it? There is a patch in the middle perfectly normal, tall, green and
luxuriant.”

“Phat’s where a bonfire was last fall,” I rejoined. “Don’t you think
they need more ashes?”

“We've put more ashes on them. Don’t you remember? I had
John sow them last week?”

“Yes, but maybe they need it underneath; let’s plant more down
on the spinach patch and give them a good dose of it.”

“All right, I'll go you,” was the rejoinder.

This crop was entirely satisfactory, the soil had been heavily sown
with ashes, and when the peas were about four inches high, more
ashes were sown along the rows, then the little Planet Jr. plow at-
tachment was run through, hilling the vines up well. The crop was.
abundant and of high quality.

Beans had been one of our greatest disappointments; we knew
well their susceptibility to anthracnose (so-called bean rust), and to
guard against it had sprayed them with Bordeaux. The vines were
superb, laden with pods and almost ready to gather; in a night they
were gone with the dread disease. Those next to the house, by the
tower, were the first to go. A second application of Bordeaux on the
second planting, acre number seven, was promptly made, but it did not
save the crop. Therefore beans went in beside the peas with a firm
resolve to spray them the minute they appeared above ground. In six
days they appeared.

“John, those beans are up and you want to get Bordeaux on them
at once.”

“All right sir, shall I use it dry?”

“Not on your life! Use it wet and soak ’em for fair. I’m going
to have some good beans off this place if it takes a leg.”

In six more days they were wood-ashed and hilled-up like the
peas; in another two weeks they were Bordeauxed again. The yield
was perfect; beans in abundance, and while the other plantings had
received as many applications of Bordeaux, we feel they need it when
very small as this disease must be prevented; it cannot be cured. This
patch one hundred and twenty-seven feet long and twenty-nine feet
wide, yielded twelve and one-half bushels of stringless and wax beans.

Potato bugs and flea beetle were still making lace of potatoes and
tomatoes while the cabbage worm was keeping us very busy as well.

By the fourteenth of June we women folk were picking peas for
shipment, while Mike was preparing acre number ten for sweet pota-

e

75

Preparing for sweet potatoes

toes. It required much cultivating and leveling to get it into any-
thing like shipshape condition. Ted was cultivating lettuce and weed-
ing the strawberries.

“Mother, what shall we do?” came small voices.

“Help us pick peas, won’t you?” I answered.

“O yes, Ill help,” said Hope and she promptly sat down in the
patch and proceeded to eat all she could reach. “That’s great help-
ing,” I said, “the guests at the French restaurant will enjoy those.”

“O well, never mind, mother, he can have the ‘fatty, fatty, boom-
a-latties’ and I will eat the ‘petit pois.’ They are sweetest,” said the
connoisseur just turned seven.

“Look, mammy, ain’t I a helper?” piped the four-year old. An
apron full of big ones disclosed her efforts, but then she does not care
for peas either raw or cooked.

That night the plants arrived. Sweet potatoes, cauliflower, Brus-
sels sprouts, tomatoes, celery and lettuce from Maryland. They were
taken from the basket carriers, spread upon the cellar earth floor, and
thoroughly sprinkled.

The next day was very hot and the ground exceptionally dry. Mike
took Texas out and plowed up ridges for the sweet potatoes. They are
always planted in this way for they love dry soil and must never have
water stand on the roots; besides when so planted the vines are more
easily raised to check rooting at each vine joint. Uncle followed, rak-
ing off roots while John and Ted planted, Walter helping. <A dibble

76

hole was made, Walter filled it with water and dropped a plant; Mike
came after, setting them. A long hose attached to a standard at the
center road and run across the fields, gave them water right at hand
_-score number two for the irrigation system—while the same trick
later gave them water handy for mixing fungicides and insecticides to
be applied in the far fields.

Setting out sweet
potato vines

A bucket of water to which had been added a cupful of oatmeal
and a sliced lemon, to remove the flat taste, was kept there for drink-
ing purposes. Frequent drinks on hot days are necessary, but the
stomach must be kept active lest the blood rush to the head. The
oatmeal water keeps the stomach in just the proper condition. It
does not look pretty to drink, and some of them at first refused it. I
noticed, however, every hot day thereafter came the request for oat-
meal-water.

On that same day the diary says:

“Grasshoppers appeared to sit upon the sweet tater vine. Tur-
keys now the only thing lacking.”

That day about 3,500 sweet potato plants went out. The next day
dawned with warm heavy showers; the men worked as best they could
between them finishing the sweets, while Mike cultivated fodder corn.
In the afternoon John and Ted set out 1,800 celeriac on acre number
one by the house and in the seed bed swale, and about 400 tomatoes
in the orchard, again filling up gaps. The plants were all fair looking
specimens but none equal to home-grown. Still we had no choice;
plants we had to have and we could not grow them ourselves, there-
fore after much study we ordered from a firm considered the largest
and best in the country. Alas for the day these plants touched the
place as future history will show.

The Brussels sprouts were the saddest-looking of all the plants;
the leaves were yellowing in spite of frequent waterings, and this was
Saturday.

Mike came to Mr. Fullerton and said in a whisper:

“T get up early to-morrow and plant those sprouts. I no believe in

17

work Sunday but can’t be help, those sprouts must be plant or they
die.”

“All right, Mike. I am glad you spoke, for Mrs. Fullerton and I
were going to do it ourselves anyhow. You're right, they’ll die if they
don’t go in to-morrow.”

This is one of the worst features of buying plants, they come all
in a lump regardless of order, regardless of whether you are ready for
them, regardless of weather conditions or the time of week. Having
your own plants in your own seed bed they can be transplanted when
conditions are favorable.

We made a little motto for ourselves this year.

“Raise your own plants even if you cover only half your acreage,
it will pay.”

The sprouts went in on a Sunday morning and the day should have
cleansed them of all their sins. Alas, it took but a few weeks to show
us they might better have lain and died upon the cellar floor. Black
rot and cabbage louse were rampant upon them. And the celeriac?
Covered with blight.

The next week one of our neighbors dropped in to see us and he
said:

“Three years ago I did not have time to sow any celery seed so I
ordered some plants from a Maryland firm. They were pretty poor
specimens of celery all right and soon developed celery blight and do
you know it is in my ground so now I can’t raise celery without an
awful fight.”

“Oh neighbor, neighbor, if we had only known! Ours came from
the same place and we not only have celery blight but cabbage louse
and black rot, and it is spreading over the whole farm at a most ap-
palling rate.”

“Tt’s a crime!” I exclaimed. “Why does the Government allow it,
when no nursery is allowed to send out stock unless it is inspected.
This is worse than San Jose scale. It means bankruptcy.”

“Why, I’ve heard since that these big growers’ places have been
infected for years and they can’t grow a thing to maturity. But what
do they care, the seedlings don’t show it and its too much trouble to
spray,” said our neighbor.

“Tt’s a burning shame,” I said. ‘A brand new place like this coy-
ered with blight the first year!”

“Well, if spraying and hand picking will check it,” said the Senior
Partner,“ it won’t get into the soil. And if hard and persistent work
will prevent it, I am sure our beloved ‘Peace and Plenty’ will be ex-
empt from further trouble.

June twenty-sixth saw seventy-seven heads of lettuce off for New
York, crisp, firm, fresh and delicious, packed in paraffin paper ready
to be eaten the same day. That’s what New York needs, fresh vege-
tables that have not- been on the road a week.

Our own cauliflower and cabbage seedlings in the seed-bed were

Radishes,
Lettuce and Peas

well along by this time. They were planted June fourth and were
making sturdy growth for a late crop. Cabbage worms were after
them however, so Paris Green and Bordeaux were kept upon them.
Frequent cultivatings with the Planet Jr. (Ted loved to run through
them just before he put the implement away) kept them growing stead-
ily and helped develop a fine root system.

Some pigs had been ordered in the early summer, but failed to ar-
rive. We knew their value as consumers of refuse and providers of
fertilizer, besides making a good winter provision. One (a chester
white) out of the four finally arrived on the twenty-third and was
promptly named “Eventually.” A week later a black Berkshire came
and being promised to the wee one she named her “Violet.” These
seemed all the dealer could procure for us so our good friend of the
apple orchard sent two Poland Chinas. Hope named hers “Rosebud,”
while mine assumed the name of “Ceedee” in honor of our good friend.

Early peas were taken out on the twenty-eighth and Mike pre-
pared the patch in the same manner as he pursued with the spinach
patch. The pea vines by the way were put into the compost heap, for
this is one of the plants well worth saving, giving back its accumulated
nitrogen as it decomposes. Had conditions permitted the vines would
have been plowed under, but the ground was too rough for that.

Celery was planted on a portion of the space while endive and
turnips occupied the balance. Endive was planted again because the
first sowing, lacking sufficient cultivation, had run up to seed. Three
men and a rheumatic on thirteen acres. We should have had a man
to the acre to handle the crops properly. A pretty expensive proposi-
tion vou will say; not for a market gardener who raises three and four
crops a year on every inch of ground. Ask any good one and see.
You will say, “Well, why didn’t you have them if you needed them.”
For two reasons, we had no shelter and we were proving what a man

79

could do with a small amount of help, and just as the other man would
find, some things would be left undone.

Lettuce and beans or peas were being shipped daily now. Im-
perfect heads, or those not quite hard enough for market were sent to
Hospitals, Y. M. C. A.’s and the Sunshine Society.

Ted found time in the evenings to work on the shower bath we had
long intended for the men. <A space beside the engine was partitioned
off, cement floor laid on a slant, pipe connections made and a spray at-
tached. This was thoroughly enjoyed by the Englishman, but Italian
and American natures seemed to “dodge.”

The last day of June found us preparing to fill acre eight with
cabbage and cauliflower from our own seed bed. July first fell on
Sunday, a second one destined to be a work day. Early morning in-
spection showed the cabbage so full of worms we were afraid to leave
them until morning, so faithful Mike, who knew the danger as well
as we, “passed” them with Paris Green. It took us some time to quite
understand this phrase of his:

“Mr. Fuller’ I think best I pass cauliflower to-morrow, what you
think—of course you boss,” with a shrug of the shoulders.

We finally gathered that he wished to spray the cauliflower.

The last time I saw him I said:

“Mike, how’s the cauliflower?”

“My gaw! Miss Fuller’ I pass them eleven time and they no good,
I never see such worms.” And his eyes snapped with true Italian fire.

This same Sunday night more plants arrived from the South.

All hands and the family ‘“‘got busy"
80

“T don’t dare look at them,” I said. “Of all the times of year
to travel these past three hothouse days are the worst. They must
all be dead.”

And a sorry looking sight they were; celery, more sweet potatoes
and late cabbage. These plants had been ordered of a Long Island
nurseryman who said he could supply us. Irony of fate! They were
from the same Maryland grower!

The following day foreboded rain so the entire farm turned out
to plant. By no means least among the number were the wee ones.
The procession moved like this; Mike and Buckeye making a furrow,
Ted following drawing a plank to smooth the top a bit, Uncle Roger
making dibble holes, John and Walter sorting out the plants that
might possibly grow, Hope with a basket of plants upon her arm drop-
ping one at each hole, Eleanor placing the plant in the hole and Mike
coming after and firming them, the Junior Partner marking each row,
while the Senior Partner with a camera made the scene a part of his-
tory. It was hard work but many hands made it light, while good will
and bantering fun made the time seem shorter. As a test of speed,
Mike, Walter, Hope and Nettie planted 498 drumhead cabbage in
twenty-five minutes. The small ones grew pretty tired but did not de-
sert until the last plant was in. Rain came and we were all glad the
good work had been accomplished.

Blight was spreading fast, aided and abetted by continued damp,
warm weather. It kept two men busy “passing” the various crops.

On the third, melons were ready to be thinned and radishes pulled
from the hills. They had fulfilled their mission and strange to relate
inany were still in fine marketable condition; from the field we sorted
1,200 as fine as heart could desire.

Flag-raising on the
glorious Fourth

81

The fourth could not pass without some celebration and a case of
fireworks made the little ones long for evening. Big ones enjoyed
the day as it passed. A diminutive cannon gave the grown up boys
much pleasure and the national salute of twenty-one guns was given
to the surrounding hills.

The day after the

glorious Fourth

Target practise has always been our “fourth” habit, for I think a
woman should know how to shoot as well as a man. A target was
placed in the swale to the south of the barn, we took our turns using
revolvers. Mike and I took honors while for the sake of my sex I must
say I led, but the shots showed all of us would have “winged our
man.” Shot guns followed, firing at a can thrown in the air, that
weapon is not to my liking so I withdrew before I lost prestige. Mike
is a fine shot, while Ted followed a close second. Old Uncle had a

Early, big andj solid solid;
_one of the triumphs phs of
the virgin soil

glorious time but most of his shots went wild. I have no doubt the
contest was a good thing; the melon patch was let severely alone. The
evening’s display was a delight to all and although our neighbors had
been invited, but few appeared.

On the sixth, crops began coming in in earnest, early cabbage and
young carrots were added to the list.

There are days with the best of us when everything goes “dead
wrong.” The ninth of July was one such with the Railroad Farmer.
Everything was dead wrong from the time he arose; when a young
chicken having escaped from the chicken yard got into the seed-bed,
that was the “dead wrongest.” A dive for the chicken, a catch of the
foot in some huckleberry roots and the Farmer lay prone. The knee
had been wrenched and then began three months of limping and ban-
daging; a sad and unfortunate mishap in the midst of such a strenuous
season. No amount of persuasion would keep him quiet and as the
limp grew worse the children dubbed him:

“Old Mr. Micklejohn, had a leg of hickory on.”

Several days later Aunt Sophie, who had been steadily growing
lazier, about decided she had had enough of country life, so, much to
Uncle Roger’s disgust, we sent them back to the city.

“Why I’s just gettin’ my hand in boss and I likes it powerful; but
Sophie she always does this yere way.”

Three weeks followed in which but for Nettie’s willing help I
should have been in a bad way, for no cook could be procured.

Cabbage louse was tormenting the life out of us, spreading day
by day, from sprouts to cabbage, from cabbage to cauliflower, kale and
kohl rabi until it seemed as though nothing would stop them. Their
natural enemy is the ladybug’s child, they help man keep the fuzzy
louse down. But ladybugs were very scarce this year.

Eleanor and I were walking down the middle road one afternoon
when a ladybug happened to light on her stocking. She looked down
and said in her sweet baby voice:

“Why you cunning thing, do you think I have aphis on me?”
Their love of benign and animosity toward malign insects is very
strong.

We tried tobacco tea for the louse (really an aphis covered with
a grayish hairy substance), dry powdered tobacco, slug shot, Bordeaux,
Paris Green and land plaster mixed, but nothing seemed to affect them.
Won’t some good chemist invent something to kill them? We are be-
ginning to feel that the soil should be poisoned, for nearly all these in-
sects come from the ground.

We had a most delightful call about the middle of July from a
United States forester. He put new heart into us by confirming our
use of manure and wood ashes and saying we had the finest garden soil
he had ever seen.

“Mr. Fullerton, if I should make soil with everything I could want
to do it with, I could not equal your natural composition here. Man
could not make such drainage, or loam in such ideal proportions of

clay and sand as you have here. I had no idea Long Island was such
a wonderful spot. As for its trees I am simply carried away. Never in
all my travels have I seen such clumps of second growth chestnut. If
you had told me there were groups of seven and eight all a foot to a
foot and a half through, I would not have believed you.”

“Our trees themselves are not only wonderful to me, but the vast
variety is astounding. Years ago the sea captains brought home trees
and shrubs from foreign ports and many of them are now native to the
Island. I know a forest of Japan maples, swamps where magnolia tri-
folia grow, while foreign evergreens seem especially happy here,” re-
plied “Mr. Micklejohn.”

Upon further examination of cabbage and cauliflower affected by
blight, we found in nine cases out of ten root magot had been at work.
This pest is a difficult one to fight, but bisulphide of carbon injected by
the root will kill them, while sulphur or wood ashes in the drill will
keep them out. I must confess we felt better, I would much rather fight
an insect than a disease any day.

Lettuce was ready to come out, it had been an interesting crop,
full of failures. The majority of transplanted plants went up to seed.
In drills they headed beautifully, teaching us the lesson that they must
be thinned severely and kept cultivated while young, that without irri-
gation during dry weather it is useless to try to grow it.

One of the results
of irrigation

“But gee whiz, it’s hard to thin it enough,” said the book farmer,
“T believe every seed sown came up.”
84

“Excuse me, Mr. Fullerton,” said Ted, “But at ome we bake alf
the seed before we plant it.”

“Bake it, what for?”

“So it can’t come up sir,” he replied. “Then it isn’t so thick.”

“Good scheme Ted, we’ll just about try it next year.” And the more
we have planted the more we are convinced that such things as lettuce,
endive, beets, turnips and in fact any crop needing thinning should
have half the seed “baked.”

Of all the varieties we tried, the “Golden Queen” suited us best.
Brilliant in color, golden of heart, solid, crisp and mild flavored, while
its tenderness exceeded any lettuce I have ever eaten. As the Far-
mer says “Big Boston isn’t in it.”

On a small irregular shaped plot near the well, beans had come out
as well as lettuce and the bean vines had been burned some time ago,
anthracnose was too dangerous to have around. A small amount of
manure was spread because being near the tower some soil from the
well had been spread upon it; this soil came from too great a depth to
be productive. Wood ashes followed the manure, and Mike prepared
the ground to receive summer radishes where the lettuce had been and
summer lettuce where the beans had been.

John drilled them in, and when the lettuce appeared one variety
looked more like turnips than lettuce, further growth disclosed the
fact it was turnip; a mixed seed from a reputable firm and out of a
sealed package. Thus does the farmer labor against great odds.

With the exodus of Aunt Sophie and Uncle Roger, we were left
with but three hands and crops coming in faster and bugs growing
thicker every day.

Home-hamper fillers

On the eighteenth Dynamiter Kissam came again, for it had been
decided to clear the remainder of the dairy. We had proof enough of
the utter futility of the ancient method. The Dynamiter’s appearance

85

"A beauty blow®

and trunk split

AGRICULTURAL DYNAMITING

86

necessitated Italian help for him. The sprouts had grown so vigorous-
ly during the summer, one would not have dreamed the land had been
burned over last Fall. Then, too, manure for the dairy and farm was
coming, as at this time of year it could be purchased at sixty cents
a ton. This, of course, had to be unloaded. Mike succeeded in get-
ting two Italians who proved on their arrival not to be agriculturists
but Neapolitans. They marched up to our wash-stand by the tower,
helped themselves to a glass of water and proceeded to Thanksgiving
Cottage for dinner.

Lime for Fall use had arrivied, and they were first set to unloading
it and protecting it from rain storms; then into the dairy to pile stumps

i”
main So zs

Ancient ‘“ Wait and Want” method too extravagant

for Dynamiter Kissam, who, working alone, had blown one hundred
the first day, having prepared the charges the day before. The Ital-
ians went to the “Port” Saturday for food. Sunday they returned
rigged out in most gorgeous style saying as their cousin had died they
were about to return to Italy. They of course struck for pay for Sat-
urday afternoon (having left on the noon train) but a good dose of Mex-
ican Spanish, interpreted by Mike into Italian, soon made them under-
stand that would not work.

“Mike, were you afraid they would draw on you? That big fellow
probably had a couple of knives in those high boots,” said the farmer.

“O no, Mr. Fuller’, I not afraid; I had three year Italian fencing
school. They know me.”

87

The nineteenth was marked in many ways. First and foremost
we picked the first tomato, a beautiful large smooth Earliest Pink, and
the first cauliflower; both, of course, went to the Fairy Godfather. A
quantity of rhubarb was planted, having been sent from some section
of the road where improvements had extended into a West End market-
garden, and we packed our first “home hamper.”

The "Home-hamper"

lor years the Railroad Farmer has been convinced that there is a
ready market for produce shipped direct to the consumer. A crate
or hamper filled with vegetables in season was his idea. He has never
been able to persuade a farmer to try it. “Oh, it would be so much
extra work,” they would say.

“Yes, but you get the extra pay,” he would reply.

“Well, I know, but I guess it wouldn’t be worth while.” Here at
last was a chance to try the scheme himself. A crate holding six three-
quart baskets was selected. The three baskets in the bottom contained
beets, newly dug potatoes (the kind you can eat boiled in the skin) and
cabbage. A partition over these and the top three contained peas, let-
tuce and cucumbers in one box, young carrots and young onions in the
third box.

As a test for this package they were shipped to friends with the
urgent request for criticism. This criticism usually came in the re-

88

quest for more, although many friends helped us with the suggestion
_that tomatoes be packed tight and that peas and beans be wrapped in
paper as they spilled through the crate.

Mike had brought his wife to cook for us. She is a delicate color-
ed woman with some Indian blood in her veins. She has six chil-
dren; one a baby of six months, the oldest fourteen years, and she is
twenty-eight. She was too sick to work, therefore after having a doc-
tor see and prescribe for her, I sent her home with strict injunctions
to rest all she possibly could.

A regular cloud-burst occurred on the twenty-first with sharp
lightning and heavy thunder near by. We dreaded lest all the corn
be knocked flat, especially the fodder corn which was becoming, to-
gether with the alfalfa, the pride of our hearts. Thank fortune little
damage was done.

The potatoes’ growth was bothering us considerably. Some varie-
ties were extremely dwarf and turning brown early. There was no
sign of blight which puzzled us all the more. We went into the field
taking up hills here and there and found many of the potatoes
scarred but without any apparent cause for it.

Finally reward came. One potato stuck full of huckleberry roots
proved to our satisfaction that this was the cause of the scars. The
“State of Maine,” the last to be dug, was the first to bloom, while the
“Extra Earlies” were the last to bloom. Queer things potatoes! Uncle
Gideon’s Quick Lunch suited us very well. We dug some on July
twenty-third, finding them medium sized, nearly round, shallow-eyed,
flecked with carmine and a delicious “eater.” At this season forty
feet yielded one peck which weighed twenty-four pounds. That would
make them weigh ninety-six pounds per bushel. Some day all vege-
tables, fruits and eggs will be sold by the pound. I hope the day is
not far distant for that is the rational method. Weigh one dozen
measly store eggs against a dozen fine fresh ones and you will see
where the buyer would have the advantage. The “Extra Earlies” gave
a greater yield but were not nearly so fine either in appearance, shape
or flavor.

Almost every day after this saw a “home hamper” going on a
mission.

Kary in June or just after the bird bath had been placed, we “doc-
tored” the lawn a little. In patches it was still bare, so Ted raked
them over, then rolled the entire lawn. Again raking it he sowed
more seed and rolled a second time. The sprayers were started im-
mediately, and by the twenty-seventh the song of the lawn-mower was
heard in the wilderness. As pretty a lawn with a goodly showing of
white clover had been procured as many sections could show at the end
of two years.

Mike succeeded in getting three agricultural Italians at last. One
had been on the section gang passing the farm every day all the season
and had become much interested in it; one came from “Easter New
Yorker,” a young fellow whose father had been a farmer; while the

89

In ten months the lawn-mower’s song was heard

third had been for some time with neighbor Tesla at his “wireless”
station. Their names were Antonio Bignoni, Martino Luliccio and
Pedro Centro.

They made for themselves a bunk in the workshop and a cook
house along the eastern fence. They are quiet, content, polite and
faithful, and are still with us. They learn quickly and after once being
shown a thing can be trusted to do it alone.

There were times when we were glad to borrow them from the
dairy, for the entire farm needed cultivation, while picking could under
no circumstances be neglected.

For the twenty-eighth the diary says:

“The entire farm is this day thoroughly cultivated”; and as that
was Saturday, a sense of rest naturally pervaded the entire farm
family. In fact one of the things that struck me most forcibly this
summer was everyone’s enjoyment of Saturday afternoon after mid-
summer. No picking and packing to attend to, just getting to rights
for the Sabbath and cultivating the crops that everyone had been
aching to get at for days. There were no Saturday half holidays and
there were no kicks.

Rainy days were always filled clearing the barn and shops, putting
together crates and doing indoor work, often these chores were saved
for a rainy spell and many times the buildings looked neglected and

90

uncared for, but we knew their turn would come in good season.

At the end of July invitations went to the same “history makers”
and experts who visited the farm on its first blasting day. They went
in the form of a “home hamper” and a call to come and see the vege-

“Scrub Oak’’ Vegetables—The Invitation
tables growing. August seventh was set as the date, eleven months
and a day from their last visit, when they had begged us not to at-
tempt the problem.

A hint from the diary for August first is as follows:

“ We picked and packed one bushel of wax and three-quarters of a
bushel of green pod stringless beans, bautiful in color and form, and
so tender and brittle it was difficult to handle them.” Well I remem-
ber them for they were the first pick from the third planting and we
were grateful that we had persisted in our efforts to grow them free
from disease.

That same day we had a flying visit from a member of the New
York City Board of Education. He came, he said, because he could not
credit the stories he had heard of such marvelous development in so
short a time. He frankly confessed as he went over the farm that it
was almost beyond the powers of conception to realize that eleven
months before the place was in its primeval state.

And truly it was a sight during August. Such wealth of growth,
such a variety of vegetation one seldom sees.

A three days’ rain from the northeast in the first part of this
month gave us opportunity of doing many small indoor jobs. Seed
boxes were made, more crates put together, engine room straightened
out, baskets piled and between showers wire stripping put up for berry
and grape vines. But at the end of the third day “Mike cultivated the

91

ay
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:

Assorted ‘“‘succotash”’

pea patch on acre number three, John drilled in red top and Aberdeen
turnips, Ted cut the lawn and trimmed up borders,” which shows what
a truly remarkable soil this is.

The sixth was spent in preparing for the morrow’s distinguished
visitors. The day being clear, they were to feast in the open upon the
farm products. Ted also drilled in some spinach between the rows of
corn on acre number two, the “intensive plot.” This was the fourth
crop on this land in one year without fertilization. ‘“There’s many a
slip ’twixt the cup and lip,’ however, and county fairs claimed our at-
tention to such an extent during September that this fourth crop did
but fairly well during the six weeks’ drought of this Fall.

The seventh was “made a purpose for us.” Warm, west wind,
overcast, just the day to make city bound men glad to be in the coun-
try. Our guests arrived at noon; a short survey of the farm from the
house plot and they sat down to dinner on the lawn by the fountain
under the shade of our rescued trees. I give you pictorially the menu
and I can assure you I never saw men enjoy a meal more. Ten vege-
tables, all from the land they had been afraid to have us go into a few
months before.

If I may take you with us again after dinner on a tour of the farm
I will try to show you what they beheld.

92

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The Menu

The lawn more beautiful than ever, while oxalis in bloom about
the trees, roses, sweet peas and coboeas and other vines climbing upon
the fence, porch and tower; gladiolus in clumps and the nasturtium
root pile a blaze of gorgeous blossoms. Bulbous begonias in riotous
bloom opposite the tank tower and outdoor wash-stand where “root

The bulbous
begonia bed

antlers” serve as a tool rack, past the house and government plot to
the turn in the drive. Along the chicken yard fence rich red gladioli
are in their prime, attracting a flock of humming birds, while the vege-
table flower garden shows scarlet runners, cardoon of tropical growth,

The chicken yard’s Gladioli Hedge
4

and peppers that I doubt can be excelled anywhere, and borage, self-
sown, in bloom of blue.

Summer radishes, including Sakurajima

The summer radishes and lettuce are thriving remarkably, while
corn is in tassel beside the cottages.

The littlest girl and a big cabbage

Beets with their rich foliage, erratic onions (which by the way
several were delighted to help themselves to) and cabbage. Let us
pause here a moment. Mike had brought one in during dinner
measuring with its leaves still on, forty-two inches in diameter. The ex-
clamation arose, “How did you do it Fullerton? You certainly must
have sat up nights with that fellow!’

“There are plenty more in the field,” he replied, but they were
hardly convinced.

A bit of the early cabbage patch

Here before us is a patch containing many of equal size, while the
entire growth is way above the average.

“My goodness how did you raise those melons?” broke from one
of the party. “I never saw such a set in my life. I’m coming out again
when they’re ripe.”

“The prophecy is they will not be sweet because the soil is a little
heavy,” said the “show guide.” “But if they are any good I see our
finish trying to pick and ship them.”

“You'll have your hands full all right,” they replied.

Potatoes, carrots, beans, peas, parsnips, cauliflower, salsify,
sprouts, all on the way to the dairy, called forth applause.

“By jingo, Fullerton, that’s alfalfa, isn’t it?” exclaimed one who is
considered one of the best alfalfa experts in the United States. “You
don’t mean to tell me you planted that this year.”

“Yes sir, the first day of June.” “What do you think of it?” the
farmer asked.

96

aa

A big set of melons

“Think of it! Why it’s the best I have ever seen, no matter of
what age. Why man alive that’s here to stay and the bacteria are at
work all right, all right.” “Golly this part,” as we walked toward the
top dressed quarter, “knocks the stuffin’ out of anything else I have
ever seen. How did you do it?”

“Had the soil alkali,” replied the book farmer, “and we didn’t
guess about it either, we took a very small piece of litmus paper and a
handful of soil and found out.”

“Well sir, you’ve done the best and biggest thing that has been
done for the Eastern States in many a year,” replied another.

Here to the left is teosinte, a new crop to some of them and one
that called forth much admiration. Its broad leaves, shortness of
stalk and luxuriant growth appealed to any man interested in silage.

And the millet, which had been a light green sea of beauty all
the season was now shoulder high and blossoming with a soft long
brown “bull-rush-like” tassel. This field showed more plainly than
any other spot on the whole cleared acreage, where the bonfires had

97

Japanese barn-yard millet

98

been; not only did it show the effects of the ashes in height, but in
density of color.

The field of fodder corn calls for further exclamations.

“Fullerton, that’s the best corn I’ve seen this season,” said one
guest who travels much in the interest of agriculture. “What did you
leave so many stalks to the hill for.”

“This was planted for fodder old man, but ‘Pennsy millions’ failed
to buy us time enough to get a silo up in which to put it, so I had to
let it grow,” answered the Senior Partner.

“That sorghum is no slouch either,” replied another.

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A big blow close by

“Gee whillicans!” exclaimed a third, “where did you get this?” as
we came to the Virginia horse tooth. “Man alive you must think this
is Kentucky. How high do you suppose that is?” as he went up to
measure it.

“A good twelve feet,” said one, “you’re a bean pole yourself and
you look like an infant in there.”

(Man language is often more forceful than complimentary.)

‘What will that be when it’s done? Why this is only early August,
it has another good two months yet,” said a third.

“We're hoping for sixteen feet and to be able to mature it,” said I.

99

White Flint field com

Teosinte

THREE VALUABLE FODDER CROPS

100

‘Well, you have a record now,” was the reply, “no matter what
happens to it in the future.”

“Dynamiter Kissam is working here and he’ll blow a few stumps
and some trees for you if you want,” said the farmer. “There’s a good
big chestnut six feet through and he will blow it by battery.”

“Oh, please mayn’t I?” I exclaimed, and womanlike, I had my
way. My but it was a ‘beauty blow’ (that’s technical). She came out
clean, and pieces went way over into the corn.

- “We're going to take out some of those pines, we want a few as
shade apology for the cattle, but these three extend too far east.

“Are you ready Charles?” he called.

“Fire!” came the reply and twelve feet up into the air flew the
tree, root and all, and falling split through the center.

“There you are,” said the wise one, “land cleared and wood split
all for ten cents.

“How much dynamite did it take?” asked one.

“A half a pound,” was the reply, “and time enough to affix the cap
and charge the stump.”

“Are you going to clear number two the same way, Mr. Fuller-
ton?” asked one guest.

“Ten acres are cleared, the dynamiter has just come over from
there,” he replied.

“How many acres have you in that piece?”

“Kighty. It was the smallest we could buy. Ten of it will be
market-garden and for the seventy we are considering a plan to re-
forest and grow railroad timber. A twenty-foot fire strip to check the
annual burn-over permitted by thoughtless or careless owners, will
be cleared all around it and there we will grow corn and such crops
to pay for the clearing. Then all good specimens of oak and chestnuts
and enough pines and underbrush to give forest environment will be
left. We think of planting European larch, and will blow a hole to
set them in. Of course these trees want a protection of undergrowth
just as all forest trees require, so we will do no clearing,” said the
farmer.

“What do you mean by blowing a hole?” Mr. Fullerton.

“Why it struck me one day it would be a good sight easier and
cheaper to blow a hole with a charge of dynamite than try to dig
one in that mess of undergrowth and roots, so Charlie and I went over
into the woods yonder and inserted a quarter of a pound at a forty-five
degree angle about two feet below the surface. She tore up a hole
two and a half to three feet in diameter, leaving perfectly pulverized
soil fully two feet deep in which to plant a tree. By putting the charge
in a little flatter we secured even better results. With a helper Kis-
sam can make 250 holes a day at a cost of $12.12. We think Black
Judson powder would do just as well and would reduce the cost to
$10.88 per 250 holes.”

“Great head!” was the reply.

101

Returning from the dairy we go south along the division fence
where we can see the cowpeas making a brave struggle among the
sprouts and ferns of an uncleared section. The sugar beets and
mangles are making fine growth, while the sweet potatoes delight the
hearts of Southerners and Westerners. Sunflowers, two long rows
of them, which John and Mike had planted quickly one day, making
a dent with the heel, dropping the seed and pressing the earth over
with the toe, were thriving well. Astonishment at them was exhibited
until we spoke of the use of the seed as poultry food, when it was
thoroughly understood.

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The cauliflower field, fair to look upon

Now we come to the pride of our hearts, our own cauliflower,
sprouts and cabbage seedlings, fields as fair as man can look upon,
plants stocky and vigorous enough to make one feel certain of “big
returns.”

Squash and cucumbers in profusion, while corn just bearing, and
limas filling rapidly, brings us to the orchard with its luxuriant tree
growth and tomato vines laden with fruit and every inch of spare space
covered with crimson clover to be plowed under in the Spring for green
manure; berry vines, asparagus, rhubarb, red carrots from China tasted
as a rare treat and found as sweet as a parsnip, and we are again back
to the east of the house, where the tiny ever-blooming roses are mak-
ing a good headway.

Down into the cellar we usher our guests where the transverse
section of the soil calls forth fresh exclamations of delight and won-
der, and the bushels of vegetables prove that this is a market-garden
competing with and forcing recognition from the world at large.

A drive through the beautiful old village of Wading River and up

102

Lima beans on wire fencing

to the depot, where the Farmer accompanied his guests a portion of the
way back to the city’s turmoil, ended for these gentlemen what I am
sure was a unique day.

Returning at eventide the Senior Partner brought with him a
doubtful one, a Congressman of good Quaker descent and a thorough
believer in and earnest worker for Long Island, but “Fullerton’s farm
stories are too big to believe,” he said.

“Seeing is believing,” and his tour of the farm drew from him a
frank and delighted acknowledgment that we had “produced the
goods,” and, like our visitor of a few hours earlier, he pronounced the
alfalfa “the finest I have ever seen and I raise it in Kansas myself.”

The early potatoes having been dug, Mike spread some lime upon
the patch harrowing it in and preparing after our usual manner, ready
to receive spinach. Though August is early for planting this crop,
we felt the irrigation plant would give us good aid.

For the eighth the diary says:

“Packed two crates fancy tomatoes, two home hampers, two bush-
els of lima beans, ten dozen ears of corn, and two barrels of cabbage.”

That may sound simple to the uninitiated, but in reality it means
sorting the tomatoes, rejecting all that are not perfect either in shape
or otherwise, polishing the good ones, packing them in three-quart bas-

103

Careful packing ruled
at No. |

kets, six baskets to a crate. The hampers called for early potatoes
sorted and washed, beets washed and the tops slightly trimmed, beans
packed with paraffin paper to prevent spilling, cabbage trimmed and
thoroughly washed, tomatoes polished, carrots and onions cleansed
and trimmed. Beans are slow to pick and like peas deserve to bring a
high price in the markets. Corn was sorted and packed in a crate,
while all cabbages were thoroughly sprayed. Such was the packing
required of Number One for the label that goes on our packages we
wish synonymous with “the best that can be produced.”

As an illustration of what a man can do in a day, the following
from the ninth is fair:

“Mike Bordeauxed and Paris Greened all melons, sprouts, early
cauliflower and cabbage, also cultivated nearly all of acres eight and
nine.” Mike also had entire care of the horses and was our chief help
in the packing.

For days the weather had been overcast, hot and moist, true hot-
house weather. The morning of the tenth it seemed as though our en-
tire hopes were to be blasted. I think I can give you nothing more
vivid than the report the overwrought Senior Partner sent that day to
Mr. Peters:

General Conditions on Experiment Station Number One, August
10, 1906.

“Mr. Ralph Peters, Pres., Long Island City.

“Dear Sir:—The weather conditions prevailing throughout this the
first year of the Long Island Railroad Experimental Station Number
One have certainly been abnormal and lately the astounding change
in vegetable growth, showing in a most marked manner probably be-
cause of one day’s absence caused by hospital visit on account of my
ball and socket joint knee, made me feel that details should be re-
corded for your log book of Number One.

“The blight imported with celeriac from big commercial plant grow-

104

ers has extended to fine, healthy cauliflowers, Number One, grown
from seed. In spite of almost daily personal attention and care there is
hardly a head of either cabbage or cauliflower planted on acre number
one in the home plot, in order to keep it under continual observation,
that does not show anything from slight injury to absolute destruction
from this very serious imported blight. The long continuing overcast
Turkish-bath weather has sent the shallots into a weedy-like growth
resembling closely marsh grass effect. Peppers are apparently the
only things that are truly happy. Summer lettuce lately planted is
making a weedy growth, with the exception of one variety which came
up turnips, a mixture I understand skilfully concocted by a dis-
charged foreman of one of our American seedsmen who carried out
exactly the same methods of revenge pursued by a superintendent of
a German house who succeeded in absolutely destroying all landscape
gardening effects in Europe and America where nasturtiums were part
of the color scheme. Various summer radishes lately planted look

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Nasturtiums
covering the
root pile

more like foliage plants than vegetables. Corn, of course, is supreme-
ly happy. In the cabbage patch acre number two imported plants, the
growth of black rot and fuzzy cabbage louse is far superior in vigor
to the cabbage plant itself. Our splendid stand of kohl rabi has been
infected from the cabbage just east of it through the medium of our
frequently prevailing northeast winds. In order to save them, we
shall ship all we have at once. The finest lot of kale that I have ever
seen even about Long Island City has also been affected by imported
black rot and louse so that it must be cut and shipped immediately in
order to pull out all we can. The carrots, both first and second plant-

105

ing, are paying beautifully. The shell beans, although as erratic in
growth and set as elsewhere according to reports throughout the
United States, show freedom from anthracnose and other blights be-
cause of continual and early use of Bordeaux. Turnips planted July
twentieth appear to be in fine condition. Salsify and scorzonera show
up superbly. The tips of the salsify leaves are shrivelled and black and
occasionally the same effect is seen in the scorzonera, a normal peculi-
arity. The frost touched golden bantam and peep-o-day corn is mak-
ing up for lost time, many of the stalks running three and four ears
on main and side shoots. Brussels sprouts planted among this corn
show up best of all plantings. Parsnips supremely happy, and sugar
beets ditto. Turnips of August fourth show in even and very nearly
straight rows. Sprouts in acre number six are in spots badly affected
by the louse. Cauliflower, home grown, which was in fine shape, af-
fected badly by imported blight. Potatoes show same erratic brown-
ing, which is strikingly prevalent in every section of Long Island and I
should judge throughout the United States from reports in the papers.
Beans on acre number three would be fine specimens in the best bean
season ever known. This is beyond question entirely due to Bordeaux
applied as soon as plants appeared. Onions planted June thirteenth
on acre number three show that ground is in far from proper condition
to suit onion germination and growth. The same erratic showing of
rows is here that was found in the first planting made on acre number
two. The cabbage set out in acre number three has done marvelously
well, yielding a very large percentage of not only marketable but very
large solid heads. First planting of onions still reminds one very
much of a shave with a dull razor. The beets, because late germina-
tions, have somewhat caught up and transplantings have helped out
broken rows, are growing thriftily and look somewhat like a well kept
market-garden. Turnips planted on acre number two were superb the
day before yesterday; to-day leaf and even bulb have rotted so badly
that in appearance and stench the showing is awful. Endive for the
first time is making beautiful growth and promise for crop is excellent.

“Melons I harldly dare to speak of for fear they will have the blight.
The acre is the most beautiful patch I have ever seen and I came from
a melon country. The set is superb, the bees are marvelously thick
and the melons are filling out large and shapely. The assorted blight-
ed and measly celery plants have at last secured enough vigor through
copious doses of wood ashes, Long Island fertility, diluted salt water
coming to us in the form of fog, to show considerable promise. The
very best of the bunch, however, are golden self-blanching, raised in
number one seed-bed.

“In our vegetable flower garden, peppers are, as elsewhere, superb
both in leaf and fruit. The cardoon shows here and there leaf blight
but makes up in part by a number of good sized buds. Scarlet runner
is growing luxuriantly with no sign of vegetable enemy. On the
United States Government plot both haricot beans and lawn are in

106

fine shape. The squash and pumpkin samples near house plot we have
apparently saved in part from the ravages of the brood of the small
striped beetle, who do not seem to keep ahead of the special brand of
imported blight. Celeriac and celery look like a convalescent’s home.
In the orchard, acre number four, the trees are making superb growth.
Crimson clover well nigh covers bare places. Tomato plants are most
disheartening, besides the loss of at least eighty--five per cent of the set
crop, the wet weather is rotting the plant itself so that from the pres-
ent outlook ninety per cent total loss is probably nearer to fair state-
ment. The yellow raspberries from which we even had a small yield
are dying rapidly. Will endeavor to discover cause. Peanuts “all to
the merry.” For some reason limas look particularly thrifty, reason
unknown; they should be totally or nearly destroyed by mildew. Corn
on acre seven superb, in silk, in growth, in tassel and leaf. Early cu-
cumbers season about done; yield and freedom from disease first rate.
Squashes of all varieties have done particularly well and still making
fine fruit. Turnips sown July twenty-ninth splendid. Late tomatoes
are holding up well. Eggplants, with the aid of a large assortment of
bumblebees, are settling remarkably well. Some of the late tomatoes
are apparently keeping in style by rotting from the ground up.

“We life partners have in going over acres eight, nine and ten im-
bibed a vegetable mint-julip or cocktail according to one’s early en-
vironment, the late cabbages, red, curly-leafed and regular; the Brus-
sels sprouts, and the late cauliflower, which are as magnificent as any-
one could possibly see. Occasionally there is an affected leaf which
to us shows that the spores from the imported plants have been waft-
ed their way. Bordeaux has done well, but we are taking no chances
nor omitting any precautions whatever, and to-day all hands are pick-
ing infected leaves. The sweet potatoes remind me of Loveland, Ohio;
more cannot be said. Two rows of sunflowers planted for the benefit
of the feathered stock go billowing across the field showing plainly
where the stumps were burned last year. The soaked sugar-beets have
at last about caught up with the unsoaked rows. The test mangles
are doing splendidly. The black Mexican sugar corn is in tassel, and
showing up well. Second planting of early corn all well and made
quite an even stand throughout. In spite of frequent showers and
downpours, we have certainly demonstrated the necessity for frequent
applications of fungicides and insecticides, and that it unquestionably
pays to use both through the very earliest period of plant growth The
necessity for a sprayman even on a market-garden of only ten acres is
proven conclusively and next year if you approve, one man will be
assigned solely to this work with instructions to keep up an endless
round in a methodical manner so that no plot may be overlooked and
further to be careful to make a spraying tour directly after a storm.
Have had a particularly good man to handle this part of the work, but
the setting out and cultivation many times forced us to leave alone
plots showing up thriftily and without signs of coming disaster. It
was most unfortunate that we were unable, because of a great deal of

107

new work to be done which will not need thought next year or labor,
to raise every plant for Number One. We imported a great number of
insects in various forms and certainly two of the most dangerous and
rare blights and fungous growths and undoubtedly others of lesser mo-
ment. One thing we shall urge most strongly in pamphlet, which is
now well along, is that nothing be planted in this new ground but the
best of seed from strictly reliable firms and that under no circumstan-
ces should plants be secured from outside territory. From the very
first we have feared introduction of pest and for this reason took ex-
traordinary precaution with two varieties of potatoes we received
showing a mysterious, impossible to locate, disease which caused us to
destroy a very large number of them.—Yours truly, H. B. Fullerton,
Special Agent.”

The day brought us, however, a cook; a woman with a three-year
old child who came through the Sunshine Society. ,

The striped beetle were as thick upon the melons as though it was
not time for them to have disappeared for the season. They are the
most difficult things to kill one can find, while their young are the ter-
ror of all gardeners. These beetles lay their eggs just under the soil,
the young, a worm, bores into the stem of the vine and promptly kills
it. The melons were sprayed way beyond the time that is considered
safe in order to kill the beetle if possible, but nothing seemed to avail.

On the eleventh, Mr. Peters came, his heart seemed wrapped up in
that melon field, he spied each large melon, ype and testing it to
see if he could not find one ripe.

“Mr. Fullerton try different insecticides around some of the vines
about the roots and let’s see if we cannot save them. My, it would be
a shame to lose that melon field,” he said. So we made the following
applications. Going across the field from East to West and taking
three rows at a time, this brought each test upon each variety of
melon.

1st three rows lime and tobacco stems steeped.
2nd three rows tobacco stems steeped.

3rd three rows slug shot.

4th three rows ashes and kainit.

5th three rows lime.

This was placed immediately about the roots. None of them
showed marked results and the beetle tried harder than ever to get
inside the melons themselves.

That night we had rose China radishes for supper, twenty-six days
after planting the seed.

On Monday, the thirteenth the day and date being propitious,
John was sent out to mow the alfalfa. It was twenty-six inches high
and in full bloom. After it was cut (and John said it was pretty heavy),
all weeds, roots, etc. were picked from it before weighing that the fig-
ures might be exact. It was weighed green. The weights are as
follows.

108

Northeast quarter (soil top dressed) ..... ee Olen css

Northwest quarter (uninnoculated) ........--- 726 lbs
Southeast quarter (seed innoculated) ........-. 416 lbs
Southwest quarter (soil and seed innoculated) . 377 lbs

Mb Ghb er letter soci aya 6 -beseye tape ete 12 eee oe myers 3192 lbs

Next it was spread, and the day being overcast but not foreboding
rain it was allowed to remain until nightfall, when it was raked into
windrows. The next morning early it was spread, and in an hour being
dry but not crackly, was tied into bales of about twenty-five pounds’
weight and taken to the barn. Here it was weighed again.

Northeast quarter (soil top dressed) ........--- 701 lbs
Northwest quarter (uninnoculated) ........--- . 313 lbs
Southeast quarter (seed innoculated) ........-- 189 lbs
Southwest quarter (seed and soil innoculated) .. .168 lbs

UWai rls 4 occ om AG ace er nse eyo are 1371 lbs

It is cured to perfection, the leaves remaining on while the stem
is still green. Horse Texas will almost break his harness to get
some, while Buckeye disdains even to notice it.

Corn was now a daily diet in our household. Of course we tried
every variety of everything grown, but nothing caused such a howl to
be set up as the non-appearance of golden bantam corn. It was abso-
lutely useless to put any other variety on the table as long as this little
gem lasted.

In the Senior Partner’s phraseology, “it’s the earliest, ugliest,
smallest, sweetest corn that grows. If you once taste it you won’t want
any other.” ’Tis extremely yellow, therefore not popular with trades-
men, but a decidedly good crop for home hampers.

Italians were sent into the tomatoes to pick every morning now,
for it required two and sometimes three of us a good part of the day

Kale ready for
cutting

109

packing various products. Many a morning they have brought in fif-
teen to eighteen bushels of tomatoes while cabbage, radishes, lettuce,
kale, kohl rabi, carrots, eggplant, corn and beans kept all hands pretty
busy.

We were informed by one of our Huntington neighbors that a lit-
tle excursion had been planned from that point to the farm for the fif-
teenth. Glad we were to hear it, for we were anxious to have more
people see and believe the stories of the wonderful growth. For their
benefit we had arranged part of the day’s pick on the front porch and
it made a very good “agricultural exhibit” including corn, eggplant,
green and wax beans, pole and bush limas, squash, vegetable marrow,
four varieties of tomatoes, (pink, red, large and small yellows) cauli-
flower, one cabbage weighing when stripped for market, fifteen pounds,
beets, carrots, onions and peppers.

The Farmer was particularly anxious to see the assistant postmas-
ter and for a greeting had arranged a large perfect eggplant in a peck

Midsummer permitted variation in “Home Hamper" packing

110

basket and carried it under his arm to present to him as he alighted
from the train. The eggplant lover did not come, but a kind neighbor
carried it home to him and he afterward said to me:

“Tt’s all right, Mrs. Fullerton, I didn’t think the “Squire” could
raise them, but that was the best I ever ate.”

“We.had plenty of bees,’ I responded; “they are an absolute
necessity where eggplant is attempted.”

The “bees” remind me of everyone’s query when they saw the
“weather bureau” (where the maximum and minimum thermometers
are housed). “O, do you keep bees?”

“Yes, but not tame ones, we coaxed them by strong colawed flowers.
They come for them and are daily visitors. We intended having a
hive but have not come to it yet. Still our honey friends have done
all the work necessary,” we would reply.

For some time the children declared, “we took the weather out”
every morning when the thermometers were read.

The “little birthday excursion” (for it was the Farmer’s birthday)
numbered ninety-four and we felt as though the good news would
travel far when they left the farm.

I was showing some friends over the place and explaining opera-
tions how this crop was the second on that ground, that the third; ex-
plaining how it was all done with no commercial fertilizer and but lit-
tle help. We came to the dairy where we met an old man who had
preceded us; he was returning from reviewing the fodder corn, and I
said:

“Well, what do you think of it?” And of course I was swelling
with pride.

“Humph!” he replied. “I don’t think much of that there corn; it
aint got no ears.” And as he was referring to sorghum, I could but be
amused, as sorghum bears its seed on its tassel.

“This here’s that there new thing they call alfalfy, ain’t it?” he
asked.

“No sir,” I replied, “that is Japanese millet; but this is alfalfa,” as
I showed it to him.

“Japanese millet! We didn’t raise them new fangled things in
my day. I suppose you think this here corn is good too, but it aint
got no ears neither,” he said.

“But that’s not corn,” I remonstrated, “it’s teosinte, a grass, and
comes from Japan too.”

But “a man convinced against his will is of the same opinion still,”
and he went away muttering to himself.

Our other guests were fully satisfied that no one had drawn the
long bow in regard to the crops, and fresh vegetables from Experimen-
tal Station Number One became very popular in Huntington after that.

Our visitors drove to the beautiful Sound beach, (it should be
famous as it belongs to the village of Wading River) where they ate their
picnic dinners and on returning to the train, found the car
decked with armsful of exquisite gladioli, a gift from Wading River’s
famous grower of this gorgeous flower.

lil

Ted had been mowing millet all day. It fell in a golden wake be-
hind the scythe, making as pretty a picture as one could wish to see.
What satisfies us to the very core of our beings more than the harvest?
Nothing.

Spinach planted where the early potatoes came out was up in
seven days and immediately irrigated to hasten its growth.

The secret of all leaf crops is the rapidity with which they grow
and nothing can further them more than water coupled with cultiva-
tion. Endive needing a little of this medicine, the sprayers were
turned into this field.

A fair shipment of young carrots

Young carrots were somewhat in demand in the market in mid-
August, so we decided to dig all of the early planting and ship them.
The second planting was by this time providing for home hampers.
John took the wheelbarrow and fork and went out to the field, he soon
returned with the barrow full to overflowing. A second, a third and
a fourth came by and it seemed as though there could not be so many
carrots in all the world. They were taken to the packing shed, which,
by the way, was a very quickly improvised affair. Time did not give
us a chance to build an ideal one, so a strip of quarter-inch mesh gal-
vanized wire was tacked to the rear of the barn, stretched out to the

112

north and fastened to some stakes driven into the ground. The wire
was turned up at the edges and allowed to sag slightly in the center;
this admitted of a good many vegetables being placed in it at once,
while the spray from the hose of course ran right through. As a pro-
tection from the drip underneath some old boards were placed in front
of the drain; a table made of old boards (some second-hand stuff left
from the barn) laid upon boxes, made the packing table, while an old
sailcloth fastened up among the trees with rope made good enough
shade.

The improvised washing and packing "house"

Mike washed and John bunched. They were sorted into two sizes
and piled upon the table. Young carrots are sold with the leaves on,
and nothing could have been prettier than that table ladened with
orange and green. 335 bunches, twelve carrots to a bunch, was the
final count; while added to that 173 bunches of pink, white, yellow and
black radishes made a fair shipment of root crops for one day.

This plot of carrots covered a space of ground forty-six by sixty-
seven feet and yielded, all told, 485 bunches or 5,820 perfect carrots.

I think August twenty-second a good representative day of work at
this season. I give it to you straight from the diary:

“Ted finished cultivating celery and celeriac (we also put some
Bonora, which had been sent us by a good friend with an earnest peti-
tion that we try it, upon the celery) in dynamite swayle, weeded and

113

cultivated all berries, udo and peanuts. Mike and Pedro limed the
patches where early cabbage, kale and kohl rabi had come out, sowing
400 pounds. They also sowed 450 pounds Canada wood ashes on the
alfalfa, and 600 pounds old rotted manure on the southwest and south-
east quarters (these quarters had given the smallest yield), Pedro and
Martin picked tomatoes for two hours, Tony all day spraying cauli-
flower, cabbage and sprouts with Bordeaux and Paris Green.

“Sorted, washed and packed twelve crates tomatoes (1,200), three
barrels corn (650 ears), one crate corn (72 ears), one basket summer
squash (36), one basket of cucumbers (60).

“John finished making crates. Ted cleared out the barn and stack-
ed empty crates over the shower bath-room.

“John and Mike picked and packed the corn in two hours, brought
in two bushels and one wheelbarrow load of squash in forty minutes.”

Summer squashes
and marrows

I might insert here the “crate incident.” On the seventeenth day
of July a half car-load of packages in “knock down” shape arrived,
they were stacked up by the barn and everyone except Mike exclaimed:

“Where do you intend to store them all winter; they will last a
couple of years.”

“O no, Mr. Fuller’, you need more than him this year,” Mike said,
“T know, you wait till cabbage and Bruss’ sprout’ ready.”

“Why, Mike, we’ll never fill those in the world,” I said.

“You wait see, Mes Fuller’.”

He was right, many a message has gone forth this summer “for
goodness sake rush packages as much as you can, crops are spoiling
for want of them.” But many barrels alas, are lying empty!

Kale had been shipped two days previously, the plot thirty-one by
thirty-nine feet yielded 355 heads, the last shipment filling three bar-
rels. The kohl rabi, from seed from North China, yielded 144 roots and
the space occupied by them after being set out was thirty-one by four-
teen feet. These “rabis” differed in no way from the kind usually raised
here as far as we could see.

The night of the twenty-second it stormed, so the Italians were
sent over the cabbage, cauliflower and sprouts again the next day. In
fact it seemed that a spraying day was invariably followed by rain.
There were times when “Fullerton luck” did not hold good.

Endive was tied up when thoroughly dry, this must never be done
when the plants are damp for it is intensely susceptible to rot. The

Tying endive for blanching

field was the quaintest “Dutchest” thing imaginable when the men
were through.

“Mullerton luck” brought a thunder storm the next night so there
was nothing to do but spray again the following day. We went to the
field in the early morning as was our habit, and the sight that met us
was enough to make the heart sick, leaves turning black and yellow
with blight, insects so thick they positively looked crowded.

“What shall we do?” we exclaimed, “ the pride of our hearts and
the portion to bring in the greatest returns going before our eyes! It
surely cannot be our fault, or from any neglect.”

“Mes. Fuller’,” said Mike, “about every five year, the cauliflower
he go so, you can’t save him, I know, I grow him many year.”

115

“Should we have sprayed more Mike?” I asked.

“Mah gah, Mes Fuller’ we pass this field about eight times already
and two times be enough. This the year, you can’t help him,” he re-

lied.
. “Well, if this is the year we have him for fair,” said the Senior
Partner. “Mike, tell Tony to go over again, this time dust on tobacco
aust and slug shot mixed half and half. Then let Martin and Pedro
pick all infected leaves and the entire plant, where they are bad, and
bring them up to the barn to be burned. We’ll save the balance of
them if we can.”

The plants and leaves were taken to the barn plot, but we could
not burn them green and considered them too dangerous to leave until
dry.

“Mike tell the Italians to dig a hole here and bury that stuff,” said
the farmer. He watched operations closely and when they had tossed
in a good layer of leaves he had them spread it thick with lime, an-
other layer of leaves, again lime, until all were safely interred. I
have no doubt that will be a rich spot next year.

Eleven times those fields were “passed” and there is nothing to
snow for it. Nota cauliflower and but few perfect cabbages and it is
doubtful if we get any sprouts. The latter are set and hard and the
plants are laden, but the louse has discolored them so badly they
would not pay for the picking. The plants average one quart of
sprouts each and as there were 5211 plants set out, the loss can be
safely estimated at 5000 quarts. During mid-winter these bring from
twelve to thirty cents a quart. I guess I won’t figure what we might
have made for there is no use crying over spilled milk and we have
not trusted all the eggs to one basket; a diversity of crops is deep wis-
dom for those who deal with Dame Nature at first hand.” Man as
yet cannot foretell the season’s wet or dry characteristics, therefore it
is most unwise to rely on one species alone, a season fatal to one vege-
table assures a phenomenal yield to another. Our only consolation,
if consolation it can be called, is that all experts and old farmers have
suffered the same loss this season.

“What is the cause?” I asked one visitor from the east end of the
Island, who always has a large acreage of these special crops.

“Why, that damp warm weather started the rot,” he replied, “and
then I think last winter was so warm and open all the bugs lived
through and we have a particularly choice assortment this season.”

“Well, it’s thoroughly discouraging,” I said, “to work so hard and
have the crop come almost to maturity and then die before your very
eyes, while you are powerless to save it.”

“Yes! Yes! It certainly is,” was his rejoinder, but he said it ina
way that showed it was not the first time he had met such defeat.

The spinach was given a good dose of liquid manure as a tonic at
this trying season of the year and it later amply repaid the labor.

The tomatoes had received their last cultivation July tenth and

116

crimson clover was broadcasted and harrowed in. It came up in four
days and by mid-August the field was a mat of green, while the four-
leaved ones among it were Hope’s delight. Many a day she has come
in with sixteen fours, a goodly number of fives and sometimes a six
leaf.

Clover was now sowed wherever crop came out, the early cab-
bage patch received it August twenty-seventh, while early September
showed many other patches covered with either this or vetch, or sain-
foin, or alsike. Manure, lime and ashes were spread and cultivated
in before these nitrogen gatherers were sown, for they will be allowed
to remain all winter and turned under for green manure next spring.
It takes but little time and costs but little money to sow these crops
and they render untold good to the soil.

By the thirtieth endive was ready to gather. Those that had been
tied (and they must be well grown before tying) were out, the raffia
removed and thoroughly washed. The hearts were blanched as pret-
tily as could be and thirteen bushel baskets were made ready for morn-
ing shipment. All things that left the farm in the morning were
picked the night before, sprayed and allowed to remain out in the
night air unpacked until morning. The consequence was such things
as lettuce, endive and spinach were as crisp as possible for these
plants wilt immediately after picking, but quickly revive if watered
and placed in the shade.

The first shipment of endive
117

When returns came from the commission merchant they read—
“baskets of chicory.”

“Well, if the big New York dealers don’t know endive from chic-
ory, don’t let’s grow it any more,” I said.

“T guess we have other things to do,” replied the farmer, ‘“Let’s
try romaine and escarole next year, just a little to see if they know
what that is, they are easier to grow than endive because they need no
tying.”

The last day of August, our last at the farm! To-morrow would
see a new era, for we must return to the dear old home to get ready
for school days. John had become converted to market-gardening and
he had bought himself eight acres of land and went to prepare it for
Spring work, while Mike moved his entire family to No. 1 to remain
for the rest of the winter.

A Western visitor gave us a feeling of satisfaction. There arrived
in the afternoon a gentleman from Indiana, a total stranger, who said
he had heard of the Station and would like, with our permission, to
look over it.

“Mr. Micklejohn,” for the Farmer was still pretty Jame, made him
welcome and escorted him on a tour of inspection.

“Well,” said our visitor, “I’ll tell you, Mr. Fullerton, “I’ve been
traveling for a year and a half to find just the place I want for a farm.
I started in Texas and I have been to every State Experimental Sta-
tion in the Union and this beats anything I have ever seen. It is the
most practical, the best looking and most educational of any, and I
don’t see how you have done it in a year.”

“Tt’s the soil Old Man,” (all Westerners call each other Old Man,
it seems to give them great satisfaction) “soil and climate, you can’t
beat it!” said the Farmer. “Come down cellar and see what we have,”
and he showed him the now famous cellar wall giving the strata of the
earth’s construction.

“This suits me,” he said, “my weary search is over. But there is
something more here than soil in which to grow vegetables, your
island is one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen, the unex-
pected views and beauty spots make it a continual surprise. Why,
those lakes just to the south of you are gems, and the eyes of man have
hardly rested upon them, I suppose.”

“Right you are, and there are 200,000 acres of this virgin soil lying
idle just waiting for a helping hand to give New York its fresh food.”

“Well, Pll make a phophecy, it won’t be many years before there
is precious little of it lying idle, and I, for one, am going in to help
you. I want a good big farm and I’m going to buy it next week,” he
said. “By the way, I hear you have another Station at Medford, what
do you think of that section, soil’s pretty light, isn’t it?”

“Lighter than this,” replied the Senior Partner, “but deeper. The
surface is drifted over with white sea-sand and we supposed we would
find soil a foot and a half at the deepest. When they were clearing they

118

dug a cellar under a shack, in which to store dynamite, and we found
the soil four feet deep. You could have knocked me down with a feath-
er, for no one is more enthusiastic about the Island than I, but I never
supposed there was four feet of good soil in that section.”

“Well it only goes to show mighty few people know much about
the land they live in,” he said. “May I bring some friends in a few
days to see the place, they will think I have lost my head when I tell
them about it, so I want to show it to them?”

“Sure thing! bring as many as you want and come as often as you
wish, and stay as long as you like. Always glad to see you,” was the
rejoinder.

Dynamiter Kissam had been called away, so that but one acre
of the dairy had been cleared, he was to return when he could and fin-
ish the piece for we were anxious to get rye in this fall.

{Udo, the

Japanese celery

119

Summer Idylls

Te merag

ees Oar Eire me
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A

Open-air Wash-boiler

wash-stand Bath-room

120

Part V

a
is

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Work and play in the corn-field

Virginia Horse Tooth made good wig-wams

Autumn

sylvania for a few days. They had been “good as pie” all

summer and often when father and mother were too burdened
to be pleasant they had had dull times. Rides were their great joy and
they always went to the depot with shipments; but companionship of
their age was lacking and it was time they had a “vacation.” Such a
glorious one they had with a bunch of cousins; pillow fights, early
morning squeals, romps and picnics.

With the aid of records kept at various times by the stenographer
Mike, Walter and Martha (Mike’s eldest daughter), I give you the fall
work.

Sunday the second records the picking of the first melon, a Long
Island beauty. The Italians were pressed into service more now for
John’s going left a hole in the force. Tomatoes were coming thicker
than ever and I remember asking Mike on my return from a day’s visit:

“Any tomatoes yet, Mike?”

“My gah, yes, Miss Fuller’, we ship forty-one crates this morning.”

“Forty-one crates! Goodness, that must have been some tomatoes,
how many culls?”

“Hight bushel, I give ’em to section hands and train crews, they
like ’em,” he answered.

No wonder the diary records “two Italians picking tomatoes one-
half day.”

Sugar corn that had been gathered was cut and stacked and the
land prepared for a legume. Barrels had to be unloaded and stacked,
for we still had hopes of gathering some cabbage and cauliflower,
while sweet potatoes held out the promise of an abundant yield.

More endive was ready for shipment on the sixth and the diary
records:

“Washed and packed six barrels of cabbage, eleven bushels of en-
dive, also some carrots and beets.”

Tony showing the greatest aptitude for market-gardening, was
given the more particular work and he soon took John’s place in help-
ing Mike with the packing. Walter, the boy, had become quite pro-
ficient in many ways, and for a lad of fourteen shows good signs of a
budding farmer.

On the sixth the Assistant United States Agrostologist visited the
farm to see the alfalfa. As a test had been made for the Govern-
ment at their special request, they were naturally much interested.

His verdict coincided with others already given and he further
said upon examining the roots and seeing the nitrogen nodules, that

r \HE first of September saw the children and myself off to Penn-

128

The start of a morning shipment

Long Island virgin soil must contain the needed bacteria for the larg-
est nodules found were on the uninoculated section. That the bac-
teria was at home and at work in all sections he felt was true without
a doubt, and he further predicted that “next year you will not be able
to tell one quarter from another.”

The tenth records the shipment of five crates of melons, and from
that time on we could not compete with the field, the yield was too
great. The prophecy held for them came true, they were not as sweet
as we had hoped, but like cauliflower this was an off year, entirely too
wet and really good melons were as “scarce as hens’ teeth.” I give
you here a letter to Mr. Peters on the subject:

“Wading River, Long Island, N. Y.,
“September 10,1906.
“Mr. Ralph Peters, Pres., Long Island City.

“Dear Sir:—The weather, which sent the thermometer down to
forty and even a trifle below night after night, held up our melons and
further weakened the vitality of the vines to a marked extent. The
striped beetle, which has been our toughest nut to crack, true to the
usual procedure, appeared late in August in immense numbers. This
was a time when he could only be fought with severe damage, not only
to the vines but the melons themselves, and in spite of the greatest of
care and most thorough work they succeeded in laying eggs in great
quantities. The beetle itself and its “maggot” not only attacks the

124

vines, but it attacks the melons themselves as it does cucumbers and
squashes. While they seldom are able to injure, or in fact, penetrate
to the interior, they certainly spoil the appearance of the melon and
in many cases where they happen to work close to the juncture of the
vine, they partly cut off the sustenance supply and check growth and
ripening considerably. We have a big lot of melons of excellent qual-
ity, but they do not look right. I went into the city on Thursday af-
ternoon, Friday and Saturday, and found that, without exception, both
Jersey and Southern melons had been attacked in exactly the same
way as the melons on No. 1. I also found that Rocky Fords were com-
ing in with mutilated skin coverings. At the Delaware Water Gap
when I went to bring home my family, I found exactly the same state
of affairs existing with every melon I could discover. A few of them
were native, most of them were coming from Jersey, Colorado and the
South. Nevertheless, in spite of the scientific explanation that there
are certain seasons when the natural enemy of our insect pests are
entirely absent, or present in numbers so small that they do not exert
any apparent influence and man alone cannot cope with them, we have
no hesitancy in saying that we will prevent this marking another year
and base this egotistic statement on the results of our experiments,
which, although started late in the season, will show conclusively that
the aftermath of the striped beetle need not be feared if tobacco is used
freely, particularly, about the melon hills, etc.
Yours truly,
H. B. Fullerton,
Special Agent.”

On the eleventh “we two” went to the farm for the night, for the
following day we were to receive a delegation of dairymen to view the
farm’s successes and failures.

For their benefit we placed upon the porch a bale of alfalfa and a
bunch of plants (roots and all) from each quarter section. They
seemed wonderfully pleased with the successes attained and one of
them upon examining the root nodules, said:

“May I take some of these home with me? We have tried for
three years to raise alfalfa at our dairy and we cannot get a nodule
or get the plant to live over winter. It is a remarkable showing this
section has made and I congratulate you most heartily.”

No less interesting to them were the other fodder crops and they
were as surprised at the Virginia horse tooth as any one else had
been. By this time it had grown to fifteen and one-half feet, with the
ears, seven and eight feet from. the ground.

A six-footer stood among it holding an umbrella in his upstretched
hand and the tip of the umbrella could not touch the tassel.

The Suffolk County Fair opened on the seventeenth and much
time was consumed in making ready. A little portable house, the
same size as the one we had been living in, was erected on the fair
grounds, and for some time we had been preparing and framing pho-
tographs of the farm’s development, to hang upon the walls. Sunday
the sixteenth took us all to the farm again, giving to the children a
good treat, for they really had grown very fond of the place, and to
us another busy Sunday.

125

At
Suffolk County Fair,
September,
1906

Being “Suffolk Countyites” we are allowed to enter vegetables for
competition and strange to relate, the yearling farm won eleven first
prizes, six seconds and an honorary mention. The portable had its
miniature sign by the front door flanked by teosinte and backed by
Virginia horse tooth, the interior had one room furnished as a bedroom,
while the others had tables loaded down with vegetables of
various sorts. There was a goodly showing for the time of year, let-
tuce, endive, summer and spring radishes, beets, onions, carrots, par-
snips, salsify, beans, sugar corn, tomatoes, squash, marrow, canta-
loupes, watermelons, mangles, sugar beets, pe-tsai, and sakurajima,
potatoes, sweet and white, cabbage, sprouts and peanuts, alfalfa, mil-
let, corn, sorghum and teosinte.

The little cottage was crowded with visitors every day, some from
curiosity, some from real interest, many came back a second and third
time becoming so absorbed in the subject we would often talk for
hours.

1 WADING RIVER.
The Fair j . 2 MEDFORD. «~~

sign-board

126

“These are scrub oak vegetables, raised in one year without the use
of commercial fertilizer,” we would say.

“Oh, I don’t know about that,” would come the rejoinder.

“Then I’ll tell you,” and the whole story of the farm’s history
would be repeated. No one who heard or saw it as I have tried to re-

A bit of the portable interior at the fairs

late it in these pages, but saw the logic in the venture, and many an
agriculturist had new heart put into him from the long chat, while
without a doubt we received as good as we gave.

They contended, those who had not farmed, that ten tons of ma-
nure to the acre was “a heap of fertilizer.” I would like to quote here
from the American Agriculturist of recent date. The extract is from
an article on raising melons in another state and the quantities used
are for one acre.

“In the Fall is spread twenty tons of stable manure free of stalks
and straw (this would equal thirty to forty tons of ordinary manure).

“1000 pounds high grade Carolina phosphate rock.

“300 pounds high grade sulphate of potash.

“This is harrowed in and I sow twelve to fifteen quarts of crimson
clover to be plowed under in April. I then sow 1000 pounds com-
plete fertilizer (formula two per cent nitrogen and four per cent phos-
phoric acid and ten per cent potash).”

This surely dwarfs ten tons strawy manure into insignificance.

The second morning of the fair, a carriage full of visitors drove up

127

to the door and an east-end neighbor, who had visited the farm in the
early summer alighted, bearing several large bouquets of asters and
dahlias. He brought them with the thought they might help brighten
our exhibit. In reality they were a peace offering. I relate the in-
cident as one which to us was full of glee.

During his visit to the farm he espied the newly set out celery |
plants.

“Your farm’s all right, Mr. Fullerton, but what did you plant that
for?”

“Celery? Why not?” said the Senior Partner.

“Why not? Because you can’t raise it here and there’s no use
trying,” he replied.

“Do you raise celery?” asked the Book Farmer.

“Um!” as our guest nodded his head.

“Hxhibit at the Riverhead Fair?”

“Um!” again as he acquiesced.

“Well, so do we, and if you win a prize this year you’ll know it,
for you'll have to work over time.”

A smile broke over his face and he clapped the “gude mon” on the
shoulder, saying:

“Fullerton, you think the Island will grow anything under the
sun, don’t you?” But his expression said, “He’s an enthusiastic
youngster (the said “gude mon” being some years his senior) but he’ll
get over it.”

We exhibited celery at the Fair and won second prize. Therefore
the flowers. |

One afternoon I was standing in the bedroom door tired from the
day’s exertions (the Senior Partner was away that day holding an-
other exhibit at an agricultural gathering). The house was crowded
with visitors, among them some Irishmen.

One large, portly man said: “Och, come on out, they know what
to put in their fields!” '

“What did we put on the fields?” I flared up, supposing, of course,
that he referred to a high priced fertilizer.

“Shure on didn’t they have you in the fields! Sure, I’d worruk me-
self if you was out there!”

I blush to tell the story, but it is too good to keep, that was the
time my zeal for the farm got me into hot water.

In our beloved home town, the Horticultural and Agricul-
tural Association held an exhibition and they particularly requested a
showing from the farm sending us entry blanks for competition. We
were glad to help and filled out the blanks with twenty entries. As
this took place during the Riverhead Fair week, the Senior Partner left
me late one evening, drove the twelve miles to the farm, gathered and
packed crops all night and took them in to the exhibition the next
morning.

The farm’s showing was as pretty as could be, its greatest attraction

128

in one sense, being a basket of dainty miniature vegetables from the
children’s garden. Their plantings had been made very late and in
the shade which tended to dwarf them, but under the circumstances
seemed very apropos; as at other exhibitions people wondered whether
the corn was not spliced, while the high quality coupled with the exten-
sive variety attracted much attention.

When the Farmer returned to Riverhead I eagerly asked the news,
meaning, of course, what prizes had we won.

- “Nothing doing,” he said, “they seemed to think it was honor
enough to be allowed to exhibit fifty varieties and would not allow our
stuff in competition. I guess the next time I ‘help out’ I'll think twice
before I work all night doing it.”

“That hurts,” I replied. “If it were outsiders we could speak our
mind, but that touches the quick.” .

At
Mineola Fair
September,
1906

At the Mineola Fair where the exhibit looked even prettier than at
Riverhead, the Senior Partner had an odd experience.

A gentleman came in and said, “How are you, Mr. Fullerton; I’ve
been looking for you and asked a man if he could tell me where to find
your exhibit. ‘There’s the whole d humbug over there,’ he said,
so here I am.”

“Where’s the man,” said the Railroad Farmer, “and what’s the
matter with him-”

‘“He’s outside now looking at that corn to see where it’s spliced. He
says you didn’t raise the things and if you did you had five tons of
commercial fertilizer to the acre,” replied the visitor.

129

The Senior Partner stumped out under full head of steam and the
following wafted in the window:

“Howdy, neighbor! hear you don’t believe we raised this stuff
without commercial fertilizer. I'll tell you what Vl do. Ill give you
$1,000 for every ton we used on every acre of the ten, and if you don’t
think my personal check is good, ’m sure President Peters will be
glad to back me; in fact, I’m not sure but he’ll raise it a $1,000 or so
for every ton we used and I mean it,” he reiterated. “At your figures
that would be $50,000 sure money, at least, and you had better start in
at once. Here’s the name of the man we bought everything from in
the way of fertilizer, that will start you right and quick.”

The stranger had nothing more to say, but left the exhibit at once
and I doubt very much if he is hunting for the fertilizer.

Among our visitors at the latter fair were many market garden-
ers( all of whom were most complimentary about the produce and felt
the Experimental Station had done them a personal favor in opening
up a territory that had so long been looked upon as valueless and not
even considered. Many of them were forced to give up their farms ©
near the city, as price of land and taxation was too high to compete
with longer, and big figures were being paid for their acres. They
now felt a promised land was open and they would come out into “Suf-
folk.”

Many of our vegetables at the fairs proved tempting, especially
the black radishes to the Germans, while a pile of very large sweet po-
tatoes near a door disappeared mysteriously. One portly lady was seen
walking across the grounds with a large yellow potato hugged lovingly
against a black silk dress. To quote Kipling, “it showed up like a
ripe banana in a smoke house.”

It was particularly fascinating to watch the interest shown in the
various varieties. Without a doubt the one bale of alfalfa, together
with the photographs picturing the work in the field from inoculation
of seed up to and including the harvest, caused more comment than
anything else there. Interest in it was shown by young and old, and in
fact the younger men seemed the most eager to know how to grow it
successfully.

A lad of about eighteen became so engrossed in it and the other
farm products, that he spent a whole morning in the building; while a
boy nearer fourteen said, “I’m going to make my father grow that if
I can.” It well repaid us the long days and incessant talk to see the
keen awakening of the budding agriculturists.

Women, of course, showed more interest in “garden sass,” especially
in the martynias, large radishes, including the twelve pound Sakura-
jima and the Pe-tsai. Request after request was made for the names
“written down so I won’t forget” and I doubt not many little gardens
will grow them next year.

One gentleman spent much time over the exhibit, went away and
returned shortly, with two companions. They passed silently around
noting every detail and finally, one of them broke forth:

130

“They’ve got Jersey beat to death!”

That was a draught of nectar to we “book farmers.”

Ted became indignant many times a day at the remark that the
sixteen foot corn was “spliced,” and would say:

“BHven after they’ve looked it all over, from the root to the top they
will hardly believe it.”

The little stenographer, who is short and round, became, after a
brief while, utterly disgusted.

“Why, you can’t make people believe we grew them without tons
and tons of fertilizer.” She had a long argument with one man who
finally said:

“Well, what do you eat to make you so fat?”

And she replied:

“Scrub oak vegetables,” which seemed to be conclusive proof of
their merit.

The last day of the fair the little house was thronged with people
asking for their favorite vegetable, while many asked for peppers, to-
matoes, melons and squashes “for seed.” The watermelons were
eagerly sought for, they were not very large, but the sweetness made
up for lack of size.

I remember asking the Senior Partner, when we were breaking up
the Riverhead exhibit:

“Are there enough melons for Mineola?”

“Knough! The cellar is half full, Mike don’t know how to get time
to ship them.”

Ted had been constantly at the fair and after going back to No.
1 to see the engine repaired (a blow hole in the cylinder had been
causing us a good deal of trouble) went to Experimental Station No. 2,
where a countryman of his, with his wife and little children, are en-
sconced in the portable that did service at the fairs.

As the weather grew colder we deemed it wise to dig the remain-
der of the sweet potatoes, but Mike begged so hard to be allowed to
leave them, saying:

“T save him, Mr. Fuller’, I make big brush heaps all around, a
frost come, I light him, that save. I make brush heaps too, all around
lima beans, after frost he bring much money,” that we allowed him to
have his way.

On the tenth the Farmer went to the farm with some very import-
ant photographic work in hand. He had scarcely stepped foot upon
the place when, as he says:

“T got uneasy and told Mike to call the men in from the dairy and
pick every tomato, bean and eggplant. I felt we would have frost that
night.”

Mike sat up until midnight to watch for it and deciding there
would be none as no dew was falling, went to bed without lighting the
sweet potato brush fire. Signs failed for the thermometer fell to
twenty-eight degrees and potatoes had to come out next day. They
were practically mature, but we would like to have had a week longer.

131

The sweet potato field and samples from it

The yield of this digging was forty bushels; this with the previous one
bringing the yield up to 51 bushels.

Virginia horse tooth not only reached the desired height of sixteen
feet, but went two feet higher and has also matured. The yield in
bulk of forage is tremendous, while the depth of kernel and circumfer-
ence of ear are remarkable. One of the prettiest sights on a farm is
stacked corn when the yield is good, while as true wigwams for make-
believe Indians they cannot be surpassed.

Alfalfa was cut for the second time October twelfth. The yield
was, of course, a mere handful compared with the first cutting, but the
field has held to its reputation even in this respect, the second cuttings
totaling 207 pounds, green.

A trip over the fields in October makes one feel desolate enough,
crops out or half out, signs of the heavy frost everywhere. The most
peculiar thing, however, is to find the field, where we have lately re-
moved turnips, thickly dotted with beautiful’ endive; radishes where
sweet corn has been cut, and carrots, peas, beans and spinach among
the crimson clover. These plants were “first crops” on each section
and it does not seem to matter how deep the seeds have been buried,
they all come up in their own good time.

Thus stands the farm, but a year and a month old. Proudly does
it raise its head and look the world in the face, calling to mankind to
come and liberate its sister acres lying in idle waste and unproduc-
tiveness, awaiting but the touch of that magic wand—the hand of man.

132

Part VI
Packing and Shipping Notes
and

Epilogue

The Open Door of Experimental Station No. |

Packing and Shipping Notes

O the beginner this portion of the business is fraught with as
much uncertainty as any other. The method of packing
varies materially with the locality.

We have been much interested in the subject this season and find
that if a package is good, and the principle based on common sense,
backed by first class products, the market is glad to have it.

One day during the height of the tomato season we made a pil-
erimage among the markets and commission houses. We saw the
same article packed in many differing ways, each with some feature,
which must have appealed to the packer. Lastly, we went to a com-
mission house where we had been shipping the farm’s surplus and
asked them the method in which they would rather have us pack
tomatoes.

“Well, Mr. Fullerton, I’ll tell you,” said the young man in charge,
“tomatoes usually come in what we call Jersey crates. Here they are,
rather heavy and hold about a bushel.”

“Then you don’t care for our package of six baskets to the crate.”
said the Senior Partner.

134

“Why, yes, we are doing well on those. Jersey crates are selling
now for fifty cents and we are getting one dollar for yours right along.
In fact, there is one buyer comes here and won’t look at anything until
he knows whether you have a shipment in. Your goods are fine and we
know they’re the same all through. If I were you I’d keep on packing
tomatoes -your way.”

“T guess we will,” was the rejoinder.

One thing is certain it pays to pack your fancy goods in a fancy
style for the fancy trade, then ship your seconds as such. Our toma-
toes, as I have said before, were all sorted, which left every day from
three to eight bushels of seconds. These could have been disposed of
easily in a local market for a reasonable price, while our “fancies” were
bringing just double the price of the usual shipment.

The same holds good of other products. Young carrots washed and
bunched, with the tops left on and packed, we think, either in crates or
bushel baskets, will bring far and beyond the price of fully matured
carrots with the tops cut off, then barreled. One package appeals to
the fancy grocer, the other to the wholesale dealer.

Some dealers wish a dozen bunches of carrots tied together, I
imagine this is when they are shipped by the barrel, for it is then easy
to split a barrel’s contents without much handling. If, however, the
carrots are packed in bushel or half bushel baskets this quantity is
about what the retail dealer would handle.

The commission merchants are in need of some education also.
When they calmly call four distinct varieties of endive “esgrove,” it
shows they are not on the “fancy” scale; they should seek the “fancy”
trade when they have a shipper who sends them “fancy” goods, particu-
larly varieties of the favorites of foreign climes.

It seems to us that a change is needed. The grower’s products
go now to a commission merchant, are sold by him (between 12 and 3
A. M.) to the wholesale dealer, by him to the small grocer and lastly
to the consumer. This necessitates the following delays and han-
dlings:

Our products, for instance, would leave the farm at 7 A. M. crisp,
tender and fresh; that night at midnight they would be sorted out to
the wholesale dealer, the following morning he sells to the grocer and
by night the consumer has it. This condition is, of course, much
worse where the produce is from twenty-four hours to one week in
transit between grower and dealer.

The day is shortly to arrive when all restaurants, hotels and clubs
will deal directly with the farmer, giving to him the full value of his
crops. This means to the producer a very large increase in his returns.

To the private consumer, the “Home Hamper” will bring to the
door absolutely fresh vegetables in season, unhandled. If you will stop
to think one moment what “unhandled” means, you will be astounded.
“Unhandled by a dozen people, not having stood in hot stores, foul
cellars, or along dusty streets’; and it means the same to the famous
steward as it does to the simple housekeeper.

135

The “Home Hamper” means a mail order business, and let me
say here, let no man, or woman, undertake market-gardening unless
they distinctly understand it is a business; as much a business as a
department store or a manufactury. This hamper is delivered in
New York or Brooklyn for $1.50; exactly the same price in mid sea-
son, and much less when vegetables are scarce, as you would pay for
the articles at a fair greengrocer’s. To the housekeeper within the
city limits the mail order gardener opens to her a door through which
she can bring in fresh supplies for jellies, jams, preserves, canned veg-
etables and pickles, the exact quantity she desires fresh from the gar-
den. To the gardener who adds chickens to his other products, a mar-
ket for eggs is at once opened, for these may form a portion of the
“Home Hamper” contents, and “dormant” food for city dwellers be re-
duced to the minimum.

Perishable products, such as lettuce, endive, spinach and radishes,
should be picked either in the early morning or at nightfall. They
should then be spread in the shade, thoroughly sprinkled and left in
the open all night. These products wilt instantly when gathered, and
the usual method is to take a barrel into the field cut the crop and
pack it at once, the result being the produce wilts and heats tremen-
dously. Radishes when shipped to a hotel or club should be packed
in crates, which have had paraffin paper laid on each side and each end.
They should not be bunched, which is a saving of much time to
both parties concerned, and every radish should be so perfect that the
steward may take up a handful and see that they may be served at once.
Is he willing to pay a good price? Of course he is, for it saves him one
man’s time and brings him much commendation. Lettuce well washed
and crisp, saves him further time; in fact the benefit he derives is well
worth a fancy price no matter what the vegetable.

Sweet corn, without a doubt, is the most difficult product to get
to market in its best condition. It heats very fast, while after a few
hours the sugar is transformed into starch. If possible, pick it in the
early morning and ship at once; if not, pick the last thing at night,
spread so the ears do not lie on one another and leave it out in the
night air, packing and shipping at once in the early morning.

The Senior Partner says, “A true corn eat is where you pick the
corn after the water is boiling,” but, alas, for city folks, they will never
know a “true corn eat.” I doubt not the “Home Hamper” this sum-
mer has given them the nearest to it they have ever known.

The farm has shipped this summer upward of one hundred “Home
Hampers,” most of them to “history makers” and “critics,” which if sold
as many of them were, at the usual rate ($1.50) would have netted a
tidy sum—they have been forwarded through New York City to in-
terior points and never failed to arrive in prime condition and receive
enconiums.

The personal equation here as elsewhere means much, therefore
study up your packages, decide what you will use and put them to-

136

gether during the winter, time is too precious in the summer season.

Gathering a crop when it has reached the best stage is a matter
that entails much thought. The coming idea is “not how large, but
how good.” Peas picked when young and sweet will sell as “petit
pois” at an advanced figure. Small beans bring “baby bean” figures,
while small, crisp radishes are the only ones worth shipping. Young
beets are in demand, also young carrots, onions and turnips. Gather
your corn before the kernels have reached their largest size and do not
wait for lettuce to become as hard as a rock provided it is well
blanched and headed.

It seems to me the mutual interests of market-gardener and con-
suiner could be materially advanced if the former would form a league
and meet the National Stewards League of America; they would find
their interests identical, and here, on equal terms, matters of vital in-
terest could be brought up and discussed.

The Market-Gardeners Association could have at its head an agent
whose business it would be to keep in touch with the members of the
association and the members of the league, so that a larger harvest of
one commodity could be disposed of where the league members most
wanted it. The Suffolk County Cauliflower Association has been es-
tablished on these lines for some years. Their agent keeps in touch
with the markets of both East and West, giving to the members the
knowledge where to ship to their best advantage and thus save a glut
in the nearby market. Now the producer and consumer of garden
crops are as far apart as the poles with the commission man between
them. This may and no doubt does sound most tremendously hard
on the commissioners; they still have their place in the world, however,
for the big car lots and imported commodities must always be looked
after by them. The market-gardeners’ consignments are usually small
and many commission houses do not care to handle them at all. This
has been our personal experience this summer, therefore the fact has
been forced upon us, that the small producer must find his market
direct; easy in this case for the one wants what the other has.

In the following tabulation you will notice a wide disparagement
of figures under “average market value.” These figures have been
taken from our own returns for this season. On the same date from
the same house there may be a wide difference in the return on the
same commodity packed in different ways. Again the return from one
house may be much higher than from another on the same goods
packed the same way. For instance, from one house on the same day
we received the same price for a basket and for a crate of melons. The
basket, of course, held much less, but the quality of the two packages
was the same. At one time and at one house turnips sold for sixty-
seven cents per barrel, at another house, seven cents per bunch, in
erates; this seems to be good proof of the advisability of fancy packing.
Tomatoes loose in crates (even though carefully sorted) brought fifty
cents per crate; in baskets in crates, as high as $1.75.

137

Watermelons and eggplants should be packed with a little straw
that they may carry unblemished. Lettuce wrapped in paraftin paper
and a piece of paper laid over the head of cauliflower will raise them at
once to the ranks of aristocratic vegetables.

lor the convenience of those who are uninitiated, two and one-half
bushels make a barrel; spring radishes should have twelve in a bunch,
while the summer varieties require only six. Beets and turnips should
have six, eight or ten, according to size; understand this is merely the
custom of one locality, and package customs, like others, have their
good and bad points. Individuality, on a basis of common sense, will
prove as good with vegetables as it has with fruits and flowers, while
new varieties and hybrids are being as eagerly sought for by stew-
ards as by landscape gardeners.

Boa oo

List of Plant Life

Flourishing at Experimental Station No. | within a year after
clearing commenced

Vegetables
Name No. of varieties Name No. of varieties
Artichoke, Jerusalem ...... 1 Onions? 235).a.% 0 eee 4
EX SPALAGUN Voie cick cenit s if Parsmips: sce, cee eee 2
Beans; ‘Strime 5. 0. ors bot 8 Parsley ti... ae-seee eee 2
Beams, ima 526 3° 2305 = b0% 6 (RGANUtS)| Se. eee eee ee 2
GCI Uy ot e8 oe e eee 3 IRGaS Ae 35a. eae ree es pe 3
1 5-{0 9p: 12 A Pe ae ey 1 Peppers: (cess ape eee 4
Brussels Sprouts... 5.5. 40: 2 P@ASaL? ute a eee eel
Waal esis ches oy sess Nene 14 Potatoes, white ........... 10
WAEAGON Yr cness..c.s0se. Bee ashe i Potatoes, sweet ........... 3
arhot Sie vate ee 4 Pump 2. soe eee cy?
CaM OWeI Ts Felsina ad ots cet 3 Radistes. 30/024 i.e eee 8
COSI y sect Sats feito ee ene 9 Rhubarb.) cs. 6.o0s..- cee 2
COlCHIAG : Sh cite coins 3's sien 1 Sakumajima: <4... 0.62 eee 3
CHIVES! Hn cen Salo eitone: 1 Salsify. co. 4.6 os Se if
COP SW eC oe | sr Porte eles 10 Scarzonera: .: i825... 1
GUCUIEDEIR, pale Mote cle 5 Shallots... 2tn0 ieee eee 1
RIP s WaMGS gigas, Saas aa 1 Spinach: ..°%<o 6: 5. sae 3
FUROV Gr ss poy ioc ia aon aie ee ee 3 Squash) isis 3,4 See eee 5
Elorseradishy” 4046 4 c0.a-eee i} Sunflower 1. fos... heseee ee al
aE sc 2s eet ay oc eee 2 ‘TOMATOES... 4. cn ee 16
KOh). RAD: 25. hateae see: il TPR! i-5.0°3 oe eae 4
Tetewee! iki: pyc ore eee 19 WG: 3b tee ieee: aye ee 2
Marty nia: 3. cai... clee gee, 1 —
Qa oe nee ee 2 Ocal ies seek :o0 2 eee eee 180

Fruits and Berries

Name No. of varieties Name No. of varieties”
Apple... 6.0... eee eee 10 INGGEMING nd eee 8. i
Apricot .................. AeNONCRS ee ierca te ati ye 5. 6
Bite DEMies 2 7.3. 7si). tan 1 ears Hees LL 10
Canteloupes elapse 5 GuUNINIGE Stes Seen es cr. lls hs 3

SHETMOS 4 fe coete rss hintsta te eae ee + R .
WASPDEITIES 522. arcs =. ss 3

UETOMES |. 500 earth tas oe eee 3 . ;
European plums ........... 6 SEA WiDGETLCS met ieee edt 1
eGoseberriese nt: |e ees 2 Watermelon .............. ~
GRapese%..S cere ae Sameera ee 3 ==
Japanese plums ioc =2)aeieis: ots 3 No 7) a oe Sa oe 64

Forage
Name No. of varieties Name No. of varieties
NAG AMER. ..'si.ie so ree eee it MTGE septa eis hs oe cle ees 2 2
AM SukG: fy :cae5 5 agent che aL Dat Sirs stern. genie steers ep ae an 1
Beets, Sugar) niggas casees «s 1 RVG See ere cans. s hike hate te eae: if
Canada field peas .......... i SORGM mM icone Sat ae 1
COMER es: < tee eer ee 3 PREGSTILG wee arts ec eeepc ee
Corn, dield! 4G je ee 2 WE Chit aeraeri cleo nea umete sn 1
COW ADCAS: 0% Wahoos i —
Mangie Wurzel 5.4. 2423230: 2 MNO tel erates spare went yo 5se 19
Foliage and Flowering Plants

YN U1 011 Nae ere a ae ee it Ere Suaetrey te asec svistc roti ne sector at oat cs 3
FALSEED GS) Sher s-:0 ciniat skeieatatonse 3 BAVC Fee acl erte tes) sie laze te ais 2
BeGSsePa 6.50 acme oct ar 1 er Ret ea ee rene ae 2
Bulbous:’begonias ......... 4 Nasturtium, dwatt «2.2. 2.-- 4
Cmlem Olay coyote ie iva oo ele 1 Nasturtium, climbing ...... 5
CCAMIAOMITETIN! oo oa ais vg wee ee 1 ONAN teas een ei A ee eee 3
Cpralngar Soyo cvsrdiae a bos oe eos 1 RASA ee aces = bints opens sess 6
(8,0) 00 22 WME oan a 1 Perennial phlox «22.25 6.0. 6
Chrysanthemum. ....:-.. +. 6 REI C likes lok tages sivas etree ee i
APIO CUS GS Fo Soper td et ere eas 3 UO SCS Ee Sei tie ci niiectess «idiots 15
Cy Press ViMer 2). 6.665 2b 2 Saalivdiel 2/6 ier tetica sw eta aise ae 1
AH arts aie Clam eu ls ee so 5. es 3 Scarlet FUMMer: 25.5 siacsnis > - it
anes, OPN ces cease + aes 3 Shrub, scented, .022.20.: ... i
UHMLP ER em Soe ieeels fd a spss ease 3 Siveer DEAS. at cq. Gs 6
MOPGet-MEeNOt 2) sss. 6 o's 1 Sweet William ja. osu oe 5 1
[SMCS 10 a gmseraat 1 eee tr PP 4 PRN EROIAN 5 clk te. Geek os 1
GeLanitam) (22 954" cokes oi 4 WoO LG pemrans cee ake diy siete so a ate 3
Gitadioluge. 3. cats ee: eel 6 Wald’ Cucumber 2.0... 22). . 1
CCHS Sealey Was aegis codes os Foose 3 ——
EG TG CIs 2ivyart uae te ess se 4 Joy eH LR alg 7
Tee avo MNO FE Th neg, Ste oases RG cael ne 380 varieties

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¥ WEATHER REPORT ¥

7 NHE Weather Report is “official’’ only after May 18th as onthis date the U.S
Instruments were placed in position. From September lst until January
1st, the temperature was recorded only in the early morning; therefore I give

but the minimum; from January on, the thermometer was taken four times daily by
two tested thermometers; the precipitation was, of course, not taken until the Govern-
ment rain gage was installed. One glance at July’s record will show the difficulties
under which we labored during that month. Eight inches of rain fall is a pretty high
record, but it must be remembered that this precipitation did not take place entirely
in rain falls, but that the air was surcharged with moisture for days at a time, while
the temperature remained high. While May’s record does not read amiss, the month
was one of continued high winds during a moistureless period, conditions very
hard for plant life to bear. The Maximum and Minimum temperatures record the
highest and lowest points the thermometer reached during the month.

Month Temperature Number Days Total Precipitation
Maximum | Minimum Bright Cloudy
1905 |
September 40 16 14 Rained 6 times
October 28 22 9 Rained twice
November 18 18 12 Rained 4 times
December 18 15 16 Rained 5 times
1906
January 63 9 10 21 Rain and Snow 10 times
February 84 6% ez, ht Rain and Snow 4 times
March 53 15 16 15 Snow and Rain 6 times
April 73 30 17 13 Rain 6 times
May 91 36 18 13 Last Half of Month 4. 07
June 92 4214 19 11 4.68 in.
July 87 5314 10 21 8.34 in.
August 92 53 12 19 4.04 in.
September 89 40 21 9 .86 in.

149

MAP SHOWING

LONG ISLAND R.R. \
SYSTEM *

AND
MONTAUK STEAMBOAT et LINE
O 9 4

Summary

Giving data, also conclusions o Broad Gauge Men

HE history of Twentieth Century Pioneering has been written
from a record kept day unto day in two diaries; this record
being supplemented by a very large number of photographs

to graphically portray the methods and happenings incident to the sub-
jugation of acreage, frequently referred to as “wild land,” in the quick-
est time possible. Unquestionably many improvements will suggest
themselves to even the casual reader.

Three hundred and eighty varieties of plant growth were suc-
cessfully developed or naturalized. This great number was experi-
mented with in order to prove conclusively to the world at large the
fact, well known to real Long Islanders, that any plant growable in
the Temperate Zone could be developed far above the average in qual-
ity, and further, many little known or entirely unknown growths of
marked food value in their native countries would readily naturalize
with the particularly favorable conditions of Long Island climate and
soil.

In no respects were the experiments with unusual plants a failure.
The failures, as enlarged upon in the body of this book, were without
exception with those species long ago proven particularly profitable
on the Island. And the failures upon Experimental Station Number
1 were duplicated not only on Long Island, but throughout the East be-

cause of the practically unique atmospheric conditions prevalent during
the summer of 1906.

150

Commercial fertilizer was not used or experimented with because
it was not needed in the virgin soil, whose only lack was humus, or de-
caying vegetable matter. A particularly small quantity of manure was
used in order to show that a very small amount of capital could be
made to yield more profit when invested in agricultural pursuits upon
the long libeled Long Island territory still lying idle and without reason
called “pine barrens” and “scrub-oak waste,” than from acres long
tilled by “‘penny-wise and pound-foolish” owners.

To plant and cultivate thirteen acres, the majority of them inten-
sively, but three men were employed. Again, to show primarily that a
small amount of capital would carry on the labor end of market-garden-
ing, also that three men with modern machinery could do what from five
to eight experienced hands would accomplish with only the strongest
of effort without the aid of labor-saving devices. The use of me-
chanical drills and hand cultivators proved time and time again, by
measurement and by clock, that one man with a machine whose first
cost as from $7 to $10 and with a life lasting many years, equaled ten
men with a hoe.

Many experiments in packing and marketing were tried, proving
conclusively that individuality in packing paid. That there was a
great market for strictly choice, fresh, products of the earth and
further that the principle proven so successful by manufacturers and
mercantile houses, must be pursued to secure the largest returns by
those who select to go to Mother Nature for a livelihood. ‘The trend
of the times is summed up in the phrase “from producer to consumer
direct.” The consumer secures not only absolutely fresh food, but
vegetables and berries and fruits that have ripened, as the chemistry
of nature requires, upon the parent stalk at no increase in cost, but, in
fact, at a marked reduction; while the grower who has given time and
labor, thought and capital, receives a return sufficient to prove that
agriculture is a business, assuring not only a comfortable livelihood
but profits fully equal to those of any manufacturing or mercantile
pursuit. It is sincerely hoped that the following data will prove of
interest and value.

Total area of Long Island, 1,076,480 acres. The west end, com-
prising Kings, Queens and Nassau Counties, 337,363 acres. Suffolk
County, the easterly two-thirds of the Island, covers 739,117 acres.
Of this over 40,000 are without assessment. This non-producing terri-
tory consists mainly of beaches and salt meadows, while 200,000 acres
lie ide and with merely nominal assessment against them, much of
them covered with second and third growth timber consisting prin-
cipally of oak, chestnut and pine which is not considered large enough
for cord wood. Some of it through lack of forethought has been
burned over by the forest fires so prevalent generally in the spring.
As a matter of fact the cord wood on much of this idle acreage would
pay and more than pay for the clearing and the first cost. Practically
all of it is absolutely virgin soil with every requisite for raising a high
quality and big yield of flowers, fruits and vegetables.

Prices of uncleared land vary from $10 to $30 per acre. Cleared

land, some of it fenced and with dwellings and farm buildiings upon
it, varies in price from $100 to $200 per acre. Much of this land is ex-
tremely valuable having been kept up by the waste matter of live
stock of many species. Other acreage has been handled by progressive
men who knew the value of cover crops and green manure. Some, of
course, has been handled with less intelligence but quickly responds
to methods proven rational and assuring yearly increase of fertility.

Every section of Long Island is readily accessible. The narrow
island has three divisions of the Long Island Railroad paralleling each
other; one on the south shore, one through the central section and one
along the north shore, making it practically impossible to locate five
miles from the railroad facilities, and much of the unsubdued wood-
land lies within seventy miles of New York City, the greatest market in
the world.

The Long Island Railroad Company was chartered in 1834, con-
struction completed to Hicksville in 1887 and in 1844 the main line
had reached the terminal at Greenport, which, with a connecting line
of steamers, opened up New England markets to the farmers at the
east end of Suffolk County, which rapidly developed that portion of
the fertile island. Railroad statistics show that the Long Island Rail-
road is the only railroad in the United States which has retained its
original name and charter unchanged. Long Island, settled in 1640
both from England and New England, the particularly favorable clim-
ate backing up the fertile and tractable soil, soon brought settlers from
neighboring states as well as across the water. The east end built up
speedily and settlements first followed west along the thrifty tree-
covered north shore. Huntington, mainly because of its good harbor,
developed strongly and furnished in the early days the small villages
of New York and Brooklyn with bread from its bakeries. Westbury,
developed from Hempstead, was at this time supplying milk to these
same small villages and the extreme east end was supplying meat,
which was driven on the hoof to be slaughtered by the predecessors
of the purveyers of animal food to the metropolis of to-day. As New
York and Brooklyn grew the wealthier classes selected Long Island
for their country homes. In Colonial days the territory just east of Long
Island City was covered by beautiful country places and we were en-
tertaining celebrated foreigners, Lafayette among others. Driven east-
ward by natural development of the great cities, the Westbury Hills
attracted those longing for great estates and the dairymen exchanged
the milk pail for the coupon-cutting scissors. At Glen Cove, between
Oyster Bay and Hempstead, and at Amityville the rapid settlement
by the wealthier classes continued and as transportation facilities were
increased, the home-seeker of more modest means followed, until the
territory up to the Suffolk line was dotted thickly with growing vil-
Jages, now for the greater part suburbanwards. Suffolk was an un:
known country sparsely settled and devoted mainly to farming. The
natural eastward trend, however, which started in Colonial days, has
not abated, the newcomers in Suffolk as a rule selecting their home
sites near the island’s shores, leaving the interior still unsubdued.

152

Topographically the island’s surface is most varied. Its north
shore is composed of wooded hills dropping abruptly to the waters of
the sound, and sloping gradually to the ocean shore leaving its cen-
tral section a gently undulating and very easily tilled territory. Its
climate is remarkably temperate, records showing the range between
May and October to be 56 in October and but 71.8 in July. The waters
surrounding the island tempering the heat in summer as well as the
cold in winter. The records show between 10 to 15 degrees in fayur
of Long Island. Government report shows the average date of killing
frosts on Long Island to be October 20th, about one month later than
in Brooklyn or New York. The same report shows that in the year
1898 there were 312 sunshiny days, a record only claimed in such semi-
tropical states as California or Florida, such statistics explain in
part why Long Island is the most favored spot on the Atlantic coast.
It is the only land lying directly across the prevailing south-west winds
of summer, which blowing from the ocean reach it unobstructed and
uncontaminated. Its soil is known to the geologist as Norfolk sandy
loam, varying in depth from two and one-half to five feet. Its under-
drainage being ideal and far superior to that secured by ditching or
tiles, composed chiefly of glacial boulders and gravel, surplus moisture
is carried off as it slowly perculates through the soil above, which con-
tains sufficient clay to retard the moisture for the needs of plant life.
This same drainage is given as the reason that of the ten healthiest
spots in the world Long Island stands third, the first and second being
far up in the mountains of Europe.

In the agricultural statistics of New York State the island holds
a high place; its area is given as about one-twenty-fifth of the entire
state. In Suffolk County over one-half of this land is undeveloped.
The population statistics of the early days are interesting.

Population
1693 1698 1703 1723
New York State.... 2,932 17,848 20,749 == 40,584
New York City..... 477 4,937 4,436 7,248
Hone island ....... 1,482 8,261 9,653 15,650

For a century and a half, while New York State was largely agri-
cultural, the island in population and revenue was the mainstay of
the Empire State, running up to one-half of the state’s total.

Its crop yield led all other portions, not excepting the Mohawk and
Genesee valleys’ famous farms.

The average yield per acre from old state records show

Average yield per acre

Long Island All other sections
Onn aso he eee 35 bushels 28 bushels
WVNGAE it 3, ot cee eee 19 bushels 14 bushels
Oath en Cae 26 bushels 17 bushels
1°)" 5 a aie Etat eM 17 bushels 11 bushels

By) We sh cyan 28 bushels 16 bushels

153

Suffolk County’s settlement is strangely sparse, there being roughly,
one and three-fourths persons per acre, averaging the island as a whole.
An anomaly for a territory which is the logical residence section of
Greater New Yorkers and which for generations has proven itself to
be the natural source of supply of milk and vegetables needed by the
ereat cities whose requirements augment stupendously each year.
These two foods being of little value and even a menace to health,
except when strictly fresh, must perforce be drawn from supply points
close by. For even the most studious care and skilful refrigeration
fails to compensate for the extended time necessary to reach the con-
sumer from far-off regions. Milk cannot be kept in perfect statu quo
nor can the change from vegetable sugar to starchy products of no
human food value be checked, hence in the future the easterly half
of Long Island will be relied upon to furnish the freshest milk, vege-
tables, fruits and flowers for the New York markei.

The Long Island Railroad, continually anticipating the need of
growers, is increasing its express service and runs special trains to car-
ry freight cars of vegetables on standard passenger-train schedules from
growing localities to markets. In 1906 its special service placed vege-
tables in the hands of city consumers inside of four hours after they
were packed and shipped from a distance of nearly seventy miles.

In 1905 the freight shipments of vegetables by rail alone amounted
to: berries, 483 tons; cauliflower, 10,075 tons; pickles, 20,962 tons; po-
tatoes, 53,724 tons, requiring 3,250 freight cars to transport this large
yield to market, where the growers secured for potatoes, cauliflower,
asparagus, cabbage, celery, etc., etc., prices ranging from ten per cent
to forty per cent above those offered for the same varieties raised
elsewhere.

The express service handled 3,500 tons of cauliflower, 375 tons of
lima beans, 160 tons of Brussels sprouts, 175 tons of peaches, 450 tons
of tomatoes.

Herewith Long Island data of yield per acre compiled from care-
fully kept records extending over a number of years:

POTATOES.—Potatoes yield per acre 200 to 400 bushels; average
price 75c. per bushel, varying from 50c., when bulk of crop is marketed,
to $1.50 and $2 for early and for potatoes kept into the winter. The
average gross return per acre is $225, cost of production $56.50, net
profit $169 per acre.

CAULIFLOWER.—Long Island alone can grow this delicacy in
large quantities in the open air, the natural precipitation making this.
possible. This crop requires care, but protected and blanched, its
floweret-formed head nets a profit per acre averaging over $200.

CABBAGE.—Average twenty-two tons per acre. Price from $8
to $10 per ton. Easy to grow, gather and pack. One grower netted
$935 from three acres.

CABBAGE SEED.—One of Long Island’s specialties, being the
biggest producer, nets over $400 per acre.

154

CELERY.—Long Island grown frequently commands a premium.
Net profits vary widely from $300 to $1,000 according to the care given
the crop.

BRUSSELS SPROUTS.—Cost to grow $30. Yield frequently over
3,000 quarts of miniature cabbage-heads per acre, which sell at 10 to
30 cents per quart. Average net return $555 per acre.

ASPARAGUS.—Yields for thirty years, but good business policy
dictates renewal after ten years’ cropping. Profitable crop after three
years. Average yield per acre 2,500 bunches. Value 124 to 25c. per
bunch. Net yearly return for 10 years averaged over $550 per acre.

I*RUITS.—Long Island has developed many famous strains. The
Newtown pippin was valued so highly that in 1758 England exempted
this pippin from the payment of duty.

PEARS have netted from $600 to $800 per acre.

QUINCES especially adapted to the island, $1,500 being secured
by one grower from a single acre.

PEACHES do well, especially on the hills.

PLUMS.—The Japanese varieties thrive marvelously, paying the
third year a good margin.

SMALL FRUITS.—Gooseberries yield 200 to 400 bushels per acre,
cost to raise and market 50c. per bushel, bring $3 to $4 per bushel.
Average net $900 per acre.

CURRANTS.—Annual yield sure and extremely heavy, two to four
pounds per bush, frequently net $300 to $400 per acre.

BLACKBERRIES AND RASPBERRIES thrive well and return
upward of $300 per acre.

STRAWBERRIES yield heavily, as high as $800 per acre having
been secured.

CRANBERRIES.—Long Island crops rank very high. yield over
200 crates per acre; value $2 and upward per crate.

GRAPES.—At present grown mainly for home use. Thrive splen-
didly and would pay well.

SEEDS,PLANTS AND BULBS.—Floral growth has proven ex-
tremely successful on the island and growers of specialties as well as
a general line are exceptionally prosperous.

It is not always possible to see ourselves as others see us, but the
case of the Long Island Railroad’s Experimental Station Number 1
at Wading River, proves the exception to the general rule as the follow-
ing extracts from letters written by prominent men will attest:

August 15, 1906.

“Among the pleasant recollections that I carried away are the im-
pressions of the possibilities that lay dormant in this so-called “scrub-
oak waste” land. It was a revelation in several respects. I was greatly
surprised at the character and nature of the soil, especially the 314-foot
loam section your cellar shows overlying one of the most perfect beds of

155

gravel as an underdrain that I have ever seen. What you have done
in less than a year on the so-called “waste lands” is convincing proof
that all this section needs is intelligent management and hard work to
bring out the latent possibilities in vegetable and fruit growing. The
character of the products I saw on your place was most striking. I
have never seen a better showing of alfalfa or a more profuse growth of
corn than you have at the present time. Your alfalfa plot, particularly
the one on which soil from an old alfalfa field was used for inoculation
is a wonder.

The work you are doing will certainly have a far-reaching effect
in practically demonstrating the possibilities of vegetable and fruit
growing in that section. Your method of clearing land by blowing
out the stumps with dynamite is unique and interesting. This method
will be of great value to others.

Pror. W. G. Jounson,

Editor, The American A griculturist.
Orange Judd Co.

August 16, 1906.
All were surprised at the wonders of your farm work and will talk
about it for months to come. The “Home Hamper” is an excellent
method of packing and is a fine method of shipping the splendid vege-
tables raised at Experiment Station Number 1.
Cuartes E. SHEpPArpD,

Editor, Brooklyn Daily Eagle.

August 15, 1906.

You could not have secured a better truck and garden soil if you
had excavated and made it to order. The demonstration you made in
growing such a variety of first quality garden crops in one short season
on wild soil and without chemical fertilizer I consider nothing short of
marvelous.

I am especially gratified at the fine showing of alfalfa and forage
crops. You have demonstrated not only the possibility but the ease
with which dairy herds may be maintained by the soiling system on
soils always considered too light and poor for such purposes. The
problem of an adequate milk supply for New York City becomes
more acute each year and the opening of a vast territory of production
within two hours’ distance of this great market, in a section hitherto
considered impossible, should prove a magnificent opening for the
dairy interest.

Cou F. E. Bonsteet,
Editor, Farming.
Doubleday, Page & Co.

July 22, 1906.
You have delivered the goods. Long Island wood ashes and Yan-

kee muscle and brains do work miracles.
Wa ter S. FuNNELL,

Editor, Brooklyn Daily Times.

August 1, 1906.
Squashes and cucumbers arrived, melons were great. You are cer-

tainly producing the goods.
Cor. A. G. Peacock,

Editor, N. Y. Herald.

156

August 2, 1906.

I expect to indulge in an old-fashioned country dinner when I get
home. You are a bigger and a better farmer than Horace Greely
ever was.

Joun A. SLEICHER,
Editor, Leslie Weekly.
President, Judge Co.

Brooklyn, August 13, 1906.

I was very much surprised to see what a fine lot of vegetables
you have raised on what apparently was unproductive soil. I think
that the experiment made by the Long Island Railroad was a very
wise one. I have enjoyed watching the progress and development of
this undertaking and I feel sure that when the people know how pro-
ductive the soil is and how comparatively easy and economical the land
can be cleared there will be many who wish to acquire good farm hold-
ings within easy access of the city of New York.

Jupce Wm. J. Youngs.

September 17, 1906.
, The work of the Experimental Station is very interesting and
edible.
Lewis WILEY,
Adv. Mgr. New York Times.

September 15, 1906.

The tomatoes were delicious. The first really good tomatoes I
had this summer. The novelty of real sugar corn was also delightful
to the palate. The radishes were sound and crisp, the beans fine and
the potatoes about as perfect as any I have ever eaten.

There are many who would appreciate the opportunity to get really
fresh vegetables. I think there is an especially good opening in New
York for real sugar corn and real lima beans. You have the advantage
and can command a higher price for the real thing, which is almost
impossible to get in the market or even from the fancy greengrocer.

Wo. Wirt MItts,
Editor, N. Y. Evening Mail.

August 9, 1906.
The hamper containing the very attractive samples of your prod-
ucts was duly received. It is work in the right direction and, systemat-
ically pursued, cannot fail to prove of lasting benefit not only to the
promoters but to the community at large.
E. G. Sanporn,
Editor, The World.

September 18, 1906.
The melons were fine, first-class, in fact, any term implying excel-
lence may justly be applied to them.

a

S. W. Cooper,
Editor, Brooklyn Daily Eagle.

August 6, 1906.

It is needless to say that the contents of the baskets were used

and enjoyed, which is not surprising in view of the fact that the entire

eontents of the baskets were the products of the finest land in the

world. I always have been a great believer in Long Island and felt
that all it needed was a show.

Wa. Ho.mes, Jr.,
Bus. Mgr. N. Y. Press.

;

August 1, 1906.
If you are going into the business of furnishing “Home Hampers”
I will be able to get you some customers.
Wo. A. Derrina,
Adv. Mgr. N. Y. Sun

June 12, 1906.
The “‘firstlings” of the crop came duly to hand and were highly ap-
preciated. Will you kindly permit me to thank you heartily for the
token of your skill as a tiller of the soil and the proof it afforded of the
availability of Long Island soil.
F. Dana REED,
Editor, Brooklyn Daily Eagle.

September 13, 1906.

I am exceedingly interested in the excellent report concerning
the alfalfa experiments. I think the alfalfa has made a most excellent
showing. That the results speak well for the possibilities of alfalfa
upon this type of Long Island soil when given careful treatment, which
appears to be essential.

J. W. WEstaGatTe,
Asst. Agrostologist, U. S. Dept. Agriculture.

From the standpoint of development one of the most important
features of the year’s work is the practical demonstration made by the
Long Island Railroad Company through neighbor Fullerton and his
able assistants that the wild lands of Suffolk may be made to produce as
good fruits, vegetables and fodder as any man need desire. The theory
of ‘‘waste lands” on Long Island is knocked higher than a kite. The
way is opened for truck farms, fruit farms, dairy farms and every other
kind of a farm in a region which has heretofore been left to the uses of
the rabbit, the deer and the wild birds.

—Uncle Jerry Wockers, in The County Review.

The above are from representative men and prove conclusively
that the Long Island Railroad’s Experimental Station Number 1 pro-
duced, within one year of clearing, high-grade crops. The publicity
given this effort to put the so-called “waste lands” in a condition to take
their proper place in the world’s work of yielding their full quota of
revenue has been so successful, that development is now under way in
various sections, and anticipating the rapid development of the thou-
sands of acres of unused land on Long Island along agricultural lines,
the Long Island Railroad Company has in hand plans for aiding in the
establishment of a produce market where trains from each division of
the railroad can be run direct, and thus furnish quick service and an
adequate distributing point for the handling of products which will
be grown on Long Islana soil.

Most clearly does the following editorial sum up the situation and
show the motive underlying the Long Island Railroad’s demonstration
of the Island’s “waste lands” fertility.

Eden and Arcadia at Home

Commentators are not, even yet, all agreed ,upon the location of
the Garden of Eden, nor is the local habitation of classic Arcadia as
clear as the associations which surround the name. Until quite recently,
though, no one, even the most learned or astute, entertained any serious
suspicion that either of these inviting or historic localities belonged to
Long Island. Within the last few months, however, a movement has
been in good faith begun by long-headed, practical business men, few,
if any, of whom can be suspected of idealism or rainbow-chasing, which
may end by the demonstration that the island on which we live, and of
which we know so little, has in it possibilities which may yet make it
the garden and the beauty spot of the entire Atlantic coast, not to say
of the whole country. Three-quarters of a million acres of as fair land
as lies outdoors offers inviting, almost unlimited, field for the experi-
ment; the commercial environment is complete—that is to say, the
markets and the money rewards are at hand; and so the appeal which
is both the beginning and end of the most of the activities of mankind
is direct and immediate. Reclamation of what have heretofore been
regarded by the lazy and indifferent as merely barren wastes is already
inaugurated on broad lines, both for immediate and remote development,
with the greatest and most insatiable markets of the world at the very
door, ready to pay even the highest prices for everything which the soil
can produce. Never, perhaps, has a great industrial operation of un-
bounded possibilities and reaching into the far future been more advan-
tageously begun than this for the new era of agricultural Long Island.
Everybody knows that the real estate boom which has inflated values on
the western end of the Island, almost to the bursting or breaking point,
must sooner or later meet the inevitable, but for the work which is now,
for the first time, being seriously undertaken no such condition attaches,
no such future impends. Intensive farming is the order of the day
everywhere. The cream of the Western prairies has been skimmed, with
the demonstration that ten acres, or even five, are enough; the trolley
and the telephone have put an end to rural isolation; the cliff dwellers
of the skyscrapers of the great cities are finding more and more every
year the disadvantages of their environment, and the tendency to return
to mother earth, to live close to nature, grows stronger.

Apart, moreover, from the immediate and local interest in the un-
dertaking which is to transform the greater part of the Island, to
ehange what the uninformed and the indifferent have regarded as des-
erts and barrens to blooming and fertile fields, the movement deserves
attention, both from its economic and political aspects. The difficulties
of real republican government in these congested human centers, the
problems of administration, sanitation, education, and all that goes to
make up life are the most serious, the most perplexing with which the
civic administration of the present day concerns itself; and no solution
has yet been found to compare, in any degree, with that of distribution
of the people in homes of their own, supported by their own labor
upon the land. If the Long Island experiment does nothing else than
to spread out among the rolling picturesque hills and dales of the north
shore; the broad, inviting plains of the central Island, or the breezy

159

expanses of the southern coast, even a fraction of the people who may,
in these surroundings, find prosperous and happy homes, it will abun-
dantly justify itself. The public learns only by object lessons, and
one like that which Long Island offers the opportunity and the reward
will not long go unheeded, certainly in the entire Atlantic coast chain
of towns and cities.

Another factor which should not be overlooked in the movement
is the close and direct co-operation of capital. Indeed, the corporation
which furnishes transportation to the Island, is really the genius of the
whole undertaking, working out the practical details, gathering infor-
mation and prosecuting experiments at its own cost, handling its trains
and even extending its lines, all for the benefit and advantage of those
who co-operate with it andwho primarily receive the benefit of the devel-
opment. It has been sometimes said that it would have been a good thing
for the Pennsylvania if it had bought the Island when it brought the
road. It may turn out to be better than that if it develops the Island
and so gives to the owners of its lands, both small and great, share and
share alike, the unearned increment, the inevitable advance in value
which must come from the change in the condition, the use and the
product of the lands. In other words, while Congress, commissioners
and courts legislate and wrangle over railroad rates, the corporation
most directly concerned sets an example by lending its capital, its ser-
vices, and its enthusiasm in promoting a project which must give to
its beneficiaries far greater and more permanent advantage than it
possibly can to the railroad itself. Mr. Hill, perhaps the ablest rail-
road administrator living, worked this all out, long ago, in his North-
western development. The Long Island adopts the same principle,
with methods modified to suit the conditions, and it is only reasonable to
anticipate that what has been done on a large scale and upon thousands
of square miles of prairie may be repeated, even more profitably, at
our own doors and upon the plains of Long Island.

The incident illustrates, again, the old maxim that “the Lord
helps those who help themselves,” and that those who are looking for
the chance to do something usually are able to find work close at hand.
Perhaps, also, there is a side light on the much discussed municipal
ownership idea. If anyone believes that the agricultural development
of Long Island could be accomplished in any other way than that by
which it has been undertaken, the experiments of municipal bridge
operations, of tunnel construction, of street opening, and of public
buildings, go very far toward demonstrating a negative. The cor-
poration and the public are abundantly able to meet each other half
way, at least, in their own interests, and anyone who will take the
trouble to study the methods and the policy recognized between the
railroad and the people of the Island will see an excellent illustration
of the practical, common sense way of doing things. Taken in its
large sense, the experiment of Long Island, though now in the day of
small things, in its very beginning, is one of which a great deal more
will be heard which will warrant the careful study and attention of
those who undertake to read from events and from social and indus-
trial changes their laws and lessons, as well as of those who are merely
looking for a good thing, for a chance to get rich, not quick, but
certainly.

—Hditorial, Brooklyn Standard Union.

This broad gauge article written by Mr. Herbert L. Bridgman,
editor, explorer and philanthropist, is assuredly a fitting

FINIS.

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