n fertility
and productiveness. The crops, on the average, are certainly at least
double what they were when I bought the farm thirteen years ago; and
much of this increase has taken place during the last five or six years,
and I expect to see still greater improvement year by year.
"Never mind all that," said the Deacon; "we all know that manure will
enrich land, and I will concede that your farm has greatly improved, and
can not help but improve if you continue to make and use as much
manure."
"I expect to make more and more manure every year," said I. "The larger
the crops, the more manure we can make; and the more manure we make, the
larger the crops."
The real point of difference between my plan of managing manure, and the
plan adopted by the Deacon, is essentially this: I aim to keep all my
manure in a compact pile, where it will slowly ferment all winter. The
Deacon throws his horse-manure into a heap, just outside the stable
door, and the cow-manure into another heap, and the pig-manure into
another heap. These heaps are more or less scattered, and are exposed to
the rain, and snow, and frost. The horse-manure is quite likely to
ferment too rapidly, and if in a large heap, and the weather is warm, it
not unlikely "fire-fangs" in the center of the heap. On the other hand,
the cow-manure lies cold and dead, and during the winter freezes into
solid lumps.
I wheel or cart all my manure into one central heap. The main object is
to keep it as compact as possible. There are two advantages in this:
1st, the manure is less exposed to the rain, and (2d), when freezing
weather sets in, only a few inches of the external portion of the heap
is frozen. I have practised this plan for several years, and can keep my
heap of manure slowly fermenting during the whole winter.
But in order to ensure this result, it is necessary to begin making the
heap before winter sets in. The plan is this:
Having selected the spot in the yard most convenient for making the
heap, collect all the manure that can be found in the sheepyards, sheds,
cow and horse stables, pig-pens, and hen-house, together with leaves,
weeds, and refuse from the garden, and wheel or cart it to the intended
heap. If you set a farm-man to do the work, tell him you want to make a
hot-bed about five feet high, six feet wide, and six feet long. I do not
think I have ever seen a farm where enough material could not be found,
say in November, to make such a hea
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