Transplant in the Fall

1916

In general, the fall is the best time to plant trees and shrubs on the home grounds. When planted in the fall, the plant is given an opportunity to spend its strength in producing new root growth rather than top growth. These new roots are the "feeding" roots, and if well established will give added vigor to the plant the following year. The protection and health of the root system is the most important consideration in plant growing.

There are some exceptions to this rule. If the summer and fall seasons have been unusually dry and the plant has suffered from drought, it may be best to wait until early spring to transplant, as plants may recuperate during the winter. In some parts of the country, late summer planting of evergreens has proved best, but for Missouri early spring planting seems more satisfactory.

It is best to transplant all trees and shrubs in the fall. It is possible to move plants after they have leafed out, but there is some danger of over-evaporation of moisture from the leaves and bark which will exhaust the strength of the roots. The plant will then show wilt and spend its strength on new leaves instead of readjusting its roots. To lessen the danger from evaporation, it is always well to cut the tops back severely, and if in leaf, the trunk of a tree should be wrapped with straw or sphagnum moss to keep it moist. It is better to transplant early in the morning or late in the afternoon.

Rainy or cloudy days are the best ones in which to do planting. Transplant after the leaves drop in the autumn or before they open in the spring. Remove injured roots, broken branches, and cut back the tops. Preserve the fine hair-like roots; they are the feeders, the others only serve as anchors. Never allow the roots to dry out in the wind or sun. Cover them with earth or wet straw. Dig the hole much larger than the spread of the roots and do not bend or crowd them. Tamp the soil firmly and closely about the roots, but leave about two inches of loose soil at the surface. These planting rules are important. A tree lives longer than a man; take time and care in planting it, and, in general, plant in the fall.

—The Fryeburg Post, Fryeburg, Maine, Sept. 26, 1916, p. 4.

Grain for Cows in Fall

1916

Many dairymen have learned that it pays to keep their cows milking during the last part of the fall and winter. Last November the owner of herd G in our testing association was feeding very little grain, just a few pounds a day to each cow, whether milking or not. He told me that he didn't think it would pay to feed any more grain to his cows until they began to freshen. After talking the thing over he decided to begin feeding grain in proportion to the amount of milk produced, following the rule of about one pound grain to 3½ pounds milk.

The next month I came around I noticed quite a change; most of his cows had increased in milk, and cows that had been kept at a loss in November were making a little profit above feed cost in December. His herd summary showed a loss of $13.73 for November. In December he jumped from a loss of $13.73 to a profit of $28. His cows had increased in production enough to pay for extra grain feed and their hay and still have a very good profit left. Had he not begun feeding more grain his cows undoubtedly would have shrunk in milk flow in December, and consequently his loss for that month would have been even greater than it was in November.

In another herd the owner was planning to cut out the grain ration for most of his cows. He told me that he never fed grain in the winter because he didn't think that it paid. He said: "Grain is high and it will not pay." I began explaining to him where he would lose if he left out the grain. He is an old man and has been connected with the dairy business a number of years. After talking a while about it he said: "I'm in this association to learn what I can, and I'll try your plan of feeding for a while, if it don't put me into the hole too bad."

Having the weight of milk from each cow he figured out approximately the amount of grain each cow should have giving about one pound grain to 3½ pounds milk. He has fed according to this rule ever since. As a result his herd made a profit of better than $45 for November, December and January. His cows freshened in the early spring so one would not expect a very large profit from a herd of cows due to freshen in two to four months.

On my January visit to his place he told me his cows had always been dry at that time of year and it was quite unusual for him to take milk to the creamery during at least a couple of months in the year. He said: "I am convinced that it has paid to feed some grain and thereby get enough more milk to pay for hay and grain and have a little profit left over rather than not to feed grain and let the cows dry off as they usually did and consequently not pay for the hay they eat."

The other advantages of feeding grain which are not shown by figures are as follows: First, manure is worth more, ton for ton, than if no grain is fed; secondly, cattle are undoubtedly in a better condition; third, a cow that is fed some grain will not eat as much hay as when no grain used. — Archie Holden, New Hampshire in New England Homestead.

Lessons of Winter

1874

There is no season of the year so well calculated to bind us together in the ties of a common brotherhood as is winter. Nature claims and receives our sympathy in all her varied aspects.

In the spring we rejoice in her renewed activity, and greet with delight her balmy air and budding beauty. As the summer approaches, we disperse to behold her in new phases and to enjoy her cool breezes from mountain and sea. In the fall we witness with tender sadness the departure of the gorgeous foliage and rich bloom, and still linger lovingly among her shadows. But when nature puts on her winter's dress, she bears a different message to us all.

With the bleak wind and stinging frost she sends us from her presence for a time, and bids us draw closer to one another for warmth and comfort. She brings more forcibly to the mind the delights of home and friends, and at the same time speaks impressively of the pain and sorrow, poverty and woe that call for sympathy and help.

Each season has its appropriate lesson, and that of winter is surely intended to strengthen within us the spirit of humanity that shall blossom into brotherly love and kindness. As the dusk of twilight calls the children away from outdoor play to assemble in the home, and brighten the family with their cheerful presence, so winter calls the human family from their summer rambles into a more intimate communion and sympathy with each other.

It is a pleasant task to learn one part of winter's teachings, that which relates to social and domestic union. The festivities of Thanksgiving and Christmas, the long winter evenings, the cheerful fireside, the lectures, concerts and social gatherings, the hilarity of the young, and the cheerful sympathy of the old all draw families and friends together in closer bonds.

All honor to the merry pastimes, the genial society, the friendly harmony which winter inaugurates. Let parents and children devote themselves more assiduously to each other, let brothers and sisters strengthen fraternal love by kindly offices and close companionship, let acquaintances blossom into friends, and friendly intercourse ripen affection, and, above all, let the sympathy thus developed serve to inspire each with higher purposes and nobler aims, and one part of winter's mission, will have been accomplished.

Summer's Slipping (poetry)

1922

Poems You Will Enjoy
By Berton Braley

SUMMER'S SLIPPING
The summer's almost gone again,
And fall is coming on again,
When we must really get upon the job;
When we must quit our pleasuring,
And start once more to treasuring
The work that keeps the busy
world athrob.

The small boy thinks unpleasantly
Of school days coming presently;
He'd like to have vacation all the year.
Fall styles are in the stores again,
We'll soon read football scores again,
And apples on the menu will appear.

Straw hats will soon be laid away,
And Palm Beach suits will fade away,
And oysters will again be fit to eat.
Dramatic stars will flash again,
And college boys grow brash again,
And we won't be complaining of the heat.

Thus, after summer's lazy days,
We'll have the golden, hazy-days
When we'll have lots of pep on which to call,
As back to work we turn again,
To earn the coal to burn again,
When winter comes along right after fall!

Rats Steal Entire Litter of Pigs

Pennsylvania, 1915

STOLE SIX PIGS

Rats Get Away with Entire Litter of Pigs.

Rats carried off a litter of six 2- weeks-old pigs from G. N. Walker, a farmer residing about two miles from York Springs. Mr. Walker placed the sow and pigs in an empty stall in the barn to keep them warm and during the night the hungry rats carried off the pigs.


SERIOUSLY HURT

Girl Strikes Back of Head on Icy Pavement.

Ellen Starner, the fourteen year old daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Louis Starner, of Menallen township, slipped on an icy pavement in Bendersville on Monday evening, striking the back of her head with great force. She was unconscious for several hours and is now reported to be suffering from a slight concussion of the brain. She will in all probability recover.

—Adams County News, Gettysburg, Pennsylvania, January 2, 1915, page 6.

Lover Fell From Tree, Washing Machine Company President

Cincinnati, 1903

LOVER FELL FROM TREE

Andrew Smith Driven to Sore Straits by Teasing.

CINCINNATI, March 2 — The ambulance of F. & W. Siefke was sent to Groesbeck, Ohio, at an early hour this morning for the purpose of removing an injured man to the City Hospital. The request for the ambulance came from the postmaster of that village.

According to meager information received by Mr. Siefke the injured man is Andrew J. Smith, who is the President of the "Latest Invention Triple Action Washing Machine Company," at 812 Elm street. Mr. Smith was violently in love with a young woman, and that as a result of his courtship he was subjected to the jibes of his associates. This affected Mr. Smith greatly. Last evening, in his wanderings, he climbed a tree, lost his balance and fell, sustaining internal injuries. Now the jokers are sorry.

—The Daily Republican-News, Hamilton, Ohio, March 2, 1903, page 1.

Comment: It'd be terrible to wake up and see this about yourself in the paper. Plus, the report could be a bit mangled up, since there doesn't seem to be any obvious connection between the jibes and his climbing the tree and falling out. That the jokers are sorry is probably an unwarranted conclusion of the reporter, since it all happened at an early hour just this morning.

Note: I made a change. The name of the company in the original article had the word "Sriple" that probably should be "Triple," going with Action a lot more. And isn't that a great old-fashioned name from those days of inventions and progress, "Latest Invention Triple Action Washing Machine Company." Thinking about it, it doesn't sound right yet, but, we must let it go...

A Wild Leap in the Dark Over A Precipice

1916

Climax to the Reckless Ride of a Fearless Horseman

HIS WILD LEAP IN THE DARK

It Carried Horse and Rider Pact the Edge of a Sheer Cliff to a Tall of Two Hundred and Fifty Feet to the Rocks and Water Below, Yet the Man Lived

Perhaps the most extraordinary fall that a human being ever survived is that described by Thormanby in his "Sporting Stories." The lucky man was Colonel William Yorke Moore, a British officer, who rode his horse in the dark over a sheer precipice 247 feet in height and came out alive! It seems incredible that such a fearful experience should result in anything but instant death, yet here are the facts, which once again confirm the adage that truth is more wonderful than fiction:

Colonel Moore, who commanded the troops at Dominica, lost his way one evening after sunset. In complete darkness he endeavored to make his way home. Two or three times he had difficulty in making his horse cross obstacles, and at last they came to something that the horse would not face.

Colonel Moore was a fearless rider. Again and again he rode his horse at full speed against the unknown obstacle, but in vain. At last, urged fiercely by whip and spur, the terrified animal, with a snort of terror, cleared the low hedge — for such the obstruction proved to be — and went over the cliff.

Colonel Moore says that during his flight on horseback through the air every event of his whole life seemed to pass in a luminous panorama before him. Suddenly there came a terrific concussion, which deprived him of his senses and left him with his legs in the sea and his body on the rocks, apparently dead.

He must have lain there stunned for some hours, for when at last the lapping water and the cool breezes restored him the moon was shining brightly in midheaven, and its beams fell upon the upturned, glittering shoes of his gallant horse, which lay dead and mangled beside him.

As soon as he had collected his scattered wits Colonel Moore coolly began to examine himself to ascertain what injuries he had sustained. He found that he was severely cut about the body and head, that his right ankle was dislocated and that his back was benumbed or paralyzed by the concussion of his fall.

When the sun rose it shone upon his bare, bleeding head with such intolerable heat that, as a protection from its rays, he tied his cotton handkerchief about his forehead. Above his head projected the two ends of the knotted bandage stained crimson with his blood.

After lying in horrible pain for several hours he spied a boatful of natives rowing toward the spot where he lay. As they came near he hailed them in a faint voice, but the moment they saw the ghastly figure of the colonel, with his bloody headdress, they set up a yell and rowed away as if 20,000 fiends were after them.

After some time a single black man came clambering over the rocks, intent on catching fish. He was within a few yards of the colonel when the latter hailed him. The moment he caught sight of the bleeding head and the blood stained bandage he, too, uttered a fearful yell, flung down his rod and line and scrambled off over the rocks as fast as his feet and hands would carry him.

The colonel now began to resign himself to the prospect of a lingering death, but fortunately his English servant, alarmed at his master's absence, went in search of him and, following the horse's tracks, at last came to the edge of the precipice.

The sudden disappearance of the hoof prints near the low hedge fence convinced him that an accident had happened. He ran to the barracks and got out a boat, which a party of soldiers rowed to the foot of the cliff.

Very tenderly and carefully the soldiers lifted the colonel into the boat and brought him back to the barracks. For some months he lay in great pain and danger, but in time the paralyzed muscles of his back recovered, and eventually he was restored to complete health. Not even the slightest touch of lameness remained to remind him of his fall.

—Stevens Point Daily Journal, Stevens Point, Wisconsin, July 29, 1916, page 6.