Democratic Sentinel, Volume 2, Number 33, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 27 September 1878 — A MODEL FARM. [ARTICLE]

A MODEL FARM.

What Was Accomplished by a Connecticut Man. [From Harper's Magazine for October.] , Why should farming not be scientific ? Because the manufacturer labors in a scientific way, his profits are greater and surer than those of the agriculturist who has neither machinery nor system; but it is the unreasonable, custom of many to sneer at all innovations, and to look at all methodic variations upon old usages as the fanciful and unprofitable schemes of visionaries with more money than common sense. It is the people who sneer that are usually most deficient in the latter quality, however; and had they a little more of it they might perceive that careful book-keeping and the adoption of improved methods and implements are as necessary in farming as in any other business. In a side hollow of that hill from which Litchfield first became visible to us several distinct echoes, can be obtained, and this responsiveness of the ' “ purple glens ” gave a name to this farm. It is Echo farm—a pretty and poetically suggestive name, indeed, which conjures up visions of loveliness, and sets one to dreaming .of intertwining vines knitting their pliant tendrils and sweet-scented leaves through the hospitable porch and open lattice; the checkered orchard of fruity abundance; the garrulous brook that never tires of its own monody; the reverberant hills that appease life’s turmoil with their easy undulations; lofty barns mossy with age; and clattering mills down in the seclusion of grassy hollows. But, alas! dear reader, model farming is not idyllic or Arcadian; it is inflexibly utilitarian ; it keeps all its buildings in a perfect state of repair; it subordinates the picturesque, if it ever recognizes it; it pulls down the old mill because that venerable is in the way of the rectangular new dairy; it diverts the brook from its ferny course into the most commonplace of earthen pipes; it tears away the vines that obscure the light, and it looks upon everything with a pair of the most practical eyes set in a head that weighs, measures, audits, and analyzes with chemical exactness. The proprietor of Echo farm conducts it as a manufactory. A record is kept of the milk and butter produced by each cow for each day, each month, each year; all the feed is weighed, and the quantity entered upon books, both that purchased and that produced; and a separate account is kept of the yield of each field. Nothing is wasted, nothing done by guessing, and nothing passes unrecorded. The implements are of the latest or most approved model. Three sets of “horse ” hay-forks are in use, by which hay is unloaded at the rate of a ton in four forkfuls and in four minutes, including in some instances the carriage of the hay 150 feet. The other machines also embody some novel labor-saving principles. No manure or fertilizers are found necessary, except the 1,500 loads made upon the farm, and a sort of muck, of whjch there are several beds. The history of the farm is interesting. A gentleman of education, intelligence, and wealth came to Litchfield some nine years ago in search of a summer home. He had the most superficial knowledge of farming, and entertained no intention of entering that business. But, having purchased sixty-six acres and cleared them, he purchased additional tracts, which became the nucleus of Echo farm, whose area is now about 400 acres. His interest was enlisted in the raising of choice stock, and, beginning with a herd of five, he has gradually increased the number to 100, all the herd being pure Jerseys, with authentic and valuable pedigrees. The rocky fields were cleared, laid out, and inclosed by massive stone walls. Old and inadequate buildings on the consolidated land were demolished, and new ones of improved pattern erected. In 1873 a barn of 66 feet by 25 was built; an addition, 100 feet by 40, was made the following year; and in 1875 another addition was made, of 191 by 35 feet. These three buildings form the three sides of the barn-yard. They are built of pine upon massive granite foundations about two feet wide, which are laid in cement. All the wood-work is painted a soft drab color, even the proprietor’s residence, and the telegraph poles that line the roadway. A desire for simplicity and durability in preference to ornamentation or showiness is visible everywhere; there is no litter, and there are no gaps in the fences or walls, which are from eighteen inches to twenty-four in thickness, every crevice being filled like a mosaic with a stone that exactly fits it. Care, thrift, and ingenuity have acted like three charms. When the fields were being cleared, such large quantities of stones were gathered that some perplexity arose as to where they should be put. Many hundreds of loads were used in the foundations of the buildings, in the fences, and in filling ravines, but more remained, and these were deposited upon several sterile hillocks of no value, where masses of swamp grass were laid over them, and covered with a light dressing of soil. Grass seed was sown upon the soil, and it took well, soon transforming the barren heaps to verdant knolls, whose blades are remarkably hardy. It was not so much for the sake of the land gained that the stones were thus disposed of, but it was rather to prevent the formation of nurseries of weeds, shrubs and brambles, which the heaps would have quickly become. Two and a half acres are planted with beets, which are the only roots fed to the cattle, the crop averaging 1,000 bushels to the acre, and more than 2,000 tons of hay are housed a year.