The following table gives the actual weight of the manure at the different periods, also the actual amount of the water, organic matter, ash, nitrogen, etc.:
TABLE SHOWING THE WEIGHT AND COMPOSITION OF ENTIRE MASS OF EXPERIMENTAL MANURE (NO. III.), FRESH FARM-YARD MANURE, SPREAD IN OPEN YARD AT DIFFERENT PERIODS OF THE YEAR. IN NATURAL STATE.
Amount of water in the manure
* Consisting of soluble organic matter
* Containing nitrogen
† Containing nitrogen
Total amount of nitrogen in manure
The manure contains ammonia in free state
The manure contains ammonia in form of salts, easily decomposed by quicklime
Total amount of organic matter
Total amount of mineral matter
“One moment,” said the Deacon. “These tables are a little confusing. The table you have just given shows the actual weight of the manure in the heap, and what it contained at different periods.” —“Yes,” said I, “and the table following shows what 100 lbs. of this manure, spread out in the yard, contained at the different dates mentioned. It shows how greatly manure deteriorates by being exposed to rain, spread out on the surface of the yard. The table merits careful study.”
TABLE SHOWING COMPOSITION OF EXPERIMENTAL HEAP (NO. III.). FRESH FARM YARD MANURE, SPREAD IN OPEN YARD, AT DIFFERENT PERIODS OF THE YEAR. IN NATURAL STATE.
* Soluble organic matter
Soluble inorganic matter
† Insoluble organic matter
Insoluble mineral matter
* Containing nitrogen
† Containing nitrogen
Total amount of nitrogen
Ammonia in free state
Ammonia in form of salts, easily decomposed by quicklime
Total amount of organic matter
Total amount of mineral substance
The following table shows the composition of the manure, calculated dry:
TABLE SHOWING COMPOSITION OF EXPERIMENTAL HEAP (NO. III.), FRESH FARM YARD MANURE, SPREAD IN OPEN YARD, AT DIFFERENT PERIODS OF THE YEAR. CALCULATED DRY.
* Soluble organic matter
Soluble inorganic matter
† Insoluble organic matter
Insoluble mineral matter
* Containing nitrogen
† Containing nitrogen
Total amount of nitrogen
Ammonia in free state
Ammonia in form of salts, easily decomposed by quicklime
Total amount of organic matter
Total amount of mineral substance
I have made out the following table, showing what would be the changes in a heap of 5 tons (10,000 lbs.) of manure, spread out in the yard, so that we can readily see the effect of this method ofmanagement as compared with the other two methods of keeping the manure in compact heaps, one exposed, the other under cover.
The following is the table:
CONTENTS OF THE MASS OF MANURE, SPREAD OUT IN FARM-YARD, AND EXPOSED TO RAIN, ETC.
Total weight of manure
Total inorganic matter
Total nitrogen in manure
Total soluble organic matter
Insoluble organic matter
Soluble mineral matter
Insoluble mineral matter
Nitrogen in soluble matter
Nitrogen in insoluble matter
It is not necessary to make many remarks on this table. The facts speak for themselves. It will be seen that there is considerable loss even by letting the manure lie spread out until spring; but, serious as this loss is, it is small compared to the loss sustained by allowing the manure to lie exposed in the yard during the summer.
In the five tons of fresh manure, we have, November 3, 64.3 lbs. of nitrogen; April 30, we have 46 lbs.; August 23, only 25 lbs. This is a great loss of the most valuable constituent of the manure. Of soluble mineral matter, the next most valuable ingredient, we have in the five tons of fresh manure, November 3, 154 lbs.; April 30, 87 lbs.; and August 23, only 39 lbs. Of soluble nitrogen, the most active and valuable part of the manure, we have, November 3, nearly 15 lbs.; April 30, not quite 7 lbs.; August 23, 3½ lbs.; and November 15, not quite 1¾ lbs.
Dr. Vœlcker made still another experiment. He took 1,613 lbs. ofwell-rotteddung (mixed manure from horses, cows, and pigs,) and kept it in a heap, exposed to the weather, from December 5 to April 30, August 23, and November 15, weighing it and analyzing it at these different dates. I think it is not necessary to give the results in detail. From the 5th of December to the 30th of April, there wasno lossof nitrogen in the heap, and comparatively little loss of soluble mineral matters; but from April 30 to August 23, there was considerable loss in both these valuable ingredients, which were washed out of the heap by rain.
Dr.Vœlckerdraws the following conclusions from his experiments:
“Having described at length my experiments with farm-yard manure,” he says, “it may not be amiss to state briefly the more prominent and practically interesting points which have been developed in the course of this investigation. I would, therefore, observe:
“1. Perfectly fresh farm yard manure contains but a small proportion of free ammonia.
“2. The nitrogen in fresh dung exists principally in the state of insoluble nitrogenized matters.
“3. The soluble organic and mineral constituents of dung are much more valuable fertilizers than the insoluble. Particular care, therefore, should be bestowed upon the preservation of the liquid excrements of animals, and for the same reason the manure should be kept in perfectly water-proof pits of sufficient capacity to render the setting up of dung-heaps in the corner of fields, as much as it is possible, unnecessary.
“4. Farm-yard manure, even in quite a fresh state, contains phosphate of lime, which is much more soluble than has hitherto been suspected.
“5. The urine of the horse, cow, and pig, does not contain any appreciable quantity of phosphate of lime, whilst the drainings of dung-heaps contain considerable quantities of this valuable fertilizer. The drainings of dung-heaps, partly for this reason, are more valuable than the urine of our domestic animals, and, therefore, ought to be prevented by all available means from running to waste.
“6. The most effectual means of preventing loss in fertilizing matters is to cart the manure directly on the field whenever circumstances allow this to be done.
“7. On all soils with a moderate proportion of clay, no fear need to be entertained of valuable fertilizing substances becoming wasted if the manure cannot be plowed in at once. Fresh, and even well-rotten, dung contains very little free ammonia; and since active fermentation, and with it the further evolution of free ammonia, is stopped by spreading out the manure on the field, valuable volatile manuring matters can not escape into the air by adopting this plan.
“As all soils with a moderate proportion of clay possess in a remarkable degree the power of absorbing and retaining manuring matters, none of the saline and soluble organic constituents are wasted even by a heavy fall of rain. It may, indeed, be questionedwhether it is more advisable to plow in the manure at once, or to let it lie for some time on the surface, and to give the rain full opportunity to wash it into the soil.
“It appears to me a matter of the greatest importance to regulate the application of manure to our fields, so that its constituents may become properly diluted and uniformly distributed amongst a large mass of soil. By plowing in the manure at once, it appears to me, this desirable end can not be reached so perfectly as by allowing the rain to wash in gradually the manure evenly spread on the surface of the field.
“By adopting such a course, in case practical experience should confirm my theoretical reasoning, the objection could no longer be maintained that the land is not ready for carting manure upon it. I am inclined to recommend, as a general rule: Cart the manure on the field, spread it at once, and wait for a favorable opportunity to plow it in. In the case of clay soils, I have no hesitation to say the manure may be spread even six months before it is plowed in, without losing any appreciable quantity in manuring matter.
“I am perfectly aware, that on stiff clay land, farm-yard manure, more especially long dung, when plowed in before the frost sets in, exercises a most beneficial action by keeping the soil loose, and admitting the free access of frost, which pulverizes the land, and would, therefore, by no means recommend to leave the manure spread on the surface without plowing it in. All I wish to enforce is, that when no other choice is left but either to set up the manure in a heap in a corner of the field, or to spread it on the field, without plowing it in directly, to adopt the latter plan. In the case of very light sandy soils, it may perhaps not be advisable to spread out the manure a long time before it is plowed in, since such soils do not possess the power of retaining manuring matters in any marked degree. On light sandy soils, I would suggest to manure with well-fermented dung, shortly before the crop intended to be grown is sown.
“8. Well-rotten dung contains, likewise, little free ammonia, but a very much larger proportion of soluble organic and saline mineral matters than fresh manure.
“9. Rotten dung is richer in nitrogen than fresh.
“10. Weight for weight, rotten dung is more valuable than fresh.
“11. In the fermentation of dung, a very considerable proportion of the organic matters in fresh manure is dissipated into the air in the form of carbonic acid and other gases.
“12. Properly regulated, however, the fermentation of dung is not attended with any great loss of nitrogen, nor of saline mineral matters.
“13. During the fermentation of dung, ulmic, humic, and other organic acids are formed, as well as gypsum, which fix the ammonia generated in the decomposition of the nitrogenized constituents of dung.
“14. During the fermentation of dung, the phosphate of lime which it contains is rendered more soluble than in fresh manure.
“15. In the interior and heated portions of manure-heaps, ammonia is given off; but, on passing into the external and cold layers of dung-heaps, the free ammonia is retained in the heap.
“16. Ammonia is not given off from the surface of well-compressed dung-heaps, but on turning manure-heaps, it is wasted in appreciable quantities. Dung-heaps, for this reason, should not be turned more frequently than absolutely necessary.
“17. No advantage appears to result from carrying on the fermentation of dung too far, but every disadvantage.
“18. Farm-yard manure becomes deteriorated in value, when kept in heaps exposed to the weather, the more the longer it is kept.
“19. The loss in manuring matters, which is incurred in keeping manure-heaps exposed to the weather, is not so much due to the volatilization of ammonia as to the removal of ammoniacal salts, soluble nitrogenized organic matters, and valuable mineral matters, by the rain which falls in the period during which the manure is kept.
“20. If rain is excluded from dung-heaps, or little rain falls at a time, the loss in ammonia is trifling, and no saline matters, of course, are removed; but, if much rain falls, especially if it descends in heavy showers upon the dung-heap, a serious loss in ammonia, soluble organic matter, phosphate of lime, and salts of potash is incurred, and the manure becomes rapidly deteriorated in value, whilst at the same time it is diminished in weight.
“21. Well-rotten dung is more readily affected by the deteriorating influence of rain than fresh manure.
“22. Practically speaking, all the essentially valuable manuring constituents are preserved by keeping farm-yard manure under cover.
“23. If the animals have been supplied with plenty of litter, fresh dung contains an insufficient quantity of water to induce an active fermentation. In this case, fresh dung can not be properlyfermented under cover, except water or liquid manure is pumped over the heap from time to time.
“Where much straw is used in the manufacture of dung, and no provision is made to supply the manure in the pit at any time with the requisite amount of moisture, it may not be advisable to put up a roof over the dung-pit. On the other hand, on farms where there is a deficiency of straw, so that the moisture of the excrements of our domestic animals is barely absorbed by the litter, the advantage of erecting a roof over the dung-pit will be found very great.
“24. The worst method of making manure is to produce it by animals kept in open yards, since a large proportion of valuable fertilizing matters is wasted in a short time; and after a lapse of twelve months, at least two-thirds of the substance of the manure is wasted, and only one-third, inferior in quality to an equal weight of fresh dung, is left behind.
“25. The most rational plan of keeping manure in heaps appears to me that adopted by Mr. Lawrence, of Cirencester, and described by him at length in Morton’s ‘Cyclopædia of Agriculture,’ under the head of ‘Manure.’”
“I would like to know,” said the Deacon, “how Mr. Lawrence manages his manure, especially as his method has received such high commendation.”
Charley got the second volume of “Morton’s Cyclopædia of Agriculture,” from the book shelves, and turned to the article on “Manure.” He found that Mr. Lawrence adopted the “Box System” of feeding cattle, and used cut or chaffed straw for bedding. And Mr. Lawrence claims that by this plan “manure will have been made under the most perfect conditions.” And “when the boxes are full at those periods of the year at which manure is required for the succeeding crops, it will be most advantageously disposed of by being transferred at once to the land, and covered in.”
“Good,”said the Deacon, “I think he is right there.” Charley continued, and read as follows:
“But there will be accumulations of manure requiring removalfrom the homestead at other seasons, at which it cannot be so applied, and when it must be stored for future use. The following has been found an effectual and economical mode of accomplishing this; more particularly when cut litter is used, it saves the cost of repeated turnings, and effectually prevents the decomposition and waste of the most active and volatile principle.
“Some three or more spots are selected according to the size of the farm, in convenient positions for access to the land under tillage, and by the side of the farm roads. The sites fixed on are then excavated about two feet under the surrounding surface. In the bottom is laid some three or four inches of earth to absorb any moisture, on which the manure is emptied from the carts. This is evenly spread, and well trodden as the heap is forming. As soon as this is about a foot above the ground level, to allow for sinking, the heap is gradually gathered in, until it is completed in the form of an ordinary steep roof, slightly rounded at the top by the final treading. In the course of building this up, about a bushel of salt, to two cart-loads of dung is sprinkled amongst it. The base laid out at any one time should not exceed that required by the manure ready for the complete formation of the heap as far as it goes; and within a day or two after such portion is built up, and it has settled into shape, a thin coat of earth in a moist state is plasteredentirelyover the surface. Under these conditions decomposition does not take place, in consequence of the exclusion of the air; or at any rate to so limited an extent, that the ammonia is absorbed by the earth, for there is not a trace of it perceptible about the heap; though, when put together without such covering, this is perceptible enough to leeward at a hundred yards’ distance.
“When heaps thus formed are resorted to in the autumn, either for the young seeds, or for plowing in on the stubbles after preparing for the succeeding root crop, the manure will be found undiminished in quantity and unimpaired in quality; in fact, simply consolidated. Decomposition then proceeds within the soil, where all its results are appropriated, and rendered available for the succeeding cereal as well as the root crop.
“It would be inconvenient to plaster the heap, were the ridge, when settled, above six or seven feet from the ground level; the base may be formed about ten to twelve feet wide, and the ridge about nine feet from the base, which settles down to about seven feet; this may be extended to any length as further supplies of manure require removal. One man is sufficient to form the heap, and it is expedient to employ the same man for this service, who soon gets into the way of performing the work neatly and quickly.It has been asked where a farmer is to get the earth to cover his heaps—it may be answered, keep your roads scraped when they get muddy on the surface during rainy weather—in itself good economy—and leave this in small heaps beyond the margin of your roads. This, in the course of the year, will be found an ample provision for the purpose, for it is unnecessary to lay on a coat more than one or two inches in thickness, which should be done when in a moist state. At any rate, there will always be found an accumulation on headlands that may be drawn upon if need be.
“Farmers who have not been in the habit of bestowing care on the manufacture and subsequent preservation of their manure, and watching results, have no conception of the importance of this. A barrowful of such manure as has been described, would produce a greater weight of roots and corn, than that so graphically described by the most talented and accomplished of our agricultural authors—as the contents of ‘neighbour Drychaff’s dung-cart, that creaking hearse, that is carrying to the field the dead body whose spirit has departed.’
“There is a source of valuable and extremely useful manure on every farm, of which very few farmers avail themselves—the gathering together in one spot of all combustible waste and rubbish, the clippings of hedges, scouring of ditches, grassy accumulation on the sides of roads and fences, etc., combined with a good deal of earth. If these are carted at leisure times into a large circle, or in two rows, to supply the fire kindled in the center, in a spot which is frequented by the laborers on the farm, with a three-pronged fork and a shovel attendant, and each passer-by is encouraged to add to the pile whenever he sees the smoke passing away so freely as to indicate rapid combustion, a very large quantity of valuable ashes are collected between March and October. In the latter month the fire should be allowed to go out; the ashes are then thrown into a long ridge, as high as they will stand, and thatched while dry. This will be found an invaluable store in April, May, and June, capable of supplying from twenty to forty bushels of ashes per acre, according to the care and industry of the collector, to drill with the seeds of the root crop.”
The Deacon got sleepy before Charley finished reading. “We can not afford to be at so much trouble in this country,” he said, and took up his hat and left.
The Deacon is not altogether wrong. Our climate is very different from that of England, and it is seldom that farmers need to draw out manure, and pile it in the field, except in winter, andthen it is not necessary, I think, either to dig a pit or to cover the heap. Those who draw manure from the city in summer, may probably adopt some of Mr. Lawrence’s suggestions with advantage.
The plan of collecting rubbish, brush, old wood, and sods, and converting them into ashes or charcoal, is one which we could often adopt with decided advantage. Our premises would be cleaner, and we should have less fungus to speck and crack our apples and pears, and, in addition, we should have a quantity of ashes or burnt earth, that is not only a manure itself, but is specially useful to mix with moist superphosphate and other artificial manures, to make them dry enough and bulky enough to be easily and evenly distributed by the drill. Artificial manures, so mixed with these ashes, or dry, charred earth, are less likely to injure the seed than when sown with the seed in the drill-rows, unmixed with some such material. Sifted coal ashes are also very useful for this purpose.
There is one thing in these experiments of Dr. Vœlcker’s which deserves special attention, and that is the comparatively large amount ofsoluble phosphate of limein the ash of farm-yard manure. I do not think the fact is generally known. In estimating the value of animal manures, as compared with artificial manures, it is usually assumed that the phosphates in the former are insoluble, and, therefore, of less value than the soluble phosphates in superphosphate of lime and other artificial manures.
Dr. Vœlcker found in the ash offreshfarm-yard manure, phosphoric acid equal to 12.23 per cent of phosphate of lime, and of this 5.35 wassolublephosphate of lime.
In the ash of well-rotted manure, he found phosphoric acid equal to 12.11 per cent of phosphate of lime, and of this, 4.75 was soluble phosphate of lime.
“That is, indeed, an important fact,” said the Doctor, “but I thought Professor Vœlcker claimed that ‘during the fermentation of dung, the phosphate of lime which it contains is rendered more soluble than in fresh manure.’”
“He did say so,” I replied, “and it may be true, but the above figures do not seem to prove it. When he wrote the sentence you have quoted, he probably had reference to the fact that he found more soluble phosphate of lime in rotted manure than in fresh manure. Thus, he found in 5 tons of fresh and 5 tons of rotted, manure, the following ingredients:
SPSoluble Phosphate of Lime.
IPInsoluble phosphates.
TPTotal Phosphates.
TSATotal Soluble Ash.
TIATotal Insoluble Ash.
TATotal Ash.
“It will be seen from the above figures thatrotted manure contains more soluble phosphate of lime than fresh manure.
“But it does not follow from this fact that any of the insoluble phosphates in fresh manure have been rendered soluble during the fermentation of the manure.
“There are more insoluble phosphates in the rotted manure than in the fresh, but we do not conclude from this fact that any of the phosphates have been rendered insoluble during the process of fermentation—neither are we warranted in concluding that any of them have been rendered soluble, simply because we find more soluble phosphates in the rotted manure.”
“Very true,” said the Doctor, “but it has been shown thatin the heapof manure, during fermentation, there was anactual increaseof soluble mineral matter during the first six months, and, to say the least, it is highly probable that some of this increase of soluble mineral matter contained more or less soluble phosphates, and perhaps Dr. Vœlcker had some facts to show that such was the case, although he may not have published them. At any rate, he evidently thinks that the phosphates in manure are rendered more soluble by fermentation.”
“Perhaps,” said I, “we can not do better than to let the matter rest in that form. I am merely anxious not to draw definite conclusions from the facts which the facts do not positively prove. I am strongly in favor of fermenting manure, and should be glad to have it shown that fermentation does actually convert insoluble phosphates into a soluble form.”
There is one thing, however, that these experiments clearly prove, and that is, that there is a far larger quantity ofsolublephosphates in manure than is generally supposed. Of the total phosphoric acid in the fresh manure, 43 per cent is in a soluble condition; and in the rotted manure, 40 per cent is soluble.
This is an important fact, and one which is generally overlooked. It enhances the value of farm-yard or stable manure, as compared with artificial manures. But of this we may have more to say when we come to that part of the subject. I want to make one remark. I think there can be little doubt that the proportion of soluble phosphates is greater in rich manure, made from grain-fed animals, than in poor manure made principally from straw. In other words, of 100 lbs. of total phosphoric acid, more of it would be in a soluble condition in the rich than in the poor manure.
“I think,” said the Deacon, “you are talking too much about the science of manure making. Science is all well enough, but practice is better.”
“That depends,” said I, “on the practice. Suppose you tell us how you manage your manure.”
“Well,” said the Deacon, “I do not know much about plant-food, and nitrogen, and phosphoric acid, but I think manure is a good thing, and the more you have of it the better. I do not believe in your practice of spreading manure on the land and letting it lie exposed to the sun and winds. I want to draw it out in the spring and plow it under for corn. I think this long, coarse manure loosens the soil and makes it light, and warm, and porous. And then my plan saves labor. More than half of my manure is handled but once. It is made in the yard and sheds, and lies there until it is drawn to the field in the spring. The manure from the cow and horse stables, and from the pig-pens, is thrown into the yard, and nothing is done to it except to level it down occasionally. In proportion to the stock kept, I think I make twice as much manure as you do.”
“Yes,” said I, “twice as muchin bulk, but one load of my manure is worth four loads of your long, coarse manure, composedprincipally of corn-stalks, straw, and water. I think you are wise in not spending much time in piling and working over such manure.”
The Deacon and I have a standing quarrel about manure. We differ on all points. He is a good man, but not what we call a good farmer. He cleared up his farm from the original forest, and he has always been content to receive what his land would give him. If he gets good crops, well, if not, his expenses are moderate, and he manages to make both ends meet. I tell him he could double his crops, and quadruple his profits, by better farming—but though he cannot disprove the facts, he is unwilling to make any change in his system of farming. And so he continues to make just as much manure as the crops he is obliged to feed out leave in his yards, and no more. He does not, in fact,makeany manure. He takes what comes, and gets it on to his land with as little labor as possible.
It is no use arguing with such a man. And it certainly will not do to contend that his method ofmanagingmanure is all wrong. His error is in making such poor manure. But with such poor stuff as he has in his yard, I believe he is right to get rid of it with the least expense possible.
I presume, too, that the Deacon is not altogether wrong in regard to the good mechanical effects of manure on undrained and indifferently cultivated land. I have no doubt that he bases his opinion on experience. The good effects of such manure as he makes must be largely due to its mechanical action—it can do little towards supplying the more important and valuable elements of plant-food.
I commend the Deacon’s system of managing manure to all such as make a similar article. But I think there is a more excellent way. Feed the stock better, make richer manure, and then it will pay to bestow a little labor in taking care of it.
One of the oldest and most successful farmers, in the State of New York, is John Johnston, of Geneva. He has a farm on the borders of Seneca Lake. It is high, rolling land, but neededunderdraining. This has been thoroughly done—and done with great profit and advantage. The soil is a heavy clay loam. Mr. Johnston has been in the habit of summer-fallowing largely for wheat, generally plowing three, and sometimes four times. He has been a very successful wheat-grower, almost invariably obtaining large crops of wheat, both of grain and straw. The straw he feeds to sheep in winter, putting more straw in the racks than the sheep can eat up clean, and using what they leave for bedding. The sheep run in yards enclosed with tight board fences, and have sheds under the barn to lie in at pleasure.
Although the soil is rather heavy for Indian corn, Mr. Johnston succeeds in growing large crops of this great American cereal. Corn and stalks are both fed out on the farm. Mr. J. has not yet practised cutting up his straw and stalks into chaff.
The land is admirably adapted to the growth of red clover, and great crops of clover and timothy-hay are raised, and fed out on the farm. Gypsum, or plaster, is sown quite freely on the clover in the spring. Comparatively few roots are raised—not to exceed an acre—and these only quite recently. The main crops are winter wheat, spring barley, Indian corn, clover, and timothy-hay, and clover-seed.
The materials for making manure, then, are wheat and barley straw, Indian corn, corn-stalks, clover, and timothy-hay. These are all raised on the farm. But Mr. Johnston has for many years purchased linseed-oil cake, to feed to his sheep and cattle.
This last fact must not be overlooked. Mr. J. commenced to feed oil-cake when its value was little known here, and when he bought it for, I think, seven or eight dollars a ton. He continued to use it even when he had to pay fifty dollars per ton. Mr. J. has great faith in manure—and it is a faith resting on good evidence and long experience. If he had not fed out so much oil-cake and clover-hay, he would not have found his manure so valuable.
“How much oil-cake does he use?” asked the Deacon.
“He gives his sheep, on the average, about 1 lb. each per day.”
If he feeds out a ton of clover-hay, two tons of straw, (for feed and bedding,) and one ton of oil-cake, the manure obtained from this quantity of food and litter, would be worth, according to Mr. Lawes’ table, given on page 45, $34.72.
On the other hand, if he fed out one ton of corn, one ton of clover-hay, and two tons of straw, for feed and bedding, the manure would be worth $21.65.
If he fed one ton of corn, and three tons of straw, the manure would be worth only $14.69.
He would getas much manurefrom the three tons of straw and one ton of corn, as from the two tons of straw, one ton of clover-hay, and one ton of oil-cake, while, as before said, the manure in the one case would be worth $14.69, and in the other $34.72.
In other words, a load of the good manure would be worth, when spread out on the land in the field or garden, more than two loads of the straw and corn manure.
To get the same amount of nitrogen, phosphoric acid, and potash, you have to spend more than twice the labor in cleaning out the stables or yards, more than twice the labor of throwing or wheeling it to the manure pile, more than twice the labor of turning the manure in the pile, more than twice the labor of loading it on the carts or wagons, more than twice the labor of drawing it to the field, more than twice the labor of unloading it into heaps, and more than twice the labor of spreading it in the one case than in the other, and, after all, twenty tons of this poor manure would not produce as good an effect the first season as ten tons of the richer manure.
“Why so?”asked the Deacon.
“Simply because the poor manure is not so active as the richer manure. It will not decompose so readily. Its nitrogen, phosphoric acid, and potash, are not so available. The twenty tons,may, in the long run, do as much good as the ten tons, but I very much doubt it. At any rate, I would greatly prefer the ten tons of the good manure to twenty tons of the poor—even when spread out on the land, ready to plow under. What the difference would be in the value of the manurein the yard, you can figure for yourself. It would depend on the cost of handling, drawing, and spreading the extra ten tons.”
The Deacon estimates the cost of loading, drawing, unloading, and spreading, at fifty cents a ton. This is probably not far out of the way, though much depends on the distance the manure has to be drawn, and also on the condition of the manure, etc.
The four tons of feed and bedding will make, at a rough estimate about ten tons of manure.
This ten tons of straw and corn manure, according to Mr. Lawes’ estimate, is worth,in the field, $14.69. And if it costs fifty cents a load to get it on the land, its value,in the yard, would be $9.69—or nearly ninety-seven cents a ton.
The ten tons of good manure, according to the same estimate, is worth,in the field, $34.72, and, consequently, would be worth,in the yard, $29.72. In other words, a ton of poor manure is worth, in the yard, ninety-seven cents a ton, and the good manure $2.97.
And so in describing John Johnston’s method of managing manure, this fact must be borne in mind. It might not pay the Deacon to spend much labor on manure worth only ninety-seven cents a ton, while it might pay John Johnston to bestow some considerable time and labor on manure worth $2.97 per ton.
“But is it really worth this sum?” asked the Deacon.
“In reply to that,” said I, “all I claim is that the figures are comparative. If your manure, made as above described, is worth ninety-seven cents a ton in the yard,thenJohn Johnston’s manure, made as stated, iscertainlyworth, at least, $2.97 per ton in the yard.”
Of this there can be no doubt.
“If you think,” I continued, “your manure, so made, is worth only half as much as Mr. Lawes’ estimate; in other words, if your ten tons of manure, instead of being worth $14.69 in the field, is worth only $7.35; then John Johnston’s ten tons of manure, instead of being worth $34.72 in the field, is worth only $17.36.”
“That looks a little more reasonable,” said the Deacon, “John Johnston’s manure, instead of being worth $2.97 per ton in the yard, is worth only $1.48 per ton, and mine, instead of being worth ninety-seven cents a ton, is worth forty-eight and a half cents a ton.”
The Deacon sat for a few minutes looking at these figures. “They do not seem so extravagantly high as I thought them at first,” he said, “and if you will reduce the figures in Mr. Lawes’ table one-half all through, it will be much nearer the truth. I think my manure is worth forty-eight and a half cents a ton in the yard, and if your figures are correct, I suppose I must admit that John Johnston’s manure is worth $1.48 per ton in the yard.”
I was very glad to get such an admission from the Deacon. He did not see that he had made a mistake in the figures, and so I got him to go over the calculation again.
“You take a pencil, Deacon,” said I, “and write down the figures:
Manure from a ton of clover-hay
“This would make about ten tons of manure. We have agreed to reduce the estimate one-half, and consequently we have $17.36 as the value of the ten tons of manure.
“This is John Johnston’s manure. It is worth $1.73 per ton in the field.
“It costs, we have estimated, 50 cents a ton to handle the manure, and consequently it is worth in the yard $1.23 per ton.”
“This is less than we made it before,” said the Deacon.
“Never mind that,” said I, “the figures are correct. Now write down what your manure is worth:
“This will make about ten tons of manure. In this case, as in the other, we are to reduce the estimate one-half. Consequently, we have $7.35 as the value of this ten tons of manure in the field, or 73½ cents a ton. It costs, we have estimated, 50 cents a ton to handle the manure, and, therefore, it is worthin the yard, 23½ cents a ton.”
“John Johnston’s manure is worth in the yard, $1.23 per ton. The Deacon’s manure is worth in the yard, 23½ cents per ton.”
“There is some mistake,” exclaimed the Deacon, “you said, at first, that one load of John Johnston’s manure was worth as much as two of my loads. Now you make one load of his manure worth more than five loads of my manure. This is absurd.”
“Not at all, Deacon,” said I, “you made the figures yourself. You thought Mr. Lawes’ estimate too high. You reduced it one-half. The figures are correct, and you must accept the conclusion. If John Johnston’s manure is only worth $1.23 per ton in the yard, yours, made from 1 ton of corn and 3 tons of straw, is only worth 23½ cents per ton.”
“And now, Deacon,” I continued, “while you have a pencil in your hand, I want you to make one more calculation. Assuming that Mr. Lawes’ estimate is too high, and we reduce it one-half,figure up what manure is worth when made from straw alone. You take 4 tons of wheat straw, feed out part, and use part for bedding. It will give you about 10 tons of manure. And this 10 tons cost you 50 cents a ton to load, draw out, and spread. Now figure:
“Four tons of straw is worth, for manure, according to Mr. Lawes’ table, $2.68 per ton. We have agreed to reduce the figures one half, and so the
10 tons of manure from the 4 tons of straw is worth
Drawing out 10 tons of manure at 50 cents
“In other words, if John Johnston’s manure is worth only $1.23 per ton in the yard, the straw-made manure is worth only a little over 3½ cents a ton in the yard.”
“That istooabsurd,” said the Deacon.
“Very well,” I replied, “for once I am glad to agree with you. But if this is absurd, then it follows that Mr. Lawes’ estimate of the value of certain foods for manure is not so extravagant as you supposed—which is precisely what I wished to prove.”
“You have not told us how Mr. Johnston manages his manure,” said the Deacon.
“There is nothing very remarkable about it,” I replied. “There are many farmers in this neighborhood who adopt the same method. I think, however, John Johnston was the first to recommend it, and subjected himself to some criticism from some of the so-called scientific writers at the time.
“His general plan is to leave the manure in the yards, basements, and sheds, under the sheep, until spring. He usually sells his fat sheep in March. As soon as the sheep are removed, the manure is either thrown up into loose heaps in the yard, or drawn directly to the field, where it is to be used, and made into a heap there. The manure is not spread on the land until the autumn. It remains in the heaps or piles all summer, being usually turned once, and sometimes twice. The manure becomes thoroughly rotted.”
Mr. Johnston, like the Deacon, applies his manure to the corn crop. But the Deacon draws out his fresh green manure in the spring, on sod-land, and plows it under. Mr. Johnston, on the other hand, keeps his manure in a heap through the summer,spreads it on the sod in September, or the first week in October. Here it lies until next spring. The grass and clover grow up through manure, and the grass and manure are turned under next spring, and the land planted to corn.
Mr. Johnston is thoroughly convinced that he gets far more benefit from the manure when applied on the surface, and left exposed for several months, than if he plowed it under at once.
I like to write and talk about John Johnston. I like to visit him. He is so delightfully enthusiastic, believes so thoroughly in good farming, and has been so eminently successful, that a day spent in his company can not fail to encourage any farmer to renewed efforts in improving his soil. “Youmustdrain,” he wrote to me; “when I first commenced farming, I never made any money until I began to underdrain.” But it is not underdraining alone that is the cause of his eminent success. When he bought his farm, “near Geneva,” over fifty years ago, there was a pile of manure in the yard that had lain there year after year, until it was, as he said, “as black as my hat.” The former owner regarded it as a nuisance, and a few months before young Johnston bought the farm, had given some darkies a cow on condition that they would draw out this manure. They drew out six loads, took the cow—and that was the last seen of them. Johnston drew out this manure, raised a good crop of wheat, and that gave him a start. He says he has been asked a great many times to what he owes his success as a farmer, and he has replied that he could not tell whether it was “dung or credit.” It was probably neither. It was the man—his intelligence, industry, and good common sense. That heap of black mould was merely an instrument in his hands that he could turn to good account.
His first crop of wheat gave him “credit” and this also he used to advantage. He believed that good farming would pay, and it was this faith in a generous soil that made him willing to spend the money obtained from the first crop of wheat in enriching the land, and to avail himself of his credit. Had he lacked this faith—had he hoarded every sixpence he could have ground out of the soil, who would have ever heard of John Johnston? He has been liberal with his crops and his animals, and has ever found them grateful. This is the real lesson which his life teaches.
He once wrote me he had something to show me. He did not tell me what it was, and when I got there, he took me to a field of grass that was to be mown for hay. The field had been in winter wheat the year before. At the time of sowing the wheat, thewhole field was seeded down with timothy. No clover was sown, either then or in the spring; but after the wheat was sown, he put on a slight dressing of manure on two portions of the field that he thought were poor. He told the man to spread it out of the wagon just as thin as he could distribute it evenly over the land. It was a very light manuring, but the manure was rich, and thoroughly rotted. I do not recollect whether the effect of the manure was particularly noticed on the wheat; but on the grass, the following spring, the effect was sufficiently striking. Those two portions of the field where the manure was spread werecovered with a splendid crop of red clover. You could see the exact line, in both cases, where the manure reached. It looked quite curious. No clover-seed was sown, and yet there was as fine a crop of clover as one could desire.
On looking into the matter more closely, we found that there was more or less clover all over the field, but where the manure was not used, it could hardly be seen. The plants were small, and the timothy hid them from view. But where the manure was used, these plants of clover had been stimulated in their growth until they covered the ground. The leaves were broad and vigorous, while in the other case they were small, and almost dried up. This is probably the right explanation. The manure did not “bring in the clover;” it simply increased the growth of that already in the soil. It shows the value of manure for grass.
This is what Mr. Johnston wanted to show me. “I might have written and told you, but you would not have got a clear idea of the matter.” This is true. One had to see the great luxuriance of that piece of clover to fully appreciate the effect of the manure. Mr. J. said the manure on that grass was worth $30 an acre—that is, on the three crops of grass, before the field is again plowed. I have no doubt that this is true, and that the future crops on the land will also be benefited—not directly from the manure, perhaps, but from the clover-roots in the soil. And if the field were pastured, the effect on future crops would be very decided.
One of the charms and the advantages of agriculture is that a farmer must think for himself. He should study principles, and apply them in practice, as best suits his circumstances.
My own method of managing manure gives me many of the advantages claimed for the Deacon’s method, and John Johnston’s, also.
“I do not understand what you mean,” said the Deacon; “my method differs essentially from that of John Johnston.”
“True,” I replied, “you use your winter-made manure in the spring; while Mr. Johnston piles his, and gets it thoroughly fermented; but to do this, he has to keep it until the autumn, and it does not benefit his corn-crop before the next summer. He loses the use of his manure for a year.”
I think my method secures both these advantages. I get my winter-made manure fermented and in good condition, and yet have it ready for spring crops.
In the first place, I should remark that my usual plan is to cut up all the fodder for horses, cows, and sheep. For horses, I sometimes use long straw for bedding, but, as a rule, I prefer to run everything through a feed-cutter. We do not steam the food, and we let the cows and sheep have a liberal supply of cut corn-stalks and straw, and what they do not eat is thrown out of the mangers and racks, and used for bedding.
I should state, too, that I keep a good many pigs, seldom having less than 50 breeding sows. My pigs are mostly sold at from two to four months old, but we probably average 150 head the year round. A good deal of my manure, therefore, comes from the pig-pens, and from two basement cellars, where my store hogs sleep in winter.
In addition to the pigs, we have on the farm from 150 to 200 Cotswold and grade sheep; 10 cows, and 8 horses. These are our manure makers.
The raw material from which the manure is manufactured consists of wheat, barley, rye, and oat-straw, corn-stalks, corn-fodder, clover and timothy-hay, clover seed-hay, bean-straw, pea-straw, potato-tops, mangel-wurzel, turnips, rape, and mustard. These are all raised on the farm; and, in addition to the home-grown oats, peas, and corn, we buy and feed out considerable quantitiesof bran, shorts, fine-middlings, malt-combs, corn-meal, and a little oil-cake. I sell wheat, rye, barley, and clover-seed, apples, and potatoes, and sometimes cabbages and turnips. Probably, on the average, for each $100 I receive from the sale of these crops, I purchase $25 worth of bran, malt-combs, corn-meal, and other feed for animals. My farm is now rapidly increasing in 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 heap. And this is all that is needed. If the manure is rich, if it is obtained from animals eating clover-hay, bran, grain, or other food rich in nitrogen, it will soon ferment. But if the manure is poor, consisting largely of straw, it will be very desirable to make it richer by mixing with it bone-dust, blood, hen-droppings, woollen rags, chamber-lye, and animal matter of any kind that you can find.
The richer you can make the manure, the more readily will it ferment. A good plan is to take the horse or sheep manure, a few weeks previous, and use it for bedding the pigs. It will absorb the liquid of the pigs, and make rich manure, which will soon ferment when placed in a heap.
If the manure in the heap is too dry, it is a good plan, when you are killing hogs, to throw on to the manure all the warm water, hair, blood, intestines, etc. You may think I am making too much of such a simple matter, but I have had letters from farmers who have tried this plan of managing manure, and they say that they can not keep it from freezing. One reason for this is, that they do not start the heap early enough, and do not take pains to get the manure into an active fermentation before winter sets in. Much depends on this. In starting a fire, you take pains to get a little fine, dry wood, that will burn readily, and when the fire is fairly going, put on larger sticks, and presently you have such a fire that you can burn wood, coal, stubble, sods, or anything you wish. And so it is with a manure-heap. Get the fire, or fermentation, or, more strictly speaking, putrefaction fairly started, and there will be little trouble, if the heap is large enough, and fresh material is added from time to time, of continuing the fermentation all winter.
Another point to be observed, and especially in cold weather, is to keep the sides of the heap straight, and thetop level. You must expose the manure in the heap as little as possible to frost and cold winds. The rule should be to spread every wheel-barrowful of manure as soon as it is put on the heap. If left unspread on top of the heap, it will freeze; and if afterwards covered with other manure, it will require considerable heat to melt it, and thus reduce the temperature of the whole heap.
It is far less work to manage a heap of manure in this way than may be supposed from my description of the plan. The truth is, I find, in point of fact, that it isnotan easy thing to manage manure in this way; and I fear not one farmer in ten will succeed the first winter he undertakes it, unless he gives it his personal attention. It is well worth trying, however, because if your heap should freeze up, it will be, at any rate, in no worse condition than if managed in the ordinary way; and if you do succeed, even in part, you will have manure in good condition for immediate use in the spring.
As I have said before, I keep a good many pigs. Now pigs, if fed on slops, void a large quantity of liquid manure, and it is not always easy to furnish straw enough to absorb it. When straw and stalks are cut into chaff, they will absorb much more liquid than when used whole. For this reason we usually cut all our straw and stalks. We also use the litter from the horse-stable for bedding the store hogs, and also sometimes, when comparatively dry, we use the refuse sheep bedding for the same purpose. Where the sheep barn is contiguous to the pig-pens, and when the sheep bedding can be thrown at once into the pig-pens or cellar, it is well to use bedding freely for the sheep and lambs, and remove it frequently, throwing it into the pig-pens. I do not want my sheep to be compelled to eat up the straw and corn-stalks too close. I want them to pick out what they like, and then throw away what they leave in the troughs for bedding. Sometimes we take out a five-bushel basketful of these direct from the troughs, for bedding young pigs, or sows and pigs in the pens, but as a rule, we use them first for bedding the sheep, and then afterwards use the sheep bedding in the fattening or store pig-pens.
“And sometimes,” remarked the Deacon, “you use a little long straw for your young pigs to sleep on, so that they can bury themselves in the straw and keep warm.”
“True,” I replied, “and it is not a bad plan, but we are not now talking about the management of pigs, but how we treat our manure, and how we manage to have it ferment all winter.”
A good deal of our pig-manure is, to borrow a phrase from the pomologists, “double-worked.” It is horse or sheep-manure, used for bedding pigs and cows. It is saturated with urine, and is much richer in nitrogenous material than ordinary manure, and consequently will ferment orputrefymuch more rapidly. Usually pig-manure is considered “cold,” or sluggish, but this doubleworkedpig-manure will ferment even more rapidly than sheep or horse-manure alone.
Unmixed cow-manure is heavy and cold, and when kept in a heap by itself out of doors, is almost certain to freeze up solid during the winter.
We usually wheel out our cow-dung every day, and spread on the manure heap.
This is one of the things that needs attention. There will be a constant tendency to put all the cow-dung together, instead of mixing it with the lighter and more active manure from the horses, sheep, and pigs. Spread it out and cover it with some of the more strawy manure, which is not so liable to freeze.
Should it so happen—as will most likely be the case—that on looking at your heap some morning when the thermometer is below zero, you find that several wheel-barrowfuls of manure that were put on the heap the day before, were not spread, and are now crusted over with ice, it will be well to break up the barrowfuls, even if necessary to use a crowbar, and place the frozen lumps of manure on the outside of the heap, rather than to let them lie in the center of the pile. Your aim should be always to keep the center of the heap warm and in a state of fermentation. You do not want the fire to go out, and it will not go out if the heap is properly managed, even should all the sides and top be crusted over with a layer of frozen manure.
During very severe weather, and when the top is frozen, it is a good plan, when you are about to wheel some fresh manure on to the heap, to remove a portion of the frozen crust on top of the heap, near the center, and make a hole for the fresh manure, which should be spread and covered up.
When the heap is high enough, say five feet, we commence another heap alongside. In doing this, our plan is to clean out some of the sheep-sheds or pig-pens, where the manure has accumulated for some time. This gives us much more than the daily supply. Place this manure on the outside of the new heap, and then take a quantity of hot, fermenting, manure from the middle of the old heap, and throw it into the center of the new heap, and then cover it up with the fresh manure. I would put in eight or ten bushels, or as much as will warm up the center of the new heap, and start fermentation. The colder the weather, the more of this hot manure should you take from the old heap—the more the better. Fresh manure should be added to the old heap to fill up the hole made by the removal of the hot manure.
“You draw out a great many loads of manure during the winter,” said the Deacon, “and pile it in the field, and I have always thought it a good plan, as you do the work when there is little else to do, and when the ground is frozen.”
Yes, this is an improvement on my old plan. I formerly used to turn over the heap of manure in the barn-yard in March, or as soon as fermentation had ceased.
The object of turning the heap is (1st,) to mix the manure and make it of uniform quality; (2d,) to break the lumps and make the manure fine; and (3d,) to lighten up the manure and make it loose, thus letting in the air and inducing a second fermentation. It is a good plan, and well repays for the labor. In doing the work, build up the end and sides of the new heap straight, and keep the top flat. Have an eye on the man doing the work, and see that he breaks up the manure and mixes it thoroughly, and that hegoes to the bottom of the heap.
My new plan that the Deacon alludes to, is, instead of turning the heap in the yard, to draw the manure from the heap in the yard, and pile it up in another heap in the field where it is to be used. This has all the effects of turning, and at the same time saves a good deal of team-work in the spring.
diagram of field with manure heapsA, B, Manure Heaps; C, D, E,Ridges, 2½ ft. apart.The location of the manure-heap in the field deserves some consideration. If the manure is to be used for root-crops or potatoes, and if the land is to be ridged, and the manure put in the ridges, then it will be desirable to put the heap on the headland, or, better still, to make two heaps, one on the headland top of the field, and the other on the headland at the bottom of the field, as shown in the annexed engraving.