"From 90 to 125, according to the timber. But we must work hard to make good wages."

"That applies to other things besides post-splitting, doesn't it?"

Closer inspection of the wood lot gratified me exceedingly. Little had been done for it except by Nature, but she had worked with so prodigal a hand that it showed all kinds of possibilities, both for beauty and for utility. Before leaving the place, I had a little talk with Nelson.

"Everything is going on nicely," he said. "I have ten carpenters, and they are a busy lot. If I can only hold them on to the job, things will go well."

"What's the matter? Can't you hold them?"

"I hope so, but there is a hoisters' strike on in the city, and the carpenters threaten to go out in sympathy. I hope it won't reach us, but I'm afraid it will."

"What will you do if the men go out?"

"Do the best I can. I can get two non-union men that I know of. They would like to be on this job now, but these men won't permit it. My son is a full hand, so there will be four of us; but it will be slow work."

"See here, Nelson, I can't have this work slack up. We haven't time.

Cold weather will be on before we know it. I'm going to take this bull by the horns. I'll advertise for carpenters in the Sunday papers. Some of those who apply will be non-union men, and I'll hold them over for a few days until we see how the cat jumps. If it comes to the worst, we can get some men to take the place of Thompson and Sam, who are carpenters, and set them at the tools. I will not let this work stop, strike or no strike."

"If you put non-union men on you will have to feed and sleep them on the place. The union will make it hot for them."

"I will take all kinds of care of every man who gives me honest work, you may be sure."

When I returned to town I sent this "ad." to two papers: "Wanted: Ten good carpenters to go to the country." The Sunday papers gave a lurid account of the sentiment of the Carpenters' Union and its sympathetic att.i.tude toward the striking hoisters. The forecast was that there would not be a nail driven if the strike were not settled by Tuesday night.

It seemed that I had not moved a day too soon. On Monday thirty-seven carpenters applied at my office. Most of them had union tickets and were not considered. Thirteen, however, were not of the union, and they were investigated. I hired seven on these conditions: wages to begin the next day, Tuesday, and to continue through the week, work or no work. If the strike was ordered, I would take the men to the country and give them steady work until my jobs were finished. They agreed to these conditions, and were requested to report at my office on Wednesday morning to receive two days' pay, and perhaps to be set to work.

I did not go to the farm until Tuesday afternoon. There was no change in the strike, and no reason to expect one. The noon papers said that the Carpenters' Union would declare a sympathetic strike to be on from Wednesday noon.

On reaching Four Oaks I called Nelson aside and told him how the land lay and what I had done.

"I want you to call the men together," said I, "and let me talk to them.

I must know just how we stand and how they feel."

Nelson called the men, and I read the reports from two papers on the impending strike order.

"Now, men," said I, "we must look this matter in the face in a businesslike fashion. You have done good work here; your boss is satisfied, and so am I. It would suit us down to the ground if you would continue on until all these jobs are finished. We can give you a lot of work for the best part of the year. You are sure of work and sure of pay if you stay with us. That is all I have to say until you have decided for yourselves what you will do if the strike is ordered."

I left the men for a short time, while they talked things over. It did not take them long to decide.

"We must stand by the union," said the spokesman, "but we'll be d.a.m.ned sorry to quit this job. You see, sir, we can't do any other way. We have to be in the union to get work, and we have to do as the union says or we will be kicked out. It is hard, sir, not to do a hit of a hammer for weeks or months with a family on one's hands and winter coming; but what can a man do? We don't see our way clear in this matter, but we must do as the union says."

"I see how you are fixed," said I, "and I am mighty sorry for you. I am not going to rail against unions, for they may have done some good; but they work a serious wrong to the man with a family, for he cannot follow them without bringing hardships upon his dependent ones. It is not fair to yoke him up with a single man who has no natural claims to satisfy, no mouth to feed except his own; but I will talk business.

"You will be ordered out to-morrow or next day, and you say you will obey the order. You have an undoubted right to do so. A man is not a slave, to be made to work against his will; but, on the other hand, is he not a slave if he is forced to quit against his will? Freedom of action in personal matters is a right which wise men have fought for and for which wise men will always fight. Do you find it in the union? What shall I do when you quit work? How long are you going to stay out? What will become of my interests while you are following the lead of your bell-wethers? Shall my work stop because you have been called out for a holiday? Shall the weeds grow over these walls and my lumber rot while you sit idly by? Not by a long sight! You have a perfect right to quit work, and I have a perfect right to continue.

"The rights which we claim for ourselves we must grant to others. One man certainly has as defensible a right to work as another man has to be idle. In the legitimate exercise of personal freedom there is no effort at coercion, and in this case there shall be none. If you choose to quit, you will do so without let or hindrance from me; but if you quit, others will take your places without let or hindrance from you. You will be paid in full to-night. When you leave, you must take your tools with you, that there may be no excuse for coming back. When you leave the place, the incident will be closed so far as you and I are concerned, and it will not be opened unless I find some of you trying to interfere with the men I shall engage to take your places. I think you make a serious mistake in following blind leaders who are doing you material injury, for sentimental reasons; but you must decide this for yourselves. If, after sober thought, any of you feel disposed to return, you can get a job if there is a vacancy; but no man who works for me during this strike will be displaced by a striker. You may put that in your pipes and smoke it. Nelson will pay you off to-night."

The strike was ordered for Wednesday. On the morning of that day the seven carpenters whom I had engaged arrived at my office ready for work.

I took them to the station and started for Four Oaks. At a station five miles from Exeter we quitted the train, hired two carriages, and were driven to the farm without pa.s.sing through the village.

We arrived without incident, the men had their dinners, and at one o'clock the hammers and saws were busy again. We had lost but one half day. The two non-union men whom Nelson had spoken of were also at work, and three days later the spokesman of the strikers threw up his card and joined our force. We had no serious trouble. It was thought wise to keep the new men on the place until the excitement had pa.s.sed, and we had to warn some of the old ones off two or three times, but nothing disagreeable happened, and from that day to this Four Oaks has remained non-unionized.

CHAPTER XIII

PLANNING FOR THE TREES

The morning of September 17th a small frost fell,--just enough to curl the leaves of the corn and show that it was time for it to be laid by.

Thompson, Johnson, Anderson, and the two men from the woods, who were diverted from their post-splitting for the time being, went gayly to the corn fields and attacked the standing grain in the old-fashioned way.

This was not economical; but I had no corn reaper, and there was none to hire, for the frost had struck us all at the same time. The five men were kept busy until the two patches--about forty-three acres--were in shock. This brought us to the 24th. In the meantime the men and women moved from the cottage to the more commodious farm-house. Polly had found excuses for spending $100 more on the furnishings of this house,--two beds and a lot of other things. Sunday gave the people a chance to arrange their affairs; and they certainly appreciated their improved surroundings.

The cottage was moved to its place on the line, and the last of the seeding on the north forty was done. Ten tons of fertilizer were sown on this forty-acre tract (at a cost of $250), and it was then left to itself, not to be trampled over by man or beast, except for the stretching of fences or for work around some necessary buildings, until the middle of the following May.

We did not sow any wheat that year,--there was too much else to be done of more importance. There is not much money in wheat-farming unless it be done on a large scale, and I had no wish to raise more than I could feed to advantage. Wheat was to be a change food for my fowls; but just then I had no fowls to feed, and there were more than two hundred bushels in stacks ready for the threshers, which I could hold for future hens.

The ploughmen were now directed to commence deep ploughing on No.

14,--the forty acres set apart for the commercial orchard. This tract of land lay well for the purpose. Its surface was nearly smooth, with a descent to the west and southwest that gave natural drainage. I have been informed that an orchard would do better if the slope were to the northeast. That may be true, but mine has done well enough thus far, and, what is more to the point, I had no land with a northeast slope.

The surface soil was thin and somewhat impoverished, but the subsoil was a friable clay in which almost anything would grow if it was properly worked and fed. It was my desire to make this square block of forty acres into a first-cla.s.s apple orchard for profit. Seven years from planting is almost too soon to decide how well I have succeeded, but the results attained and the promises for the future lead me to believe that there will be no failure in my plan.

The three essentials for beginning such an orchard are: prepare the land properly, get good stock (healthy and true to name), and plant it well.

I could do no more this year than to plough deep, smooth the surface, and plant as well as I knew how. Increased fertility must come from future cultivation and top dressing. The thing most prominent in my plan was to get good trees well placed in the ground before cold weather set in. At my time of life I could not afford to wait for another autumn, or even until spring. I had, and still have, the opinion that a fall-planted tree is nearly six months in advance of one planted the following spring. Of course there can be no above-ground growth during that time, but important things are being done below the surface. The roots find time to heal their wounds and to send out small searchers after food, which will be ready for energetic work as soon as the sun begins to warm the soil. The earth settles comfortably about these roots and is moulded to fit them by the autumn rains. If the stem is well braced by a mound of earth, and if a thick mulch is placed around it, much will be done below ground before deep frosts interrupt the work; and if, in the early spring, the mulch and mound are drawn back, the sun's influence will set the roots at work earlier by far than a spring tree could be planted.

Other reasons for fall planting are that the weather is more settled, the ground is more manageable, help is more easily secured, and the nurserymen have more time for filling your order. Any time from October 15 until December 10 will answer in our climate, but early November is the best. I had decided to plant the trees in this orchard twenty-five feet apart each way. In the forty acres there would be fifty-two rows, with fifty-two trees in each row,--or twenty-seven hundred in all. I also decided to have but four varieties of apples in this orchard, and it was important that they should possess a number of virtues. They must come into early bearing, for I was too old to wait patiently for slow-growing trees; they must be of kinds most dependable for yearly crops, for I had no respect for off years; and they must be good enough in color, shape, and quality to tempt the most fastidious market. I studied catalogues and talked with pomologists until my mind was nearly unsettled, and finally decided upon Jonathan, Wealthy, Rome Beauty, and Northwestern Greening,--all winter apples, and all red but the last. I was helped in my decision, so far as the Jonathans and Rome Beauties were concerned, by the discovery that more than half of the old orchard was composed of these varieties.

There is little question as to the wisdom of planting trees of kinds known to have done well in your neighborhood. They are just as likely to do well by you as by your neighbor. If the fruit be to your liking, you can safely plant, for it is no longer an experiment; some one else has broken that ground for you.

In casting about for a reliable nurseryman to whom to trust the very important business of supplying me with young trees, I could not long keep my attention diverted from Rochester, New York. Perhaps the reason was that as a child I had frequently ridden over the plank road from Henrietta to Rochester, and my memory recalled distinctly but three objects on that road,--the house of Frederick Dougla.s.s, Mount Hope Cemetery, and a nursery of young trees. Everything else was obscure. I fancy that in fifty years the Dougla.s.s house has disappeared, but Mount Hope Cemetery and the tree nursery seem to mock at time. The soil and climate near Rochester are especially favorable to the growing of young trees, and my order went to one of the many reliable firms engaged in this business. The order was for thirty-four hundred trees,--twenty-seven hundred for the forty-acre orchard and seven hundred for the ten acres farthest to the south on the home lot. Polly had consented to this invasion of her domain, for reasons. She said:--

"It is a long way off, rather flat and uninteresting, and I do not see exactly how to treat it. Apple trees are pretty at most times, and picturesque when old. You can put them there, if you will seed the ground and treat it as part of the lawn. I hate your old straight rows, but I suppose you must have them."

"Yes, I guess I shall have to have straight rows, but I will agree to the lawn plan after the third year. You must give me a chance to cultivate the land for three years."

Your tree-man must be absolutely reliable. You have to trust him much and long. Not only do you depend upon him to send you good and healthy stock, but you must trust, for five years at least, that this stock will prove true to name. The most discouraging thing which can befall a horticulturist is to find his new fruit false to purchase labels. After wait, worry, and work he finds that he has not what he expected, and that he must begin over again. It is cold comfort for the tree-man to make good his guarantee to replace all stock found untrue, for five years of irreplaceable time has pa.s.sed. When you have spent time, hope, and expectation as well as money, looking for results which do not come, your disappointment is out of all proportion to your financial loss, be that never so great. In the best-managed nurseries there will be mistakes, but the better the management the fewer the mistakes. Pay good prices for young trees, and demand the best. There is no economy in cheap stock, and the sooner the farmer or fruit-grower comprehends this fact, the better it will be for him. I ordered trees of three years'

growth from the bud,--this would mean four-year-old roots. Perhaps it would have been as well to buy smaller ones (many wise people have told me so), but I was in such a hurry! I wanted to pick apples from these trees at the first possible moment. I argued that a st.u.r.dy three-year-old would have an advantage over its neighbor that was only two. However small this advantage, I wanted it in my business--my business being to make a profitable farm in quick time. The ten acres of the home lot were to be planted with three hundred Yellow Transparent, three hundred d.u.c.h.ess of Oldenburg, and one hundred mixed varieties for home use. I selected the Transparent and the d.u.c.h.ess on account of their disposition to bear early, and because they are good sellers in a near market, and because a fruit-wise friend was making money from an eight-year-old orchard of three thousand of these trees, and advised me not to neglect them.

My order called for thirty-four hundred three-year-old apple trees of the highest grade, to be delivered in good condition on the platform at Exeter for the lump sum of $550. The agreement had been made in August, and the trees were to be delivered as near the 20th of October as practicable. Apple trees comprised my entire planting for the autumn of 1895. I wanted to do much other work in that line, but it had to be left for a more convenient season. Hundreds of fruit trees, shade trees, and shrubs have since been planted at Four Oaks, but this first setting of thirty-four hundred apple trees was the most important as well as the most urgent.

The orchard was to be a prominent feature in the factory I was building, and as it would be slower in coming to perfection than any other part, it was wise to start it betimes. I have kicked myself black and blue for neglecting to plant an orchard ten years earlier. If I had done this, and had spent two hours a month in the management of it, it would now be a thing of beauty and an income-producing joy forever,--or, at least, as long as my great-grandchildren will need it.

There is no danger of overdoing orcharding. The demand for fruit increases faster than the supply, and it is only poor quality or bad handling that causes a slack market. If the general farmer will become an expert orchardist, he will find that year by year his ten acres of fruit will give him a larger profit than any forty acres of grain land; but to get this result he must be faithful to his trees. Much of the time they are caring for themselves, and for the owner, too; but there are times when they require sharp attention, and if they do not get it promptly and in the right way, they and the owner will suffer. Fruit growing as a sole occupation requires favorable soil, climate, and market, and also a considerable degree of apt.i.tude on the part of the manager, to make it highly profitable. A fruit-grower in our climate must have other interests if he would make the most of his time. While waiting for his fruit he can raise food for hens and hogs; and if he feeds hens and hogs, he should keep as many cows as he can. He will then use in his own factory all the raw material he can raise. This will again be returned to the land as a by-product, which will not only maintain the fertility of the farm, but even increase it. If his cows are of the best, they will yield b.u.t.ter enough to pay for their food and to give a profit; the skim milk, fed to the hogs and hens, will give eggs and pork out of all proportion to its cost; and everything that grows upon his land can thus be turned off as a finished product for a liberal price, and yet the land will not be depleted. The orchard is better for the hens and hogs and cows, and they are better for the orchard. These industries fit into each other like the folding of hands; they seem mutually dependent, and yet they are often divorced, or, at best, only loosely related. This view may seem to be the result of _post hoc_ reasoning, but I think it is not. I believe I imbibed these notions with my mother's milk, for I can remember no time when they were not mine. The psalmist said, "Comfort me with apples"; and the psalmist was reputed a wise man. With only sufficient wisdom to plant an orchard, I live in high expectation of finding the same comfort in my old age.

CHAPTER XIV

PLANTING OF THE TREES