The Farm.

Southern Cross, Volume 1, Issue 26, 23 September 1893, Page 3

The Farm.

FARMING IN ENGLAND. GLIMPSES OF COUNTRY LIFE. A BIG SEWAGE FARM. (By W. H. Mathieson.) What is it that makes the farmers swear, Although the skies are wondrous fair, And sunshine lingers everywhere— The weather. What causes us to watch in vain For some small clouds denoting rain, And cry “ Oh lor ! one little drain ?” The weather. What keeps the price of hay so high, Makes people moist and rivers dry, While fever keeps up the supply ?—’ The weather. Like all things in the “ Big Village,” as the Londoners like to call their City, the Midland Railway Station is very large. It is 400 feet long, with a circular roof 100 feet high by 200 feet broad. The train I travelled by to Birmingham was a fast one for the first 70 miles. I had then to change into a slow one for the remainder of the distance—l2o miles in all. For the first few miles we went rather slow, until we got outside the city limits, which I saw were expanding on all sides ; long ranges of tenement houses were going up, showing unmistakeably that London is still growing, and that vigorously. The traffic was very heavy here, but when we got out of the city proper the pace was grand. The first really rural scene I saw was a lot of people making hay and (tell it not in Gath) they were cutting it with the scythe and raking it with the old wooden rake. The fields were from five to 10 acres in extent . 1 saw none any larger. They were nicely tilled, and had well-kept hawthorn hedges, with a tree about every 20 feet. This had from a distance a very fine effect, as the country could best be described as rolling downs. It gave the landscape the appeai-ance of a vast park. The object of these trees is to supply needed shade for the sheep and cattle during the midday heat. They were admirably suited for the purpose, being bunchy from about six feet up, and none were above 20 feet high. They were, I was informed, oak, elm, ash and lime. I should strongly recommend our farmers to plant any deciduous trees that will flourish in our soil, and I shot Id respectfully ask our worthy Mr Waugh, the corporation gardener, to give the farmers the benefit of his long experience as to what will, and what will not, grow in Southland, as there is no man more able to do so ; and if he induces the farmers to grow trees on the plan I have referred to he will not only benefit our climate and delight the lovers of the beautiful in nature, but assist materially to redeem our district from the rather bleak appearance it now presents. It would also prove an inestimable boon to the poor animals that are condemned to live there in the tropical heat of summer, and the cold, wet, bleak days of winter. I saw plenty of examples of this as I was whisked past in the long ride through England and Scotland. The weather was intensely hot, and it was pleasant to see the mares and foals, the cattle and sheep gladly reposing under the welcome shade afforded by these trees, and I feel confident that the sight alone would have far more effect in deciding- fanners to adopt the course I have proposed than anything I may write on the subject. I feel so strongly on this point that should I ever get back I will take another opportunity to state my views to the Farmers 1 Unions. The country through which I was passing could best be described as grazing. I saw a few turnip crops heavily manured with what looked like bone dust and guano. The crop of bay that was being cut in many instances was not half a foot high, and I was told by a farmer who was travelling with me that on an average it would not cut above a ton to six acres. When it comes to he told that the yearly rent of the land ranged from £4 5s down to 15s per acre, it could well be seen

that the • farmers near, - , .Londonare in a poor plight/ and many of them, I was informed, would be ruined. The price of hay had risen from £4 to £9 per ton, and so serious is their condition that I read just before I left London that Mr Gladstone proposed a Royal Commission to investigate the causes that had brought this about. [The price of hay has since fallen.] I rather surprised the farmer above mentioned when I told him that the yearly rent paid per acre for the land about London would about pay for the fee simple of our land, and that this same land would produce from 40 to TOO bushels to the acre under favororable conditions, but I had to add, sadly, “ we are unable to get £9 per ton for our hay,” and 1 mentally thought, “ if we did, you would not catch me making buggies for them, as I would he employed in the more congenial occupation of a jolly farmer myself.” Hence these lines at the commencement of my letter ; although the country had been excessively diy, the grass was beautifully green, thanks to several showers that had fallen the week before, bnt they had fallen too late to be of any service to the hay crop unfortunately. I was very much surprised at not seeing many farm houses like those we see in our own land, but every few miles we passed splendid castles or large buildings surrounded by lovely trees. I missed the birds, as I expected to have seen all kinds and sizes flying about. The first 1 saw were the rooks. They were plentiful everywhere. We passed like a flash a shepherd hoy with his flock of black-faced sheep with a big leather bag- on his shoulder, and his faithful dog by his side. Another field had the water cart standing in the middle of it with a flock of sheep waiting for their daily supply. Another field had an engine and combine without any covering (bad farming). Through a small town, past a river with men racing in outrigger skiffs, on, on we went, at a speed that was perfectly exhilarating to me. I felt like a boy again, my spirits rose accordingly. We passed a goods train travelling- |the same way as as if they were standing still, but when we passed express trains on the line next us (there were four lines of rails) I leant out to catch a glimpse of them, but was blown back by the force of the air. On, on we journeyed, passing stations so fast that it was impossible to read the names,' although they were printed in large black letters on a white ground. In what seemed to me a few minutes, hut was in reality an hour and a quarter, we arrived at where I had to change, the 70 miles being done in that time. This was the finest ride I ever had. I ran forward to see the engine that had done this journey, and only got one question put to the driver—“ What is the height of your driving- wheel P” “ Seven feet,” he said His hand was on the lover, and she was off again. I mentioned in my last letter that stock had been rushed into the market and had brought the price down, but it will only be temporary, as it is bound to rise again. I could not help noticing the absence ox stock alongthe route of the railway. The best farm I saw through England and Scotland was the sewage farm a few miles from Birminham, belonging to ■the Corporation. The country there is decidedly level, and Hie disposal of the sewage has been a burning question with them for years. The farm lies out of the town several miles, and is of some considerable size. They pump the sewage up to covered boxes, running- with a gradual fall out to the farm. A paddock is prepared by putting earthwork round it, and the sewage is run into it until it gets full. It is then turned into another paddock. prepared for the purpose and so on. The first one is allowed to lie by until the stench and water has completely gone, and is then turned up by hand. The crops that this land grows, as can be expected, are something- wonderful. They supply the town of Birmingham with vege-

tables, and large quantities of them (whole train loads) go to supply the market at London. This farm, I understand, nearly pays the cost, and the town of Birmingham therefore has solved a problem that has, and is likely, to cost Dunedin dear, and will no doubt, as our town gets larger, cost us a considerable sum of mone} 1 -, as our system of drainage and the disposal of sewage, especially in the flat, will be a. burning question before we are many years older, or I am a false prophet.