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 much _in bulk_, but one load of my manure is
worth four loads of your long, coarse manure, composed principally 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, _make_ any 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 of _managing_ manure 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 op