The progressive farmer. [volume] (Winston, N.C.) 1886-1904, 1890-07-29
BILL NYE'S LETTER.
He Goes to See Jay Gould, and Tells
How He Does His Haying.
Some Of the Beauties of hvington-A
Visit to the Hornets and q Search
for Better Things Mr.. Goud's
Little Piece.
Copyright, 1890, by Edgar ". Nye.l

uOOpyFlghL, 1871, by EDGAR W. Nye.l
Every summer I like to ride up to
1rvington and spend a couple of days with
Jay Gould. He treats me well while
there at his house. and though nothing is
said about it at the time there is a tacit
understanding that l am to write a piece
about him for the papers when I get
home.
1t is the pleaSantest time always to go
up during the haying season, which be-
gins In June VT RACES with more or less
violt nee for two days.
Irvington is a beautiful little Eest Of
well-to- do farmers like Jay Gould, Cy
Field and such thrifty grangers as Hank
Willard, whose place is a little lower
down the river at Dobb's ferry. Hank
and Cy Field change work~rs in haying,
but Jay keeps help enough to put in all
of his grass himself. Sometimes he used
t o help Bob Hoe in haying, and Bob
would help him in stacking, but since the
death of Mr.. Hoe Jay doesn't depend
much on the help Of the neighbors.
Mr.. Gould's place sits back from the
main road quite a piece, and has IN ell to
it. AS you drive in you see four or five
men with sheep shears trimming off the
3 uS "LnShCIS III O4O ulOlJs IL 4dS NuILO
a good lot of tillable land around the
house and he has a conservatory about
the size of the Paris exposition. In this
he grows quite a quantity of rare e~xotics,
such as four-o'clocks, marigolds, batch
elor's buttons, "sturshOns," moIning
glories and Johnny jump-ups Cor Johnny
jumps-up, rather) Mr.. Gould is a great
forticulturalist and raises his own seeds
rather than trust to the gaudy but pre-
varicating catalogue of the professional
scotsman.
Across the main road from the house
is the hay lot. 1t covers about FIVE and
three-fourths acres, perhaps, and so with
twenty-seven men, all willing to pitch
right in with enthusiasm, Mr.. Gould is
able to get his haying out of the way in
time to give him a week in town. This
year he was drawn on the jury in New
York just as he was going into the hay
field. For a while he didn't know whether
to go down and make sure of his little
old 81 a day, CT stick to the haying and
say the crop; but finally he threw his
scythe over his shoulder and said, "Come
on, boys, they can get other jurymen,
but you would be a long while getting
another man to take my place in the hay
field"
Later I saw by the paper that Mr..
Gould was fined 500 for non appearance
when his name was called.
els it true 1 asked him yesterday at
an equestrian lunch counter, that the
Judge fined you 800 for contempt? ?"
eyes," said Mr.. GoulI, removing a
6llet of wienerwurst from his whiskers
and speaking in deep, interest bearing
netes, II was fined 500 by the Judge as
you say, but l proved b. one of my hired
hands that l was a member Of the larry
town Hook and Ladder company, and so
the Judge RENTED the fine"
On a bright June morning, when the
wood bird wakes the echoes along the
Hudson and the wren and the thrush
come down to battle their little beaks in
the beautiful brook which sings past the
door of Washington Irving's quaint and
queer old home, the quick ear catches the
sound of voices out behind Mr.. Gould's
barn. Following this sound one comes
to a merry group Of Glands" clustered
about a large grinds one which has bacon
rinds under the bearings. A small boy,
reeking with perspiration, is turning the
stone, while Mr.. Gould with an old scyt e
may be seen riding on top of it. There
are other men about wLO could turn the
grindstone easier than the small boy is
turning it, but no n is hopeful enough
to turn a ~igrindstone but a boy. 1t dis
courages a man, so it is customary to
secure a boy to do this heart breaking
job, and generally a boy WHO'S about to
go fishing is selected. He grinds on hour
after, while his worms are baking in the
sun and his heart is slowly dying in his
little bosom.
Later on the merry work hands go JOY
ously afeld. A jug containing spring
water and a small straddle bag is taken to
the lot and concealed under a swath Of
green grass. Mr.. Gould, wearing a pail
| Of brown linen trousers and blue Wan,
mus, together with a chip hat, rolls up his
| sleeves so as to reveal the raven pir
feathers now slowly turning to iron gray
which adorn his brawny arms. He ther
stands his scythe and swath up where he
can get it, and pulling a large four-pound
whet, tone from his pistol pocket, pro.
ceeds to put a keen wire edge on hi'
weapon.
1t is quite interesting to see Mr.. GoulC
and twenty-seven willing ~husbandmer
turn loose on a little bunch of grass anC
wipe it out ia two days. The hay is
mixture Of red top, timothy and rec
clover, with ornamental hornets nests
made of paper mache in the fence
corners.
In his conversation, Mr.. Gould uses &
good many railroad terms, of course, to-
gether with his farm slang, and most Of
his orders are given to a bald-headeC
Spaniard with an ecru plastron of Ma.
gena whiskers, whose name is Torrance
McClusky.
"Terrance," said Mr.. Gould the Other
morning as he swung the jug over his arm 7
would be cheaper next season to fix uI
the old mower. You see it costs me
$1O8 now to NOW this grass. Then new
scythes and snaths each year $54 more
So for whetstones, So for ornamental
hornets nests. and saw $50 for board Of