Talks On Manures A Series Of Familiar And Practical Talks Betwe

Chapter 40

Chapter 40779 wordsPublic domain

WHAT IS MANURE?

“What is the good of asking such a question as that?” said the Deacon; “we all know what manure is.”

“Well, then,” I replied, “tell us what it is?”

“_It is anything that will make crops grow better and bigger_,” replied the Deacon.

“That is not a bad definition,” said I; “but let us see if it is a true one. You have two rows of cabbage in the garden, and you water one row, and the plants grow bigger and better. Is _water_ manure? You cover a plant with a hand-glass, and it grows bigger and better. Is a hand-glass manure? You shelter a few plants, and they grow bigger and better. Is shelter manure? You put some pure sand round a few plants, and they grow bigger and better. Is pure sand manure? I think we shall have to reject the Deacon’s definition.”

Let us hear what the Doctor has to say on the subject.

“Manure,” replied the Doctor, “is the _food of plants_.”

“That is a better definition,” said I; “but this is really not answering the question. You say manure is plant-food. But what is plant-food?”

“Plant-food,” said the Doctor, “is composed of twelve elements, and, possibly, sometimes one or two more, which we need not here talk about. Four of these elements are gases, oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, and nitrogen. When a plant or animal is burnt, these gases are driven off. The ashes which remain are composed of potash, soda, lime, and magnesia; sulphuric acid, phosphoric acid, chlorine, and silica. In other words, the ‘food of plants’ is composed of four organic, or gaseous elements, and eight inorganic, or mineral elements, of which four have acid and four alkaline properties.”

“Thank you, Doctor,” said the Deacon, “I am glad to know what manure is. It is the food of plants, and the food of plants is composed of four gases, four acid and four alkaline elements. I seem to know all about it. All I have wanted to make my land rich was plenty of manure, and now I shall know where to get it--oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, and nitrogen; these four atmospheric elements. Then potash, soda, magnesia, and lime. I know what these four are. Then sulphur, phosphorous, silica (sand,) and chlorine (salt). I shall soon have rich land and big crops.”

Charley, who has recently come home from college, where he has been studying chemistry, looked at the Deacon, and was evidently puzzled to understand him. Turning to the Doctor, Charley asked modestly if what the Doctor had said in regard to the composition of plant food could not be said of the composition of all our animals and plants.

“Certainly,” replied the Doctor, “all our agricultural plants and all our animals, man included, are composed of these twelve elements, oxygen, hydrogen, carbon, and nitrogen; phosphorus, sulphur, silica, chlorine, potash, soda, magnesia, and lime.”

Charley said something about lime, potash, and soda, not being “elements;” and something about silica and chlorine not being found in animals.

“Yes,” said I, “and he has left out _iron_, which is an important constituent of all our farm crops and animals.” Neither the Doctor nor the Deacon heard our remarks. The Deacon, who loves an argument, exclaimed: “I thought I knew all about it. You told us that manure was the food of plants, and that the food of plants was composed of the above twelve elements; and now you tell us that man and beast, fruit and flower, grain and grass, root, stem, and branch, all are composed or made up of these same dozen elements. If I ask you what bread is made of, you say it is composed of the dozen elements aforesaid. If I ask what wheat-straw is made of, you answer, the _dozen_. If I ask what a thistle is made of, you say the dozen. There are a good many milk-weeds in my strawberry patch, and I am glad to know that the milk-weed and the strawberry are both composed of the same dozen elements. Manure is the food of plants, and the food of plants is composed of the above dozen elements, and every plant and animal that we eat is also composed of these same dozen elements, and so I suppose there is no difference between an onion and an omelet, or between bread and milk, or between mangel-wurzel and manure.”

“The difference,” replied the Doctor, “is one of proportion. Mangels and manure are both composed of the same elements. In fact, mangels make good manure, and good manure makes good mangels.”

The Deacon and the Doctor sat down to a game of backgammon, and Charley and I continued the conversation more seriously.