310 THE IRRIGA Tl ON A GE. 



ground underneath from furrow to furrow, and still keep the tog dry 

 it would be perfect work. The furrows should be made with a 

 narrow, sharp pointed shovel, and the blacksmith should be called in 

 to help in keeping it so. You should plan not to allow your 

 ground to get dry below before each irrigation, as when dry it does 

 not take water so freely. You all know the instructions for oiling 

 harness. You had better hire a good man to help you to get a good 

 "ready," and absolutely put the water where you want it and nowhere 

 else. Remember that a slow, small stream will spread faster laterally 

 and go down deeper than a rapid stream. My plan is to get the water 

 through as soon as I can without cutting. As soon as a furrow is 

 through shut it down so that it will just keep a wet shine in the 

 bottom of the furrow to the end. 



If you think irrigating an easy job, which anybody can do, I fear 

 you will not succeed on a basis of an inch to ten acres. Cross furrow- 

 ing at the end of a field, the lower end, is a great help in old orchards. 

 If this be not sufficient, then with a large hoe pull out these cross 

 furrows as far into the dry middles as you may wish, leaving the end 

 blocked. If there is a side-fall to the field work from the upper side. 

 To compensate for this side -draft put on more water on the rows you. 

 draw from. 



THAT CAT. 



BY BEN KING. 



The cat that comes to my window-sill 

 When the moon looks cold and the night 



is still 



He comes in a frenzied state, alone, 

 With a tail that stands like a pine-tree 



cone, 



And says: "I have finished my evening lark 

 And I think I can hear a hound-dog bark, 

 My whiskers are froze 'nd stick to my 



chin; 



I do wish you'd git up and let me in" 

 That cat gits in. 



But if in the solitude of the night 

 He doesn't appear to be feeling right, 

 And rises and stretches and seeks the 



door, 



And some remote corner he would explore 

 And doesn't feel satisfied just because 

 There's no good spot for to sharpen his 



claws, 



And meows and canters uneasy about, 

 Beyond the least shadow of any doubt 

 That cat gits out. 



