California Agriculturist and Live Stock Journal. 



Suppose 



SiippoBO, my littlb I:nly. 



Your (loll should break h(-v lii'jid; 

 Could you iniilio it. whole by cryinK 



Till your uose and eyes were red? 

 And wouldu't ii be plcasauter 



To treat it as a joke. 

 And Hay your glad 'twas dolly's 



And not your head that broke? 



Suppose your task, my little man, 



Is very hard to get; 

 Will it make it any easier 



For you to sit and fret ? 

 And wouldn't it be wiser, 



Tlian waiting like a dunce. 

 To go to work in earnest 



And learn the thing at oneeV 



Suppose the world don't please you. 



Nor the way some people do; 

 1)0 yon think the whole creation 



AVill be altered just lor you ? 

 And isn't it, my boy or girl. 



The wisest, bravest plan. 

 Whatever conies, or doesn't conie. 



To do the best yiui can? 



OUR CORNER. 



'jf^^'EVKllAL letters were crowded out of 

 our corner last moutU, and so Aiiut 

 Polly will be short with whiit she 

 ifp says, not that her heart is not full 

 •Q of good things and thoughts for her 

 dear ones, but to make room for you all 

 witli your nice letters. You will see that 

 quite a number of the jiuzzles given in 

 jirevious numbers remain unanswered. 

 Now try to find out as many as you can 

 of them, and what are not found out by 

 any of you will be entitled to premiums, 

 and the answers will be given that you 

 may see which ones have puzzled you 

 all. 



Now what have we in the letter bag? 



Strioklani), Mich., Aug., 1.S76. 

 Dear Aunt Folly: I had just given 

 up ever getting my chromos, when uncle 

 Nftthan come home from the office with 

 thom. I think they are just as pretty as 

 they can be, and I thank you ever so 

 much for them. I have made out two 

 of Tillie's puzzles in your July number. 

 The answer to her second one is "Aunt 

 I'olly, " and to her third one, "George 

 Washington." I would try to make you 

 a puzzle too, but I am so busy going to 

 school that I don't have time. I have 

 to get my Huuday-school lessons nights 

 and mcu'uiugs, besides helping my ma 

 and getting my other lessons. Good by. 

 Lucy FoED. 

 P. S, — I have a sister 1.5 years old. 

 She wants to know it she can come in, 

 too. Her name is Jennie. L. 



Why, of course; Aunt Polly doesn't 

 want to shut anybody out, big or little, 

 who wants to come into the Corner. The 

 only reason she graded the ages of those 

 nuxking out puzzles was to give the little 

 ones a fair show with those older, that's 

 all. 



Mountain Home, / 



Mono County, Cal., Sept., 1H7G. \ 

 Ed. Califoknia Ageicultdeist: Tkar 

 fiir — Some kind friend sends your valu- 

 able paper to my papa. Whoever it is, 

 lie will please accept our warmest thanks, 

 and when it ceases to come we will send 

 for it again, if wo can raise the money, 

 as we all love to read it, and papa says 

 it suits him better than anything he has 

 read lately. 



Wei], Aunt Polly, I send answers to 

 two of your puzzles — one is "Maude 

 Charlotte Card Victoria," the other is 

 "Hyacinth." May Shkkwin. 



Glad you like the .VoKicui/ruBiKT so 

 well. May, and that you will contribute 

 to Our CoriK'r. The pulilishers send the 

 magazine to your father tlire(! mouths at 

 the re(piest of a friend, and will be glad 

 r to get your father's subscription. 



I| Natividai), Se]it., 187(j. 



' Aunt J'tAli/: I live down here in Nativi- 



dad. As I did not go to school to-day I 

 looked over the "Corner," and found 

 out Tillie's puzzle. If I take o from a 

 (■ity in Nevada it leaves Elk; if I take )i 

 from a city iit France it leaves Hare, and 

 if I take a from a city in Norway it leaves 

 what we all should be — Christian. I am 

 just 13 years old, and although not as 

 smart as the President of the United 

 States, I think I am able to write a few 

 lines to Aunt Polly, anyhow. 



Joseph Riokdan. 

 P. S. — My father asked mo to find out 

 hi5w I eotild cure figs, and I told him I 

 ^vould write to you and ask your aavice. 



J. R. 



HOW TO CtTEE FIGS. 



The Editor says that the best way to 

 cure figs is to do as the Turks do (not 

 the turkeys) away off in Smyrna. In 

 the first place, the figs must be fully ripe, 

 ripe enough to drop from the tree by 

 shaking. A canvass or cloth is sjjread 

 under the tree and the ripe figs shaken 

 upon it. It is best to support the spread 

 by tying its corners to stakes to keep the 

 soft figs from mashing as they fall. Only 

 the ripe ones will fall by shaking moder- 

 ately. 



The next thing to do is to have a pot 

 of strong potash lye, very strong lye. 

 Fill an open basket with figs and dip 

 into the lye, Ifolding them inimeesed in 

 the warm lye five minutes. The use of 

 the lye ii to destroy the skin and nutral- 

 ize the acid under the skin, so that the 

 fig, when dry, will be tender and sweet. 

 Figs may be dried without using the al- 

 kali, but they will not be so nice. 



The next thing, after dipping into 

 the strong solution of potash, is to let 

 them drain over the pot. Then spread 

 them carefully on boards as you would 

 other fruit, taking care not to jam the 

 figs. AVhen night comes, cover so as to 

 keep awaj' the dew. In two or three 

 days, or as soon as the fifjs are half dry, 

 they may be pressed flat with the hand, 

 and before they get too h.ard must be 

 packed in laj'ers closely in lioxes — the 

 tighter the better. By observing these 

 rules and doing the best you can you 

 may have figs, dried figs, as nice as the 

 Smyrna figs of commerce. 



Of course, the large, rich sorts make 

 the best dried figs, as the besti^eaches or 

 apples make, when put up, better fruit 

 than poorer kinds do. No sugar is 

 needed whc'n packing the figs. The 

 sugar you see in imported tigs all comes 

 from the fruit after it is packed in boxes. 



LivEEMOKE, Sept., 1876. 

 IJair Aunt Polly: I have vacation 

 now for two weeks. When we had 

 school we tried playing "Dixie," and 

 splendid fun. I thank you very much 

 for telling me how to play it. The an- 

 swer to Tillie's first puzzle is, Aokicul- 

 TUKisT. The names of the places are, 

 Elko, Havre and Christiana. 



Yours, Maey C. 



From Sarah Sallie, of Plymouth, Am- 

 ador county. Aunt Polly gets a list of 

 rivers and mountains west of the Rocky 

 Mountains. Sarah makes out 713, all 

 classified. She is only 14 years old, and 

 deserves a siiecial premium, so Aunt 

 Polly will send her the "Peasant (iirl at 

 the Well," a very fine chromo. 



LINDA'S ORPHAN ASYLUM. 



Linda lives in the country. Shi; has 

 no little girls or boys to play with, but 

 she has an "or|)han asylum." At pres- 

 ent, the only inmate is a little white 

 chicken. The old buft' hen came off the 

 nest with live little lialls of down, but 

 something hajipened to four of them. 



and the naughty old hen thought it be- 

 neath her dignity to scratch for one 

 chicken, so she deserted the poor little 

 thing, and his innocent life would soon 

 have been over, had not Linda's tender 

 heart prompted her to take care of the 

 orphan. 



Every night Chickey comes in for her 

 to take care of him ; so she puts him in 

 the chip pail, covers him up snug and 

 warm, and he is soon in the land of Nod. 

 In the morning she is up bright and 

 early, and his contenteil little peep says 

 ho is well tended and fed. It is amusing 

 to see him hopjiing about his tin plate, 

 eating crumbs and taking sips of water 

 from his little tin dish. If he does not 

 drink often enough to suit his foster- 

 mother, she catches him up and dips his 

 head in the water. In the daytime he 

 runs outdoors, but comes in often to 

 dinner. Linda calls him her "orphan 

 asylum." When he gets older I expect 

 he will bother her mamma so much that 

 some day we will have .some nice chicken 

 stew. 



Some time I will tell you more about 

 Linda's pets, but if I say too much at 

 once. Aunt Polly's patience will be gone 

 and the little folks will never hear of the 

 "orphan asylum." 



MUSINCS OF A '49ER. 



BY UNCLE AKTHUE. 



It is now nearly a quarter of a century 

 since I first put foot on the golden shore 

 of California. Then but a boy in my 

 teens, lured from homo by the bright 

 prospects of a "golden harvest," "I 

 struck out," as the saying goes, ox-gad 

 in hand, with a will and determination 

 to face the tempest and the storm, to 

 cross the dreary desert and scale the 

 mountain bights in order to obtain — 

 what shall I say? — "a pocket full of 

 rocks" in California! 



Well, at the expiration of several tedi- 

 ous months, I arrived here, ragged, dirty, 

 bleeding and sore, and if ever I thanked 

 Providence it was about that time. Al- 

 though not having ten cents to my name, 

 my heart was full of hope. 



But if ever man needed the exercise of 

 patience, it was in those times of cross- 

 ing the plains. And this brings to mind 

 the time when, in spite of my religious 

 jiroclivities, the "unruly ox" jirovoked 

 me to profanity. 



Many experiences have I passed 

 through since then, too numerous hero 

 to mention, but as opportunities offer I 

 will continue my rambles and exijeri- 

 ences. 



"I'll Pay You for That !" 



A hen trod on a duck's foot. She did 

 not mean to do it, and it did not hurt her 

 much. But the duck said: 



"I'll pay you for that!" 



So the duck flew at the hen; but as she 

 did so her wing struck an old goose who 

 stood close by. 



"I'll pay you for that!" said the old 

 goose, and she flew at the duck; but as 

 she did so her foot tore the fur of a cat 

 who was just then in the yard. 



"I'll jiay you for that!" cried the cat, 

 and shi^ flew at the goi>sc; but ,as she did 

 so her tail brushed the eye of a sheep 

 who was near. 



"I'll p.ay you for that!" cried the 

 sheep, and he ran at the cat; but as lu^ 

 did so his foot hit the foot of a dog who 

 lay in the sun. 



"I'll pay you for that!" cried he, and 

 he ran at the sheep; but as ho did so his 

 leg sti-uck an old cow who stood by the 

 giite. 



"I'll pay you for that!" cried she, and 



she ran at the dog; but as she did so her . 

 horn grazed the skin of a horse who was 

 by a tree. 



"I'll pay you for that!" cried he, and 

 he ran at the cow. 



What a run there was! The horse 

 flew at the cow; and the cow at the dog; 

 and the dog at the sheep; and the sheep 

 at the cat; and the cat at the goose; and 

 the goose at the duck; and the duck at 

 the hen. What a noise they made to be 

 sure! 



"Hi, hi! What is all this?" cried the 

 man who had care of them. "I cannot 

 have this noise. You may staj- here, " 

 he said to the hen. But he drove the 

 duck to the pond, and the goose to the 

 field, and the cat to the barn, and the 

 sheep to her fold, and the dog to his 

 house, and the cow to her yard, and the 

 horse to his stall. 



"I'll pay you for that!" said the man. 

 — A'"'/r.sr;v/. 



LiaUOE. AND TOBACCO AT THE 

 CENTENNIAL. 



As might be expected, the whisky, 

 wine and tobacco manufacturers and 

 manipulators take great interest in the 

 Centenni:il show. So long as the sense 

 of the people allows the jiroductions to 

 be classed under the head of "agricul- 

 tural," so long they will claim respecta- 

 bility and be barnacled upon any and all 

 shows that are gotten up to foster indus- 

 trial pursuits. Thrown tipon their own 

 merits, as they should be, without the 

 support of the name "agricultural," — a 

 name they are not justly entitled to — 

 they would most likely seek some corner 

 and appear less conspicuously. So long 

 as we live, we will never recognize such 

 debasing business as the manufacture, 

 sale or use of liquor or tobacco as legiti- 

 mate "ageicultueal" pursuits. 



The eflfect at the Centennial show is 

 thus touched upon by Geo. E. Waring 

 in the Avterican Ar/Hcidluiist: 



If we take out the barrels, bottles, 

 cans, and boxes, which are filled with 

 whisky, rum, gm, tobacco, cigars, starch, 

 tomatoes, etc., we rob most of the foreign 

 exhibits of their crowning glory, and 

 sadly take away the brilliancy of the 

 display that even our own country has 

 been able to offer. This is not the place 

 in which to print objections to the pro- 

 ducts of the still, the wine-press, or the 

 tobacco field, but to see at least one- 

 fourth of this fine building filled with a 

 dazzling displaj' of cooperage, glass- 

 blowing, and label-printing, is simply 

 absurd. All this part of the show is be- 

 neath contempt, and, as an exhibition, 

 has nothing whatever to do with agricul- 

 ture — the tobacco exhibit is not quite so 

 subject to this criticism. A pyramid of 

 barrels, said to contain whisky, liighly 

 varnished, with gilded hotqjs and orna- 

 mental brands, gives one a far less ade- 

 quate idea of the products of the industry 

 of Canada, than would a simjile, printed 

 statistical table, showing the amount of 

 whisky that she produces as compared 

 with other countries. All this sort of 

 thing is a fraud. It pretends to be an 

 exhibition of materials — it is in reality 

 only an exhibition of packages, and 

 packages arc not worth sending to a 

 world's fair. Several foreign countries 

 have sent instructive and representative 

 exhibits. Those of Brazil and Liberia 

 are conspicuously so, but with a few not- 

 able exceptions of this class, there is 

 more of interest in the i:xhibitions of 

 Oregon, or Iowa, or Jlassachusetts, or 

 indeeil iu l.audrcth's exhibition of grains 

 alone, than in the whidc of those of the 

 great foreign countries. If one is seek- 

 ing the heauly of a disjilay of soil pro- 



