California Agriculturist and Live Stock Journal. 



great march of events must go right on 

 the same as ever, as though nothing had 

 happened, and a fresh helpmeet is soon 

 installed. The poor children! Oh, well, 

 to be sure, in all the wide world they 

 can have but one mother!" 



"But now to this day's work — I must 

 hurry to get it done before I am too 

 tired." The tire was burning nicely 



now. Mrs. S had been thinking 



and talking, while warming her fingers 

 and lacing her shoes, so there had been 

 no time lost. Her journal of to-night 

 will show whether she finished her day's 

 work without getting too tired. 



SATURDAY EVENING REVERY— 

 NO- 3. 



BY M. B. T. 



Close application and late hours en- 

 abled me to finish my new suit — ruflSes, 

 bands, buttons and bows, all complete, 

 and in due time for the contemplated 

 visit. And now, before attempting to 

 gather up the tangled threads of dis- 

 course, permit me to say that I have had 

 a very pleasant visit indeed. I spent a 

 night at the hospitable home of our Ed- 

 itor and his amiable wife, Mrs. H., a 

 lady of high mental culture. lu her I 

 have had the rare pleasure of seeing a 

 woman who possesses the moral courage 

 to practice after the counsels of her bet- 

 ter judgment. We had quite a tde-a-ide, 

 frcm which I drew both pleasure and 

 profit. Among congenial natures there 

 is a soul-stirring element that lifts us to 

 a higher plane of existence. We rise 

 for a time, as it were, above the quag- 

 mire of pretense and folly, and reach 

 out, longing to plant our feet more firm- 

 ly. But the elements conflict. Temp- 

 tation, like some tempest to.ssed wave, 

 overtakes us, and we fall again into fool- 

 ish frivolities. Nobody pities us — at 

 least very few. This lack of sympathy 

 is the very subject I meant to ponder in 

 my evening's revery, as one of the un- 

 pleasant consequences arising from our 

 improper mode of living. 



Did you never think how little love 

 and symjiathy we get as a class? The 

 wealthy condemn and despise us for at- 

 tampting to compete with them; while 

 those below us on the ladder of life en- 

 tertain opinions, as many as there are 

 rounds. Some are jealous, some are en- 

 vious, and some bemean us; but nobody 

 pities us. Surely, poverty and respecta- 

 bilit}' combined make for us the roughest 

 roud of all in the great human ladder. 



[Against the better judqtnent and request 

 of Mrs. H., the editor allows the above 

 deserved compliment to his wife from 

 friend M. E. T. to appear. And we will 

 here take occasion to put in a word as 

 to M. E. T.'s sentiments about poverty 

 and respectability. While we sympa- 

 thize with and pity, we cannot partici- 

 pate in the sentiment. We claim to 

 know what poverty means, and to be re- 

 spectable, but positively have no desire 

 for the society of persons who allow 

 their wealth to become a bar between us. 

 To gain wealth for the privilege of such 

 society, is happily no part of our ambi- 

 tion. It seems to us that it must lower 

 any person in his own estimation to even 

 care for such. 



There is a plane on which congenial 

 spirits can meet — the plane of honest 

 frankness. The artificial life framed in 

 accord with conventional customs of 

 aristocratic pride, is in conflict with 

 .Americanized social ideas, and contrary 

 to ennobling feelings and to common 

 sense. 



Monty surely gives great power. It 

 can build palaces and command armies. 

 But the man who is respectable and rich 



might be as respectable and poor. In 

 manly and womanly independence, moral 

 principles, intelligence, determined char- 

 acter, the love of justice and of doing 

 good, together with all the traits that add 

 grace, kindness and afi'ectionate sympa- 

 thy to the soul, there is much to resjject 

 and to love. The rich do not monopo- 

 lize these virtues. The "poor and re- 

 spectable" may possess them and other 

 desirable qualities in a high degree. The 

 wealthy mostly covet their possessions 

 of money, and depend rather upon the 

 homage paid their wealth, and with these 

 rest satisfied. 



Triie and perfect friendship depends 

 not upon wealth, pretense nor pride. It 

 it is unostentatious and unassuming. It 

 lives not upon dress-trimmings nor out- 

 ward show. By the law of congeniality 

 it springs from the hearts desires, and 

 grows through mutual, reciprocated, up- 

 reaching thoughts, feelings sentiments, 

 souls. 



One real friend is worth a world of 

 riches;— a million worlds of hollow 

 hearts. A few choice friends, and such 

 as care for each other's society, for the 

 mutual benefits and enjoyments, are 

 enough. The whole human family is 

 as much ours as anybody's, but it is only 

 such as choose us and such as we choose 

 that we care for as special friends, com- 

 panions or associates. 



It is worth being "poor and respecta- 

 ble" to know our real friends. Poverty 

 may be an inconvenience, narrowing our 

 powers, comforts and enjoyments op- 

 pressively. But after all it is a trifling 

 evil, born of man's selfishness and greed, 

 and borne by others as deserving as any 

 of us. Let us see that our pride makes 

 us not envious, and that our desires are 

 in harmony with the better promptings 

 of our natures. — Ed. Agkicultubist. 



HOME MUSINGS. 

 Greeting from the Redwoods. 



BY M. E. O. W. 



Every month that the Aohicultukist 

 has been laid on the study table, in its 

 tasty, neat dress, we've wanted to write 

 and say how very much wo thought of it. 

 But cares and sickness have prevented. 

 Why could we not have been made so as 

 to go "all at once, and nothing first," 

 as the Deacon's "One HossShay" did. 



It's such jolly fun to go here and there 

 and everywhere, do lots of work, have 

 much done, a clean house, yard and gar- 

 den. It's such a comfort that every- 

 thing unsightly has been removed, and 

 we can sit down contented. The jvtyinq 

 up for llie overdoing is the part we don't 

 like. 



Here it is November, with its frosty 

 nights and sunny days. The bright 

 leaves on the forest trees and vines speak 

 of the near Winter — such beautiful Win- 

 ters as California has! If humanity 

 would only look for and accept the lovely 

 little things, as they come along to make 

 our lives noble and good, what a world 

 of perfect pleasure this Earth would be. 



This morning the old adage came up, 

 that 'twas "better /ate than never." The 

 stud}- looked so inviting, with its fresh 

 flowers and cheerful wood fire, — who 

 wouldn't write? 



How many times have we thought of 

 the little mother, "propped up with pil- 

 lows," and "the dear baby face" nestled 

 so close to the warm loving heart. We 

 have pictured the sweet home, away ofl' 

 somewhere — where we shall never find it, 

 only in the Agkiccltckist — of two 

 strong, faithful hearts, giving glad wel- 

 come to the little stranger. 'The pleas- 

 ant castles we have built for the wee 

 nestling, (^in mercy may they ■ never 



tumble about his ears,) of when he shall 

 have grown for twenty-one bright Sum- 

 mers — does not chew or smoke tobacco, 

 nor drink any of the vile compounds 

 made for humanity's ruin, and can ex- 

 press in gentle language all pure 

 thoughts, with no room in the noble 

 mind for any other; can think that a 

 woman is as good as a man, therefore 

 should be equal, and love the little 

 mother so tenderly true. Will it not 

 bring balm for that "aching body," and 

 a happiness into that "every-day same- 

 ness of life," to which we are all more 

 or less bound by circumstances? 



It seems to me that no gift can equal 

 the boon of motherhood, if one can only 

 keep the treasures loaned, even but for 

 a little time. It is better than to count 

 eight grass-grown graves, and know that 

 the little footsteps will never, never gath- 

 er round the cheerful fireside. To know 

 that ones hair is getting thin and gray — 

 that one's eyes are getting blinded. Soon 

 there will be no more glad songs filling 

 the home with their echoes; no willing, 

 busy feet, waiting willingly our every 

 call; no sweet voice calling, "Mama, 

 see here," and "Mama, see there," as 

 the pleasant things of home life come 

 and go. Shall we then sit down and in 

 weariness wait? No. The wounded, 

 bleeding mother heart must shut away 

 its pain, work cheerfnllj' on until the 

 harvest is finished and the gleaners called 

 home. 



We cannot quit without asking the 

 usual number of questions, and some- 

 times they don't get answered, too! Is 

 it really cheating to make everybody be- 

 lieve that we're the happiest woman 

 alive? To fill our home with books, mu- 

 sic, flowers and song? To make it a 

 place of glad welcome to all who enter 

 its blessed portals? Though sometimes 

 chidings must be given, if a mind is 

 found to be uncultivated, or pernicious 

 habits are being formed. It must not be 

 cheating to make others happy, though 

 one's own heart is bursting with cruel 

 disappointment, and it certainly brings a 

 comfort that brooding never could. 



The next question is 



ABOUT MT ROSES. 



For two years they have been \-isited 

 with two fearful plagues. The first and 

 worst are little beetles, with gauzy wings 

 folded under their brick-red backs, with 

 which they fly; the head, legs and bill are 

 jet black. The beetles bore into the 

 buds, and they wither and fall ofl". We 

 have tried many things, but nothing 

 works satisfactorily except the hands 

 and very carefully, too, for at the least 

 noise the beetles turn over on their 

 backs and slide oS", and they are not to 

 be found, even by diligent search. The 

 other trouble is something like fungus, 

 that draws up the leaves, blasts the buds, 

 and though the plant lives, it is no longer 

 a "thing of beauty." Wo like roses so 

 very much, and have had to work so 

 hard for them, that we cannot willingly 

 give them up without at least one more 

 efl'ort to save them. We have three va- 

 rieties of 



FLECE DE LIS, 



Blue, purple, and buff. This year, for 

 the first time, they have been infested 

 with a long black beetle that ate buds 

 and flowers alike. The beetles looked 

 very much like what the children called 

 snapping bugs, in the days when we 

 were young. Big or little bugs are dis- 

 agreeable, at least in one's flowers. Is 

 there not some way to get rid of them? 

 Are 



ASPABAGUS PLANTS 



Advertised for sale in California? We 

 have looked long and carefully and found 

 none. M'e dug a large bed, trenching 

 two and a half feet deep, filling in with 



well made compost, and lots of salt, ac- 

 cording to Burr's work on "Field and 

 Garden Vegetables," and sent East for 

 plants. They came all right, and were 

 nice looking. They were planted, but 

 only a few came up. We would like to 

 know where we could get a few of "Con- 

 over's Colossal" plants to fill out the 

 bed with. Of all nice things in a kitch- 

 en garden, asparagus is the crowning 

 glory. It takes a good while to get it 

 started, but when once done it comes so 

 early, does not mind the cold weather, 

 and grows so much food on a little piece 

 of ground. It is good in every way it 

 can be cooked — never tried it raw — but 

 our favorite dish is to cut the shoots or 

 tender part into little pieces, and boil 

 until thoroughly cooked, then thicken 

 with a little flour, season with salt, but- 

 ter . and pepper, and turn on nicely 

 browned toast. " It is good." 



GRANDFATHER'S 



NO. 10. 



LETTERS— 



Events of the Last Century. 



rSGLfWOOD'S LAST LETTEB BEFOBE MAB- 

 BIAOE. 



To Aunt Mary, Ma, and Angie : — Now 

 that you have opened a correspondence, 

 and coincide with me in thinking it bet- 

 ter, in some cases, to give expression to 

 our sentiments by writing than viva voce, 

 I have the assurance this will be kindly 

 received. From our interviews I have 

 heard that the trio. Aunt Mary, dear Ma, 

 and the darling Angie, are all in favor of 

 matrimony, provided it be well and suit- 

 ably accomplished; exactly the senti- 

 ments of Inglewood. So pray allow his 

 name to be added to the list, and may it 

 ever be a happy quartette. Angle's ob- 

 jections I do not wonder at. Thank Ma 

 for coming to my assistance. She knew 

 how time passes, what a long period five 

 years seems while yet in our teens, what 

 a short when we get into the busy, active 

 scenes of middle life. Though no ad- 

 vocate for the disparity of ages, how 

 often in our passags through life does 

 our choice lie between two evils; or, 

 raiher, between two things, neither so 

 good as might be wished. Were it in 

 my power to bring to Angie what I now 

 have to oftVr, and in addition, j ears only 

 equal to or n little over her own, how 

 gladly would I do it. But as my age is 

 twice hers that is impossible, and I must 

 look, and ask the darling Angie to look 

 with me, over the case as it is. The ad- 

 vantages of this seniority are in having 

 this home and homestead, with its ap- 

 purtennccs, free of debt, which I could 

 not have had at an earlier period. It has 

 cost years of toil and self denial. You, 

 dearest Angie, have had opportunities of 

 knowing the habits I have formed; now 

 established by the growth of years; ex- 

 empt from the danger of relapsing into 

 evil ones. Another advantage is the 

 longer experience and greater observation 

 I can bring to our mutual advantage than 

 could have been done at an earlier pe- 

 riod. In the companionship I am seek- 

 ing, you know it is not only a wife in the 

 ordinary acceptation of that term, but 

 for a helpmeet for all the deyartments of 

 our nature; the physical and intellectual, 

 the moral and spiritual. The last two, 

 I shall be ever ready to think the su- 

 premacy rests with the feminine. The 

 two former, with the masculine. But 

 all there mnst be mutual counsel, con- 

 fidence, advice and prayer. Then with 

 the love principle ever kept aglow, you 

 will find Inglewood more thoughtful of 

 the wellfaro and happiness of the darling 

 Angie than of his own. Such, dear Ma 

 and Angie, are some more of the senti- i 

 ments of your old and true lover, 



Inglewood. 



