78 



Dialosrtie be/ween a Father and Son. 



Vol. IV. 



We have now described the elementary 

 species ot" the live or hedge fence, which is 

 the base or foundation of all the others. 

 There are also compouiid fences, the princi- 

 pal and most efficient of which is the stone 

 wall and live fence combined. But as it is 

 not likely to be of much practical service, the 

 description is omitted, as well as the descrip- 

 tion of paliniTS and ornamental fences. 



^ ° J. M. 



For the Farmers' Cabinet. 

 Dialogue 'bet-weeii a Father and Son> 



PART I. 

 Supposed Conversation between a Provident 

 and Improvident Farmer, and their re- 

 spective crops and stocks, ^c. 

 Frank. — Father, which is the most profita- 

 ble breed of sheep for the farmer ! I should 

 suppose the largest, as a sheep is a sheep you 

 know, and a lai'ge one is of more value tlian a 

 small one. 



Father. — A prudent man will advise with 

 his land on tiiat subject. 



Frank. — But can his land advise with him ? 

 Father. — Yes, and the lessons wiiich a 

 farmer is taugiit by his land, are not soon for- 

 gotten, as, according to the old adage, ''bought 

 wit is best." I sometimes fancy that my crops 

 converse with me, when I visit them of an 

 evening, and if 1 could do justice to those 

 fancied dialogues which 1 seem to hear, and 

 could commit tliem to paper, they would, 1 

 think, make a pleasant addition to your book. 

 Frank. — O, do try, '■'nothing is impossible 

 to a xoiUing mind,''' you know. 



Father. — Most opportunely quoted the text 

 — now for the sermon. 



We will suppose then, that a slovenly pro- 

 crastinator is visiting his fields on just such 

 a glorious evening as the present, in just such 

 a fruitful season as we are now blest with. — 

 He goes up to the field, No. 1, wJiich is 

 wheat, and begins — I 



Grabh. — Good evening ; fine weather this : 

 but I don't think you look quite so well as you 

 did the last time I visited you. 



Wheat. — I wonder how I should — do you 

 not see how I am choked with weeds 1 how 

 the thistles <ire goading me with their spikes, 

 and tlie rag weeds are taking the food out of 

 my mouth, while the bind weeds are dragging 

 me down to the earth; and how tliat I am 

 ■sinothered with evils innumerable? 



Grab!). — But I allowed you a fallow and 

 plenty of manure; you ought at least to have 

 b£;en able to cope with the weeds. 



Wheat. — You forget that " the earth is own 

 mother to the weeds, while she is only mo- 

 ther-in-law to the crops that are planted in 

 her bosom:" besides, you talk of a fallow — 

 vvliy this great thistle on my right, and which 



has one of his spikes fixed in my side, has 

 just informed me that he is one of the progeny 

 which was reared in this same fallow of 

 yours, — his parent being the identical thistle 

 under which the farmer sat on horseback and 

 escaped a drenching, while his neighbors were 

 wet to the skin ! You seem to have forgotten 

 that "one year's seeding is seven years' weed- 

 ing." 



Grabb. — Ah well ! I'll get these weeds 

 pulled. 



Wheat. — As you said a month ago, and 

 will say again, and never do it ! 



Frank. — Excellent ! But you never fallov/ 

 or dung for wheat. 



Father. — Nor have I ever such fine this- 

 tles. I always dung for green crops, and in- 

 sure two things at the same time — more food 

 tor the cattle, and of course, larger dunghills. 

 My object is, to retard the growth of the 

 wheat, that it might be strong in the stalk, 

 and I therefore do not encourage its lavish 

 growth by manure and fallow. Now for No. 2 



2. Corn. Grabb. — Why you look very 

 sickly ; I thought you would do better, judg- 

 ing from the appearance you put on at first 

 coming up — how's this! 



Corn. — Ask yourself! You thought you 

 were cheating me, when you sowed without 

 manure — a favor you always promised me ; I 

 relied upon that promise and came up, with 

 the expectation that 1 should find it when \ 

 needed it; but after sending my roots below 

 in search for it, \ find your promises are false 

 — you complain of my sickly look ! I can 

 only say, if you had no more to feed upon than 

 I have, you would not have shelled the three 

 lower buttons on your waistcoat ! Grabb 

 tucked the shucks into the holes, and walked 

 on. 



Frank. — I now find that crops can advise, 

 and admonish too: but could not the farmer 

 still do something in the way of top dressing 

 to remedy a part of the evil ? 



Father. — Yes; but he had no manure. 



3. Barley. Grabb. — Ah ! you'll come to 

 nothing. 



Barley. — I thank you, and return the com- 

 pliment. But what did you expect when you 

 sowed me after once ploughing, on a stitf and 

 wet soil ? " Nothing venture, nothing have." 

 I only wish that ijou had to work so hard as I 

 have for a living. You would then feel forme. 



4. Oats. Grabb. — Well, I think you might 

 do a little better than you do, if you would 

 try; why, I shall not get the value of the seed 

 back — that's too bad ! 



Oats. — Now, that's thrice bad of you ! — 

 You know that you have had six grain crops 

 in succession from the land on which I am 

 sown, with not a spadeful of manure of any 

 kind for the last six years'! Why, even tiie 

 weeds have been starved out, and you have 



