82 



Dialoi^ue bettmen a Father and Son. 



Vol. IV. 



Clover. — And no thanks to me, for you made 

 me what I am, by that mag-niticent covering- 

 of compost, by which I was literally buried 

 alive. If the season remains favorable, I can 

 promise you two tons of hay per acre the first 

 crop, one ton per acre the second, and a capi- 

 tal aftermath for your dairy, and if that won't 

 yield you a profit, why then quit, and go a 

 fishing ! 



6. Cows in Pasture. Si/kes. — Well, Fan- 

 ny, Kitty and Judy, what have you done with 

 Biin 



Cows. — Oh ! he lies under yonder hedge, 

 complaining it zs easier to lie down than to 

 rise, and thinks it hard to have to accompany 

 us twice to the yard w^hen we go to be milked 

 — indeed he will soon be too fat to be healthy. 



Sykes. — Well, I think you all live in clo- 

 ver, and the return which you make of ten 

 pounds of butter each per week, is a proof of 

 your gratitude for good treatment. 



Cows. — We are very happy, and the pro- 

 verb says, " without comfort you can't make 

 butter." But our happiness is owing to you? 

 excellent care of U3, especially in dividing 

 our pasture into three^ compartments, and 

 changing us often — if men were but sensible 

 of the advantage this is to the dairy, their 

 cows would not be compelled to lie in the 

 same pasture until the very atmosphere is con- 

 taminated with their filth ; the milk would 

 keep longer, and the butter would not be so 

 soil: in hot weather, to say nothing of the 

 trifling circumstance of about two pounds of 

 butter a week from each cow, in favor of your 

 plan. 



Sykes. — Well, I never heard cows talk so 

 reasonably before ! and I wish you would read 

 Grabb a lecture upon Dairying ; but unless he 

 is the merest idiot alive, he must sometimes 

 have heard and read, and felt the reproachful 

 looks and low murmurings of his poor half- 

 starved animals in the garlicky meadow be- 

 low : but he is sunk so low that it must be 

 up-hill work for him, I know. 



7. Sheep. Si/kes. — It is remarkable, that j 

 just as I had determined to dispose of my i 

 Leicesters, an 1 purchase sheep of a smaller 

 breed, more suitable for short pastures, that 

 Farmer Grabb should decide upon parting 

 with his Southdowns, on the principle, that "as 

 a sheep is a shcsep, you know, (glancing his 

 eye at Frank,) a large one must be more val- 

 uable than a small one" — (Frank.) (That's 

 a capital hit at me! I shall never forget the 

 lesson which T have been tauglit) so our ex- 

 change was no robbery. 



Sheep. — To us it was "all 'totlior way," 

 as Farmer Ashfield says, but Grabb's sheep 

 declare it was robbery, rank robbery ; i()r they 

 have been robbed of the means of existence. 



Sykes. — To me it has been advantageous, 

 and has proved the truth of the calculation on 



proportioning sheep stock to land: "The 

 same land which carried indilft-rently, forty- 

 five long wooled sheep, maintained in good 

 plight one hundred and fifty Ry lands," I am 

 therefore satisfied with the exchange. 



8. But here come the Horses. — Well, my 

 beauties ! why, where are ye going in that 

 frolicsome mood? 



Horses. — Oh, we have eaten our supper, 

 and are now going to rest in the upper pasture ; 

 we say to rest — Farmer Grabb's horses go 

 to labor, for as they get no food m the stable 

 after their day's work, they are compelled to 

 gather their supper before they eat it, and 

 hard work it is, with a bite so short : and after 

 laboring at the plough all day, and all night 

 at a short bite, 'tis no wonder that it costs 

 him more in whips than in C(3rn. We shall 

 therefore be ready by break of day for what- 

 ever you will put us to, for " with horses who 

 are kept above theu* work, tlieir labor is 

 play." 



Sykes. — Well, but take care now, and if 

 you meet Gi'abb's horses down the road, don't 

 go to play with them, for they have something 

 more serious to think of Halloo ! where did 

 that groan come from J " And yet another, 

 and another," as the man says in the play. 

 Oh ! 'tis only the hogs, v/ho have overeaten 

 themselves again ; tliis is butter-making day, 

 and they are always a little uneasy after that. 



Hogs. — And so would you be, if you had 

 swilled as much as we have ; but you men 

 have no feeling for poor dumb brutes ! 



By this time Sykes had reached his house, 

 and entered, singing the last verse of that 

 fine old song, " No glory I covet ;" it runs 

 thus — 



" How vainly throuf;h infinite struggle and strife, 

 The many their labors employ ! 

 Since all that is truly delightful in life, 

 Is what all, if they will, may enjoy." 



Sykes. — Well, wife, your elegant supper 

 table looks very inviting ! 



Wife. — Frank, get your Father's slippers, 



Sykes. — And my b?ttermost " Bleuse,"* I 

 mean now to " rest and be thankful." And 

 Frank, .after supper, and while your mother 

 and sister are " plying their needles," you 

 sliall read to us " The Yellow Shoestrings," 

 which I read when I was a boy ; and to the 

 golden rule contained in that little book, 

 "Nothing is impossihle to a willing mind," 

 I owe the chief blessing of my life, don't I, 

 wife ] 



Wife— WeU, I confess that if it had not been 

 for your perseverance, the dillicultics which 

 opposed our union would never have been 

 surmounted, and that, I guess, would have 

 been unfortunate for both of us. 



* Tlie French Frock, a most convenient andsuitab?e 

 dross for farmers. 



