No. 4. 



Dialogue he t ween a Father and Son. 



113 



tried by the old gentleman we saw th^re was 

 no mistake — that at least in certain spots or 

 places there was invariably an involuntary 

 depression of the point of the fork, and by 

 \videning- the circle round the pump, we felt 

 satisfied that we could indicate the course of 

 the stream that supplied the well. We 

 v\ished to know why it did not act in the 

 hands of all persons alike, and found by re- 

 peated trials of different persons, that where 

 the skin of hands was dry all was inert — that 

 it only operated where there was a moist skin. 

 Another fact was ascertained by our repeated 

 trials at different times — that in proportion as 

 the atmosphere was charg-ed with moisture, 

 the indications were weakened. These facts 

 led us at once to conclude that electricity was 

 the agent. 



The rod must be made of a forked twig of 

 the present season's growth — that is, must be 

 foil of sap. The end where the two branches 

 meet must be sharpened to a point. 



Tell Mrs. Jenkinson, that the " leads" they 

 use for creaming milk iii England, will not 

 answer in this climate — they are very unsuit- 

 ble for a spring house. I have one made on 

 the best and most approved plan, sent me by 

 a kind friend, and have tried it in a vault, and 

 find that it does not answer as well as our 

 earthen pans. Persons who use tin pans in- 

 stead of earthen, speak well of them. I fear 

 the women will have to hold on to their skim- 

 mers. D. Z. 



For the Farmers' Cabinet. 

 Dialogue lietwceu a Fatlier and Son« 



Frank. — Father, I see no Garden at all to 

 be compared in beauty and pleasure with ours. 

 The shrubbery appears so large, and the walks 

 so long, although we know that the space 

 which it occupies is but small : this must be 

 occasioned by their winding course, so unlike 

 all our neighbors' plans for laying out their 

 gardens. 



Father. — You see that the walks in the 

 shrubbery are what is called serpentine; it 

 has been decided that " a curve is the line of 

 beauty," and that, therefore, "nature," which 

 is all beauty, " abhors a sti-aight line." Now, 

 in this, persons have been apt to overstep the 

 bounds of moderation, and it is at length 

 supposed, that walks for pleasure, cannot be 

 made too crooked — they are mere snail 

 creeps, and instead of the swell vf nature, 

 we have the zig-zag of some clever man's 

 brains. Do you know that the human figure 

 can be drawn by taking segments of circles 

 only, which mean, curved lines — so that not 

 a straight line shall be followed in tracing it ! 



Frank. — No indeed ! 



Father. — You see, then, the justness of the 

 expression, " The curve of nature," — but 



this gentle swell is very unlike the very 

 crooked walks that are now so fashionable. 



Frank. — I have heard also, that " nature 

 abhors a vacuum," but I do not know the 

 meaning of this. 



Father. — A vacuum means an empty space 

 — and some persons, seeing that all nature is 

 full and perfect, could account, in no other 

 way, for the rising of the water in a pump, 

 when a portion had been drawn up, and an 

 empty space or vacuum had thereby been 

 caused in the pipe, and into which tlie water 

 would instantly rush to supply it : but it is the 

 jiressure of the atmosphere upon the surface 

 of the water in the well v/hicli forces it into 

 the empty space, on the unerring principle, 

 that every thing in nature will find its level. 



Frank. — Now 1 wish to know more about 

 the pressure of the atmosphere. I hear it 

 often mentioned, but should like to understand 

 it. 



Father. — It is by means of the air pump, 

 that persons have been enabled fully to under- 

 stand the subject : this is a beautiful but ex- 

 pensive instrument, by which the air is 

 ]3umped from under a bell-shaped glass, turned 

 down on its mouth, just as though it were 

 water: you know that water is a fluid — so 

 also is air discovered to be. But we will en- 

 deavor to make a very simple loaler pump in 

 about a minute — do you see this glass tube ? 

 I will show you by this, the way in which the 

 pressure of the atmosphere operates. Now, 

 I stop the upper end of the tube, and put the 

 lower end into this pail of water. 



Frank. — Why, the water has not risen into 

 the tube, it remams empty. 



Father. — The tube is already full of air, 

 and it cannot escape, because I keep my thumb 

 on the end of it. I will now unclose it, and 

 see what will be the result. 



Frank. — The water rises in the tube, and 

 is now just so high as the water in the pail. 



Father. — Yes — as soon as the air could es- 

 cape, the water flowed in to supply its 

 place, and has attained its level — this, as I 

 said, is the law of nature, and is unerring. — 

 Now then we will suppose tliistube to be the 

 pipe of a pump; if we draw the air from the 

 top of this pipe, there will be a vacuum formed, 

 and the air, pressing on the water in the pail, 

 will force it into the pipe to supply it in an 

 instant. See !l will draw off the air by 

 sucking it out. 



Frank. — Ah ! there it rises — but is not this 

 sucking up the water? 



Father. — To appearance it is, but it is 

 merely drawing off the air which permits the 

 water to rise ; and this could easily be proved 

 to be the true state of the case if this tube 

 were thirty-two feet high ; for with all our 

 sucking, it would not be possible to raise the 

 water to a greater height than that ; no com- 



