MY FARM OF EDGEWOOD 



of interested auditors, listening to a justly dis- 

 tinguished pomologist, who, in the course of 

 his peroration in praise of scientific study, sug- 

 gested the great advantage of analyzing all 

 the different pears, and the different soils under 

 culture, so that they might be minutely ad- 

 justed each to each. Of course the worthy 

 old gentleman never did such a thing; and (be- 

 ing a shrewd man) never means to. Yet it 

 seems not a very bad thing— to say. The lesser 

 pomologists all wagged their heads approv- 

 ingly, but without any serious thought of fol- 

 lowing the advice ; the embryo chemists fairly 

 gushed over in approval; and the only doubt 

 expressed, was in the faces of certain earnest, 

 honest, old farmers, — who had already paid 

 their twenty-five dollars for a soil analysis, to the 

 eminent Professor Mapes, — and of one or two 

 scientific adepts, who, I thoiight, gave a twirl 

 to their tongues in the left cheek, — rather 

 evasively. In general, I find that the most 

 modest opinions in regard to the agricultural 

 aids of applied science, come from the men of 

 most distinguished scientific attainment; and 

 the exaggerated promises and suggestions flow 

 from those who are slightly indoctrinated, and 

 who make up by uproar of words, and aggre- 

 gation of pretentious claims, for the quiet con- 



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