1S5C. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



435 



What is wealth to the invalid but a bitter mock- 

 ery which can yield no happiness. Then prize the 

 rich boon of health, ye v.ho possess it, and lift your 

 hearts in gratitude to God, even though your lot 

 may be one of poverty and toil. 



For (If Nerp England Fanner. 



EOY/ MUCH EDTJCATIOH "f OS THE 

 FARMEE ? 



Sib, — 'Tis true that they sent me to college 



Anil thniiuht there was in it no harm, 

 For they thoir^lit that a li.lle more Unowledge 



Could not injure my work on the farm. 



They saitl, but few would not say it, 



Tliat culture, expansion of brain, 

 Mipht assist, and perhaps would repay it. 



But most surely not injure the grain. 



And is there in tones of the matin. 



In chemistry, angles, the cone. 

 Or in botany, Greek or the Latin, 



Any milk that will nurture a drone ? 



I went, and I labored with pleasure. 



For culture of mind and of soul ; 

 I returned, and am seeking the treasure 



For to clothe and to nourish 7)iy whole. 



How changed is the home of my childhood, 



No shade trees, nor tlowers nor lawn. 

 Nor stream with its grove and its wild-wood. 



And the joy of my heart, she is gone. 



I long for a farm which has beauty 



In nature, improvements in stock, 

 And a wife in the house, in whose duty 



There is ^lappiness, soug, and good luck. 



What course with a boy would you follow .' 



Keep him on the farm or at school. 

 Run the risk of a fool for a scholar. 



Or a farmer in spite of a fool ? X. Z. 



P. S. — If she to my hopes is no sinner, 



Whenever you come into town, 

 You are welcome to call for a dinner. 



If your answer's "the pure Simon Brown." 



I have prefaced my query somewhat at length, in 

 hopes to draw out from some one the true ideal of 

 n model farmer's home, as well as what kind, and 

 how much education a farmer should have. Small 

 potatoes, muck, the habits of animals, Sec, are all 

 very interesting ; but is the development of the true 

 wants of our natures, and how we may best satisfy 

 those wants, of less importance, when our true hap- 

 piness consists only in supplying those wants ? But 

 if the all-powerful dollar is to take precedence, 

 then will the subject, as heretofore, be discussed by 

 the fireside, in angry debate, over a few pennies, 

 for some trifling luxury. The idea of a gentleman 

 farmer or a farmer's daughter at a boarding-school, 

 lias been ridiculed. Perhaps some one can make 

 it appear, that the farmer's vocation is not incon- 

 HStent with true education, refinement in taste andj 

 feeling, — that the tones of the piano and the splash j 

 of the churn may be made to harmonize, and a' 

 singing as well as a scolding wi."e can make the 

 butter come. Let him who has the idea, write. 



JVare, Mass., July, 1856. 



Remarks. — Write yourself. You have touched 

 the right vStrings, — give us more chords. 



tt^' Col. Daxiel Needuam will deliver the an- 

 nual address before the JVindsor Countij Jlgrkul- 

 lural Socidy, at Woodstock, Vermont, September 

 25th. 



Fur the Neu> England Farmer. 



HAY TIME. 



The busiest time in the year. The time when 

 there is not a moment to lose. The days are the 

 longest in the year, but they are not quite long 

 enough. There arc no other days when men, and 

 women too, rise so e?.rly and so willingly, when 

 all go to their labor so cheerfully. The labor 

 of the early morning, when the mower, with stal- 

 wart arm and newly-ground scythe, lays the sweet- 

 scented and dew-loaded gra^s in straight and even 

 swaths, is the pleasantest labor of the day. Be- 

 fore the beams of the rising sun shoot across 

 the green meadow, he is at his work. The glit- 

 tering dew-drops sparkle in the first ravs of the 

 morning, as they scatter before his keen and steady 

 stroke. The music of his rifle rings clear in the 

 still morning. The air is balmy and bracing. The 

 blackbird and boboHnk are whistling by the side of 

 the meadow. The redbreast, perched upon the 

 top of a distant tree, is pouring forth his full, clear 

 notes, and all nature seems just waking into new life. 

 But hark ! the housewife has been busy at her 

 task, and the shrill horn summons the mowers to 

 their morning meal. The fragrant coffee, the 

 golden Johnny cake, the sweet butter, the substan- 

 tial bacon or cold beef, and then to wind off", a plate 

 of muffins or a milk-toast, constitute the morning 

 repast. The mower's breakfast is no light affliir. 

 For two hours he has been using his full strength. 

 His muscles have had free play. He has drawn 

 without stint, upon the powers of his system, and 

 now he must have a new supply of that which is 

 to give him strength for the remaining labors of 

 the day. Breakfast over, he returns to the field, 

 and is soon followed by the boys, who, with fork in 

 hand, scatter the swaths evenly over the surface of 

 the meadow. Ten o'clock has now arrived, and 

 the dew has dried up. The hay that v.as out the 

 day before and left in the cock, must be spread. 

 So the scythe is hung on a tree, and the mowing 

 for the morning is over. The haymaker seizes his 

 fork, and shakes out the cocks of hay, laying it up 

 lightly to the sun and air. Having completed this, 

 he is ready for the luncheon which his careful wife 

 has sent him, and taking his seat upon the ground 

 under the shade of the tree upon which his scythe 

 is hung, he uncovers the basket, and calling the 

 boys, they partake of the coffee, and doughnuts 

 and cheese, and apple-pie, with which it is filled. 



Now, boys, we must turn the hay. Shake it well 

 up to th(^ sun, for we must get it into the barn im- 

 mediately after dinner. When this is all nicely 

 done, they shake up again the thickest of the swaths, 

 which were cut in the morning. And now the sun 

 has reached the meridian, and the youngest boy 

 goes to the pasture for the oxen, and the eldest, 

 taking the scythe from the tree, goes to the house 

 with his father. Dinner is nearly ready, but there 

 is no time to be lost. So while they are waiting 

 for dinner to be put on the table, and the boy to 

 come from the ])asture with the oxen, they take a 

 pail of water and go to the grindstone, and put a 

 new edge upon the scythe, that it may be ready 

 for use when it is wanted. Now dinner is ready, 

 and they take their seats at the well-spread table, 

 with a])petites none the worse for the luncheon in 

 the field. 



Haymakers do not live to eat, but they eat to 

 live and work, and they do both with a Iiearty 



