536 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



Nov. 



COUNTRY SPORTS. 



Among all the grateful gifts of summer, none, I 

 think, has been deeper and more various, than the 

 sight of the enjoyment of the children. I do pity 

 children in a city. There is no place for them— 

 the streets are full of bad boys, that they must not 

 play with, and the house, of furniture that they 

 must not touch. They are alwaj's in some body's 

 way, or making a noise out of proper time — for the 

 twenty-fifth hour of the day is the only time when 

 people think children should be noisy. There is 

 no grass for their feet, no trees for cUmbing, no 

 orchards or nut-laden trees for their enterprise. 



But here has been a troop of children, of three 

 families, nine that may be called children, (without 

 offense to any sweet fifteen,) that have had the 

 simimer before them to disport themselves as they 

 chose. There are no ugly boys to be watched, no 

 dangerous places to fall from, no bulls or wicked 

 hippogriffs to chase them. They are up and fledged 

 by breakfast, and then they are off in uncircum- 

 scribed liberty till dinner. They may go to the bam 

 or to either of three orchards, or to either of two 

 springs, or to grandma's, (who are the very genii 

 of comfort and gingerbread to children.) They 

 can build all manner of structures in wet sand, or 

 paddle in the water, and even get their feet wet, 

 their clothes dirty, or their pantaloons torn, with- 

 out its being reckoned against them. They scuffle 

 along the road to make a dust in the world, they 

 chase the hens, hunt sly nests, build fires on the 

 rocks in the pastures, and fire off Chinese crackers 

 until they are surfeited with noise ; they can run, 

 wade, halloo, stubb their toes, lie down, climb, tum- 

 ble down, with or without hurting themselves, just 

 as much as they please. They may climb in and 

 out of wagons, sail chips in the water-trough at the 

 barn, fire apples from the sharpened end of a Um- 

 ber stick, pick up baskets full of brilliant apples in 

 competition with the hired men, proud of being 

 "almost men." Their hands, thank fortune, are 

 never clean, their faces are tanned, their hair is 

 tangled within five minutes after combing, and a 

 button is always off somewhere. The day is a cre- 

 ation especially made for children. Our Noble has 

 been at least equal to one hand and one foot extra 

 for frolic and mischief, to each of the urchins. But 

 grandest of all joy, highest in the scale of rapture, 

 the last thing talked of before sleep, and the first 

 thing remembered in the morning, is the going for 

 a-nutling. O! the hunting of little baskets, the 

 irrepressible glee, as bags and big baskets, into which 

 little ones are to disembogue, come forth ! Then the 

 departure, the father or uncle climbing the tree — 

 "O ! how high!" — the shaking of limbs, the rattle 

 of hundreds of chestnuts, which squirrels shall nev- 

 er see again, the eager picking up, the merry ohs ! 

 and ouches! as nuts come plump down on their 

 bare heads, the growing heap, the approaching din- 

 ner by the brook, on leaves yellow as gold, and in 

 sunlight yellower still, the mysterious baskets to 

 be opened, the cold chicken, the bread slices — ah ! 

 me! one would love to be tv/enty boj's, or a boy 

 twenty times over, just to experience the simple, 

 genuine, full, unalloyed pleasure of children in a 

 wood, with father and mother, "a-nuttiug!" — H. 

 W. Beecher. 



^^ A California pamphlet alleges, upon pretty 

 good evidence, that live thousand murders have 

 been committed in that country in six years. 



LADIES' DEPARTMENT. 



THE DYING WIFE TO HER HUSBAND. 



I am passing through the waters, but a blessed shore appears; 



Kneel beside me, dearest husband, let me kiss away tby tears ; 



Wrestle with thy grief as Jacob strove from midnight until day , 



It may leave an Angel's blessing when it vanishes away. 



Lay the babe upon my bosom, 'tis not long she can be there, — 



See how to my heart she nestles — 'tis the pearl I love to wear. 



If, in after years, beside thee sits another in my chair, 



Though her voice be sweeter music, and her face than mine 

 more fair ; — 



If a cherub call thee father, far more beautiful than this. 



Love thy first-born, my husband, turn not from the mother- 

 less. 



Tell her sometimes of her mother — you may call her Anna 

 Jane — 



Shield from her the winds of sorrow — if she errs, O, gently 

 blame ; 



Lead her sometimes where I'm sleeping, I will answer if she 

 calls. 



And my breath will stir her ringlets, when my voice in bless- 

 ing falls ; 



And her soft blue eye will brighten with a wonder whence it 

 came, 



In her heart, when years pass o'er her, she will find her moth- 

 er's name. 



I will be her right-hand angel, sealing up the good for Heaven, 



Striving that tlie midnight watches find no misdeed nnforgiven. 



You will not forget me, dearest, when I'm sleeping 'neath the 

 sod ; 



0, love the babe upon my bosom as I love thee — next to God. 



DOMESTIC RECEIPTS. 



To Pkeserve Herbs. — All kinds of herbs 

 should be gathered on a dry day, just- before, or 

 while in blossom. Tie them in bundles, and sus- 

 pend them in a dry, airy place, with the blossoms 

 downwards. When perfectly dry, wrap the medic- 

 inal ones in paper, and keep them from the au'. 

 Pick off the leaves of those which are to be used 

 in cooking, pound and sift them fine, and keep the 

 powder in bottles, oorked up tight. 



To Trevext Colors from Ruxning. — To pre- 

 vent the colors from running in washing muslin 

 dresses — take out all the gathers at the top of the 

 sleeves and waist, quickly wash it in warm, not hot 

 water, rinse it immediately, then roll it in a dry 

 sheet, and let it remain till just damp enough to 

 iron. 



To Raise the Pile of Velvet when Pressed 

 Do^^'X. — Cover a hot smoothing-iron with a wet 

 cloth, and hold the velvet firmly over it ; the va- 

 por arising from it will raise the pile of the velvet 

 with the assistance of a light whisk. 



To Take Rust out of Steel. — Cover the steel 

 with sweet oil well rubbed on it ; in two days use 

 unslaked lime, finely powdered, to rub until the 

 rust disappears. To take iron stains out of a 

 marble chimney-piece: mix in a bottle an equal 

 quantity of fresh spirit of vitriol and lemon juice ; 

 shake this well ; wet the spots, and, in a few min- 

 utes, rub with soft linen until they disappear. 



HAltf Toast. — Boil a quarter of a pound of lean 

 ham ; chop it small, with the yolk of three eggs 

 well beaten, half an ounce of butter, two table- 

 spoonfulls of cream, and a little cayenne. Stir it 

 over the fire till it thickens, and spread it on hot 

 toast with the crust cut off. Garnish with parsley. 



Cranberry Jelly, — Make a very strong isin- 

 glass jelly ; when cold, mix it with a double quan- 

 tity of cranberry juice, pressed and strained ; sweet- 

 en and boil it up, and make it into the desii-ed 

 shape, by straining in the proper vessels ; use good 

 white sugar, or the jelly will not be clear. 



