NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



Jan. 



new year, mother." Bless thoise innocent lips, 

 both father and mother, for they at least are sin- 

 cere in their wish ; but not the prattler alone — ■ 

 from the bosoms of the hale and hearty boys and 

 the beautiful, rosy-cheeked girls, as they first 

 meet their loved parents on that new morn, the 

 words rise up almost spontaneously, as if they 

 were the bursting of the deep-sown seeds of af- 

 fection, and find utterance at the lips — "Father, 

 mother, I wish you a happy new year ;" and in 

 that family you may be sure there is a love that 

 shall never know decay — a love so pure and holy, 

 that when the last account shall be rendered up, 

 it shall be found on the credit side, and of not 

 less weight in the scale of eternal justice than 

 piety itself. 



The farmer enjoys that day. He blesses all 

 his household ; he looks about his premises and 

 sees whether every thing is snug and right ; he 

 looks into his books, squares up his accounts, and 

 prepares to start anew into the year that has just 

 opened. God prosper him ! 



But we have to do not only with the first day 

 of the year, but with the first month of the year 

 cold, blustering, persevering, happy, welcome Jan 

 uary ! The healthiest month, probably, of all the 

 year. It is, more emphatically than any other, the 

 farmer's jubilee. Up to late in December he has 

 been busily engaged in the "fall work ;" now it 

 is all done. The harvest has been gathered in,— 

 the garners and the cellars are full,— seed-time 

 and harvest have not failed, and man and beast 

 are amply provided for. It is the time for study, 

 for reflection, for consultation with friends, for 

 joyous evening assemblages, for singing in full 

 chorus to the good old tune, "Winter" — 



"His hoary frost, his fleecy snow, 

 Descend and clothe the ground ; 

 The liquid streams forbear to flow, 

 In icy fetters bound." 



It is the time "to clothe the naked, to feed the 

 hungry, and to bind up the wounds of the bro 

 ken-hearted." It is the time to be happy your- 

 self and make all happy about you ! 



But while the thrifty farmer and his happy 

 family are enjoying the warm fireside and the 

 luxuries of the cellar inside the house, are those 

 dumb helpers outside, without whose aid the far- 

 mer could do but little, cared for? That they 

 are ! A good farmer would sooner sufi"er himself, 

 than have his cattle suff'er. 



AVe will just step into the barn, Avith our 

 friend, the farmer, and see for ourselves how 

 matters are. Well, there stands "Jim," a large, 

 well-proportioned bay, sixteen hands high, weigh- 

 ing well on to 1300 pounds, eyes as bright as a 

 new dollar, legs clean and smooth, body well 

 blanketed, in his clean wide stall, and as his mas 

 t^r approaches, if ever a horse laughed he does i 



He knows who his master is as well as we do. 

 Our friend walks into the stall, pats "Jim" on 

 his proudly arched and glossy neck, and see how 

 afi"ectionately that neck comes round, and the 

 head of the horse rubs against the shoulder of 

 the owner, as much as to say,— -"thank you, mas- 

 ter, for taking such good care of me. I know 

 what gratitude is." We pass on, pronouncing 

 'Jim" a trump and nothing else, 



A large row of heads present themselves loose- 

 ly fastened between the stanchions, or more free- 

 ly still, by chains or straps, and as we approach 

 they rise, and two clear round eyes from each 

 look wistfully at us, and sure enough, there we 

 think we see old "Swan," the upper ox of the 

 entire ranks, give a squint down the line of 

 heads, as much as to say, "right, dress!" and*wink 

 one eye, indicating to the others, "there's our 

 master, receive him with proper respect, for no 

 cattle in this world have a better." 



We always did believe most faithfully in Scrip- 

 ture, but do not think we ever had a passage so 

 tellingly brought to our recollection, as old 

 "Swan's" look brought this : "The ox knoweth his 

 owner and the ass his master's crib." 



How slick and smooth and nice they all kok, 

 and so happy and contented. And even that old 

 fellow over there, separate and apart from all the 

 rest, with a ring in his nose, does not appear 

 half so much like those "bulls of Bashan," that 

 compasseth the unhappy Psalmist, "as a raving 

 and a roaring lion," as we have seen bulls. In- 

 deed, he seemed to be in quite an affectionate 

 and agreeable mood. 



Our farmer's cattle are indeed well cared for, 

 and as happy, apparently, as cattle ought to be. 



January is the great starting point of the year ; 

 like the diurnal meridian to the mariner, it is the 

 annual meridian to the farmer, when he works 

 up his reckoning, and whence he takes a new de- 

 parture. 



May this present January be such a starting 

 point to every reader of the Farmer, that he may 

 look back upon it with the same pleasure that 

 one looks to the commencement of a prosperous 

 voyage, when the destined port has been reach- 

 ed. 



May sunny skies and fertile showers and gen- 

 tle gales surround him, and clustering affections 

 and all the sweet sympathies of life crown his 

 circles with domestic bliss. 



GRINDING FEED. 



Experimental farmers have long urged the im- 

 portance, and even necessity, of chopping or 

 grinding hay, as well as other feed, for cattle 

 and horses. The lazy drones have had a hearty 

 laugh over the idea, and called it "Book Farm- 

 ing." 



