140 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



MakCH 



a pound of sugar a day is not sufficient for na- 

 ture's best purposes ? 



It is no trifling tax to pay fifty dollars a year 

 for sugar, in a family of little more than ordinary 

 dimensions. Yet many do it ; and many more 

 expend in this way from one-half to three-fourths 

 that sum. Why, twenty-five dollars only, or one- 

 half the maximum of this waste, would buy three 

 barrels of the best wheat flour, which would make 

 about eight hundred pounds of good bread, or 

 more than two pounds to a family daily for the 

 whole year ; or it would give twelve hundred 

 pounds of Indian meal ; or some four or five 

 pounds of Indian bread daily for the same time. 

 Is there then, in the use of what as Christian 

 economists we may justly call extra sugar, no 

 waste ? Is there no practical disregard of the in- 

 junction, "Waste not, want not? " And to people 

 who waste thus, is the discipline of hard times un- 



necessary i 



W. A. A. 



For the New England Farmer. 

 UJSTDEKDRAINIWG. 



Mr. Editor : — Enclosed is two dollars to pay 

 for the Farmer another year. I am much pleased 

 and instructed with it, because I get the experi- 

 ence of so many of my brother farmers upon ag- 

 ricultural improvements. I am glad to see the 

 subject of underdraining is beginning to be dis- 

 cussed in the Farmer. From the little imperfect 

 experience that I have had, I feel satisfied that i^ 

 will prove one of the greatest improvements that 

 can be made in New England. I think it would 

 be much better for those who have any spare in- 

 come, to spend it in underdraining than it is to 

 purchase more land. I feel satisfied that a great 

 deal of land, that is now cultivated with great 

 difficulty because it is so late in the season before 

 it can be worked upon, might by proper under- 

 draining be made to produce double the amount 

 that is now obtained ; beside having the conven- 

 ience of working upon it early in the season with- 

 out any fear of being injured by drought — for 

 land that needs underdraining, if properly plowed, 

 will seldom be afl"ected by drought. I hope to 

 see more upon this important subject from the 

 pens of those who are better acquainted with it 

 than the writer of this article. 



Thomas Haskell. 



Gloucester, Januanj 1, 1858. 



STOP IN TIME. 



Young man, you who take your glass of grog, 

 because it is fashionable, accept a friendly warn 

 ing of your danger and stop in time. The custom 

 is fraught with danger, and so sure as you persist 

 in it, so sure will you become a slave to the bottle 

 You may think there is no danger of this — that 

 you are so strong within yourself that you can 

 stop at any point upon the road to ruin and re 

 trace your steps with ease. Deluded man, you 

 may see your error when it is too late ; for there 

 is a point upon the dangerous road from beyond 

 which few have ever returned, and these few have 

 performed the feat with almost superhuman strug- 

 gles. You can break the habit noio — its fetters 

 are not rivetted as yet, and now is the time to 

 break loose from a custom which will inevitably 

 ruin you if you persist in its jiractice. You are 



strong enough now to stop, and you peril your 

 life and your soul by risking the gathering dan- 

 ger any longer. Your helpless weakness will 

 come upon you in an hour when you least expect 

 it. You will be in the midst of a debauching 

 revel, and then gaunt danger will suddenly stand 

 out before you, and you will then feel your help- 

 lessness and want of power to grapple with a 

 curse the most afflictive that ever scourged hu- 

 manity. Stop in time. — Spirit of the Age. 



THE PREACHING OF THE TREES. 



At midnight hour, when silence reigns, 



Through all the woodland spaces, 

 Begin the bushes and the trees 

 To wave and whisper in the breeze, 

 All talking in their places. 



The Rose-bush flames with looks of joy. 



And perfume breathes in glowing ; 

 "A Rose's life is quickly past ! 

 Then let me while my time shall last, 



Be richly, gaily blowing!" 



The Aspen whispers, "Sunken day ! 



Not me thy glare deceiyeth ! 

 Thy sunbeam is a deadly dart. 

 That quivers in the Rose's heart — 



My shuddering soul it grieveth !" 



The slender Poplar speaks and seems 



To stretch her green hands higher ; 

 "Up yonder life's pure river flows. 

 So sweetly murmurs, brightly glows. 



To that I still aspire !" 



The Willow looks to earth and speaks : 



"My arm to fold thee yeameth ; 

 I let my hair float down to thee ; 

 Entwine therein thy flowers for me ; 



As mother, child adometb !" 



And next the wealthy Plum tree sighs : 



"Alas ! my treasure crush me ! 

 This load with which my shoulders groan 

 Take off— it is not mine alone. 



By robbing, you refresh me !" 



The Fir tree speaks in cheerful mood : 



"A blossom bore I never ; 

 But steadfastness is all my store ; 

 In Summer's heat, in Winter's roar, 



I keep my green forever !" 



The proud and lofty Oak tree sxjeaks : 



"God's thunderbolt confounds me ! 

 And yet no storm can bow me down. 

 Strength is ray stem and strength my crown ; 



Ye weak ones, gather round me !" 



The Ivy vine kept close to him, 



Her tendrils round him flinging; 

 "He who no strength has of his own, 

 Or loves not well to stand alone, 



May to a fnend be clinging." 



Much else, not half forgot, they said ; 



And still to me came creeping. 

 Low-whispered words, upon the air, 

 While by the grave alone stood there 



The Cypress mutely weeping. 



O ! might they reach one human heart, 



These tender accents creeping ! 

 What wonder if they do not teach ? 

 The trees by starlight only preach, 



When we must needs be sleeping. 



Tennessee Farmer and Mechumc- 



