18.58. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



343 



A WORD FOR THE BOYS. 



"No, father, I don't want sandy ridge, nothing 

 grows there l)ut sorrel." 



"That's good enough for you, boy. You'll only 

 waste your time and raise nothing, if you had the 

 Ijest of the farm. You may as well take a hard 

 piece to begin with as anything else. I don't 

 know about this plan that you boys have of farm- 

 ing for yourselves, and having the profits ; I rath- 

 er think it won't amount to much, after all." 



"I don't think it will either, if we have nothing 

 but sand to plant our seed in. The other boys 

 are going to have a few rods of the right kind of 

 land, and will raise good crops. If I can't have 

 anything but sandy ridge, I don't want any. Har- 

 ry Grey is going to have one side of his father's 

 vegetable garden. The hired man will spade it 

 for him and show him how to plant his potatoes, 

 and all that he raises will be his, to do just what 

 he pleases with. This is the way the other boys 

 are going to do. We have agreed to sell what 

 we raise and put the money in the missionary 

 box." 



"A poor piece of speculation. But I'll see 

 about it, boy. You go about your work now, — 

 there's plenty to be done, and you won't have 

 any time for boy's plans or plays — you keep 

 steady about it, and if the crops come in well, 

 perhaps you'll get something extra." 



The boy went to his work, but with tears and 

 a heavy heart. "It is always just so," he said to 

 the hired man, "I never can do anything I want 

 to. It is so strange my father won't let me have 

 a decent piece of land, when he has more tlian he 

 knows what to do with. I won't work here all 

 my life time, I know. He thinks I'm going to be 

 a farmer, but he'll find himself mistaken." 



Why not, Mr. Farmer, let your son choose a 

 piece of land for himself, when you have enough 

 and to spare ? It would yield you compound in- 

 terest in a few years. If you wish to bind him to 

 the farm, first tie his heart, — and no better w?y 

 can be found than to consult his wishes, and to 

 give him your sympathies when so simple a re- 

 quest is made as to try his skill at a little inde- 

 pendent farming. What if he should fail in his 

 enterprise, which is not very likely, if you give 

 him the aid that you ought, the time is not whol- 

 ly lost. It will excite him to more diligence, 

 and hf will perform twice the labor for you that 

 he would had you refused him. It will not be 

 enough to give him the use of the land, manifest- 

 ing no further interest in the matter. But tell 

 him how to dress it — what kind of grain or roots 

 will be best adapted to the soil — how to sow or 

 plant, — and then occasionally give him a word of | 

 encouragement, should he find his labors more 

 than he anticipated. He may, boy-like, leave his 

 work for play, but don't chide him harshly for it, 

 remember ng the old saying, that "all work and 

 no play makes Jack a dull boy." Give him time 

 for recreation, and work for you will become no 

 drudgery. 



By interesting yourself a little in the boy's 

 plans, you will gain his confidence, and cheerful 

 obedience, making home so pleasant that he will 

 never distress you by roaming for forbidden pleas- 

 ures, or by fastening himself to associates that 

 would work his ruin. If you, then, value the 

 boy's happiness or your own, do not coldly re- 

 pulse him, when he comes to you with what may 



seem a childish request. For the time, it involves 

 as important consequences to him, as any of your 

 own plans which have grown out of matured ex- 

 perience. The disappointment to him would be 

 as great as it would be to yourself to fail in some 

 enterprise v.'hich had long occupied your thonghts. 

 If you keep your boy's heart, he will more than 

 requite you in future years, when the toils and 

 cares of life have become a burden, and you feel 

 that you must lean somewhere, — then he will 

 support you — brightening the decline of life, 

 steadying your faltering steps with the same pa- 

 tient care with which you have guided him 

 through the capricious years of boyhood. — Port- 

 land Transcript. 



Early Closing Movement. — All the agricul- 

 tural houses in this city have agreed to close 

 their stores at 4 o'clock on Saturday afternoons 

 during the summer months. The New England 

 Farmer oflUce will also close at that hour on Sat- 

 urdays through the summer. 



BOYS' DEPARTMENT. 



POP CORN. 



I will tell you, dear young readers of Mr. Mer- 

 ry, something about pop corn, that I am sure 

 will surprise you. 



I know that you have often paraded a saucer 

 or small dish of the said luxury, asking mother 

 and sisters, "Take some, please," while your face 

 was painfully glowing, almost parched like your 

 corn. I will tell you of a place where it is made 

 a business, or trade. A building is appropriated 

 to it ; and six or eight persons do the work. An 

 immense wire box is suspended over a furnace, 

 and when half a bushel of corn is popping at one 

 time, you may think there is a beautiful uproar 

 — the maize, which is another name for Indian 

 corn, flies about like mad. Twenty bushels 

 bursts or pops into 240 bushels — increasing 

 twelve-fold. They pop, and sell, in good seasons, 

 some 240 or 250 bushels weekly. Think of that, 

 boys and girls. Five hundred of the balls, which 

 you see and taste so often, fill a barrel. Twenty- 

 seven barrels are prepared in a day. Sometimes 

 they receive orders for sixty bushels by one house 

 at a distance. The bin or box, in which it is first 

 placed, holds sixty bushels. It is a fine sight, 

 too, for every kernel is perfect as a flower. A 

 great sieve passes out all which are under size 

 or imperfect. These go to the chickens by th^ 

 barrel. 



Often three barrels of sugar are used weekly, 

 for the coating of the balls. This is a regularly 

 made candy, which is poured hot upon the popped 

 corn. At this place, Merriam's, Franklin Street, 

 Brooklyn, they use refined sugar, and the pink 

 coloring is harmless. As I looked upon the corn, 

 or maize, I remembered that — 



The life of Sir John Barleycorn 



Was long since sung by Burns — 

 To sing of Brother .'onathan Maize, 



My muBe with ardor turns. 



His early life was watched with care, 



And guarded every hour ; 

 One ministered to every need, 



From sprouting into flower. 



