288 



NEW ENGLAND FARIVIER. 



June 



member and record the methods they adopt, 

 as well as the results. One thing seems to be 

 settled already, viz : that one or two eyes in a 

 hill will yield more potatoes to the acre, and 

 those of more uniform size and quality, than 

 whole potatoes or six or eight eyt s in a hill. 

 The hills with one or two eyes may be placed 

 nearer together and thus the number of hills 

 increased and the land more fully occupied. 

 This approaches the old Irish method of culti- 

 vating potatoes in beds worked fine by the 

 spade, and the sets planted in squares of about 

 one foot. At harvest time the whole bed was 

 filled with tubers. Another thing also seems 

 to be decided by recent experience. Those 

 varieties that make their growth before the 

 summer drought are more certain to give sat- 

 isfactory results, and to escape the attacks of 

 disease. 



As the potato is %ne of our most important 

 crops, its culUkre deserves careful study and 

 observation. 



Liquid Grafting Wax. — The following 

 will make a wax that can be put on with a 

 a brush, will always be ready for use if kept 

 tightly corked in a bottle, and can be applied 

 to bruises or wounds on trees, or used as a 

 grafting wax, viz : — Melt one pound of rosin 

 over a gentle fire ; add an ounce of beef tallow 

 and stir it well; take it from the fire, let it 

 cool down a little and add a table spoonful of 

 sprits of turpentine, and after that about seven 

 ounces of very strong alcohol (95 per cent.) 

 It will be necessary, after putting in the 

 alcohol, to put it on the stove again stir- 

 ring it constantly, taking great care that 

 the alcohol does not get enllamed. To avoid 

 this, remove the kettle from the ftove as soon 

 as the mass, which may have cooled rapidly by 

 the addition of the alcohol, begins to melt. 

 Continue to stir, until the whole mass becomes 

 the consistency of honey. This will be found 

 far better and cheaper than the common shel- 

 lac preparation used for this purpose. — Maine 

 Farmer. 



— T. S. Clough states in the Prairie Farmer, 

 that lie once brined and thus thoroughly cleansed 

 seed wheat for thirty acres. He took the small 

 and inferior grain thus abstracted, and washed 

 again. From this he sowed a very few bushels, 

 the result from which was inferior wheat in both 

 quantity and quality — all the remainder was fine, 

 free from oats and smut, and produced a large 

 yield. He then came to the conclusion that "As 

 ye sow, so shall ye also reap," and if anybody 

 persists in sowing smut and dirt, instead of good, 

 sound, plump grain, they may expect to reap ac- 

 cordingly. 



For the New England Farmer. 

 FABMUR BROWN, SOLDS. 



BY FRED D. MUZZEY. 



I vow I that's tu^sing preUy tough; whoa Buck, whoa 



Brliiht, whoa ho I 

 I guess wt'Jl stop and breathe a epell, it really seems as 



though 

 The farm grew stunnier every year, I've broke two 



p'lnts to-day. 

 I'm tempted every ppricg I plough to se'l and go away 

 Out West; but as the summer comes and the old hills 



get green, 

 And the rocks are covered up with grass and posies 



shine bitwter, 

 And everything -8 so beautiful, I change my mind, you 



see, 

 And say, '•! guess I'll keep the farm,— it's good enough 



for me." 



I'm satisfied to walk the ways my sire and grandsire 



tro.l, 

 To brs^a he the same rough mountaia air, and till the 



fame hard sod ; 

 The same Lord made the whole big earth, and He is 



everywhere, 

 It aint EO malttr where I be, he has me in his care. 

 Some say we should give up the world with all its 



hopes and fears, 

 That 'lis at best a dreary place of sighing and of tears. 

 But Jesus thought 'twas good enough that on the cruel 



tree 

 He died for it, and so I guess, it's good enough for me. 



And these Eame folks say God is bad, a weak and cruel* 



God, 

 That 'tis in anger not in love he lays on us the rod. 

 And now I tremble when I think that this Islmoet rried 

 Six years ago come Tuesday night, when iitlle Benny 



died. 

 The little dead face hardened me; what h,-^. my baby 



done? 

 But I tried hard, and j'ms< made out to say, "Thy will 



be done." 

 God works in mystery, and sometimes 'tis hard the 



right to see, 

 But poor old sinuer that I am, He's good enough for me. 



There's my two daughters, Hattie and Kate, I know 



they don't wear curls 

 Of borrowtd hair, and put on airs like neighbor Jones' 



girls; 

 They never wex:t to boarding school, and don't wear 



dimund rings. 

 Nor kids, nor silks, and velvets, and them Grecian bends 



and things; 

 But they're ooedient, loving girls, brown birds who 



work all day, 

 And jet can t itig when evening comes, and join in fun 



and play. 

 And John, too, aint a chap for show, but he is frank and 



free ; 

 An honest, faithful boy, and so he's good enough for me. 



And when life seems a stormy sea, and I a hopelees 

 waif, 



I've just to think of my old wife, anl T feel kinder safe. 



Just as the Koman Catholics I think must alwj\8 fcol 



■When they cry out to saints, or to the Virgin Mary 

 kneel; 



For it seems as though her soul 'tween me and God in 

 Paradise 



Must make even stains like mine seem somewhat dim- 

 mer in His eyes. 



And yet she 'a neither young nor handsome as she used 

 to be; 



But bless her pure and peaceful face, she 'a good enough 

 for me. 



And discontent is wicked, for whatever can it be 



But saying " vvhat my God has made aint good enough 



for me ?" 

 Such thoughts are impious; what are we that we should 



dare to say, 

 "This thing is wrong?" as if we could have shown a 



belter way. 

 Well I moralizing here may help to keep a fellow sound, 

 But 'twont help on the Spring's work, nor plough the 



stunny ground. 

 Get up, old chaps you're getting old and lazy too. I see, 

 But I am too, and so I guess, you're good enough for me. 

 Middlebury, Vt., 18b9. 



