136 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



fjatscrllanirs. 



[The following beautiful lines are from the Pensacola 

 Floridian. The first is from the pen of a geiitlemaa 

 in Florida; the second from that of a lady in Balti- 

 more.] — 



STANZAS. 



My life is like the summer rose, 

 That opens to the morning sky ; 

 But ere the shades of evening close, 

 Is scattered on the ground to die ; 

 Yet on the rose's humble bed 

 The sweetest dews of night are shed, 

 As if she wept such waste to see, 

 But none shall weep a tear for me. 



My life is like the autumn leaf, 

 That trembles in the moon's pale ray ; 

 Its hold is frail, its date is brief. 

 Restless, and soon to pass away 1 

 Yet ere that leaf shall fall and fade, 

 The parent tree shall mourn its shade. 

 The winds bewail the leafless tree. 

 But none shall breathe a sigh for me. 



My life is like the prints which feet 

 Have left on tempest^s desert straiid ; 

 Soon as the rising tide shall beat, 

 All trace will vanish from the sand ; 

 Yet, as if grieving to efface. 

 All vestige of the human race, 

 On that lone shore loud mourns the sea. 

 But none, alas, shall mourn for me I 



ANSWER. 



The dews of night may fall from heaven. 

 Upon the withered rose's bed, 

 .\nd tears of fond regret be given. 

 To mourn the virtues of the dead; 

 Yet morning suns the dews will dry, 

 And tears will fade from sorrow's eye, 

 Affection's pangs be lulled to sleep, 

 And even love Corget to weep. 



The tree may mourn its fallen leaf, 

 And auturan winds bewail its doom. 

 And friends may heave the sijh of grief 

 O'er those wh) sleep within the tomb ; 

 Yet soon will spring renew the flowers. 

 And time will bring more smiling hours ; 

 In friendship's heart all grief will die, 

 And even love forget to sigh. 



The sea may on the desert shore 

 Lament each trace it tears away, 

 I'he lonely heart its grief may pour 

 O'er cherish'd friendship's fast decay ; 

 Yet when all trace is lost and gone, 

 The waves dance bright and gaily on ; 

 Thus soon atfcction's bonds are torn, 

 And even love forgets to mourn ! 



VALLE CRUCIS. 



BY ROSCOE. 



Vale of the Cross ! The shepherds tell 

 'Tis sweet within thy woods to dwell, 

 For there are sainted shadows seen. 

 That frequent haunt the dewy green ; 

 By wandering winds the dirge is sung, 

 The convent bell by spirits rung; 

 And matin hymn and vesper prayer 

 Break softly on the tranquil air. 



Vale of the Cross ! the shepherds tell 

 'Tis sweet within thy woods to dwell. 

 For peace has there her sainted throne, 

 And pleasures to the world unknown, 

 The murmur of the distant rills, 

 The sabbath silence of the hills, 

 ^nd all the quiet that is given 

 V'ithout the golden gales of heaven. 



■ The Serpents in the Toy:cr. — The public, we 

 believe, are nnl generally auare of the exist- 

 ence in fhe Royal Menngerie at tlie Tower of 

 a very fine collection of that species of snake 

 called the Boa Constrictor. We were induced 

 to attend there on Montlay last, for the purpose 

 of l)eing wiliipss to the mode in wliich these 

 animals receive their sustenance, ami to discover 

 how far the description given by various au- 

 thors of their m.ioner of disposing of their prey 

 tallies with what might actually occur untier our 

 own observation. The animal selrcled by the 

 keeper for the purpose was the largest there, 

 and measured, we believe, 10 feet in length, 

 and 7 inches in diameter in its thickest part. — 

 Previous to receiving its prey, it appeared 

 very lively, and jjeered about ivilh its head in 

 all directions, occasioning its body to assume 

 those beautit'ul cur\ationsof which the snake 

 species are so capable. On perceiving the ap- 

 proach of the keeper witli the rabbit destined 

 for its meal, it \iillidrew all appearance of vig- 

 our and motion ; but the moment the rabbit 

 was placed in the cage, it seized its head with 

 so astonishingly rapid a motion, that the eye 

 could not keep pace with it, and by a simulta- 

 neous action of its body, it compressed its folds 

 so tightly round that of the rabbit as to crush 

 every bone that was within its grasp. This ra- 

 pid change was nervous to behold, and a vivid 

 imagination could not but picture to itself the 

 feartui scene of crushing and struggling which 

 the seizure of such an animal as a rleer or an 

 ox would create by a larger animal of this spe- 

 cies. That such scenes have occurred, and 

 have likewise been \vitnessed, we doubt not ; 

 but until we witnessed the convulsive but inef- 

 fectual struggle ol tiie unlbrtunate rabbit in the 

 ravenous and gnarleil grasp of the serpent on 

 this occasion, our conception readied no farther 

 than ilie common belief ailached lo the rel-itinn 

 of the tremendous powers of this species oi 

 snake. To enable the snake to gorge his pr'^\ 

 with the greater facilit_i, he wa- removed into 

 the court-yar I, when the glitlenng of the sun 

 beams upon his purple scales added much to the 

 interest and beauty 01 the spectacle Wiien ihc 

 rabbit was motionless, the snake gradually loos- 

 ened his folds, still retaining hi? hold by the 

 head; and having tully ascertained the death of 

 his victim, he (procteded to stretch the body of 

 the rabbit, which iie very curiously performed, 

 in ilrawing il by the head through a ring form- 

 ed from the fold* of his body ; tliis he repealed 

 until the whole was a m.i«s. Alier lubricating 

 (he head very much, but no olher part, he pro- 

 ceeded to swallow the rabbit, which action he 

 accelerated l)y pushing it down his throat against 

 his own body, and liy a strong retraction and re- 

 expansion of the muscles which lay at the back 

 of the head; by degrees the animal disappear- 

 ed, until nothing more was visible than a long 

 lump in the snake's throat, which it impelleci 

 forward by the action of the muscles, until it 

 reached the middle of its body, where it remain- 

 ed. 



Such is the mode of this animal's taking sus- 

 tenance; and if we compare this account with 

 various other writers, and particularly with that 

 given by Dr IMacleod of the Alceste, we shall 

 find them differ in nowise, except in the circum- 

 stance of this snake's omitting to lubricate the 

 whole of the body of its prey, which iiowevcr, 

 may have arisen from the diminutive size of 



the object on which it is led ; for the ease with 

 which the ralibit was gorged, was so great as to 

 lead us to imagine (hat a dog, thrice the size, 

 would experience very little dilliculty in ob- 

 taining a temporary residence in this serpent's 

 maw. 



There is also in this menagerie, the most 

 beautiful specimen of that harmless reptile, the 

 Harlequin snake, that was ever seen in this 

 country, the variety and brilliancy of whose 

 ci'lours are such as to excite the highes{ admi- 

 ration in the visitors. This is a native of Cey- 

 lon, and has been much admired for its beauty 

 and vivacity. — London paper. 



.ycilinnal Prejicdics. — Not many years ao-o. u 

 gentleman, bitely from Scotland, called on iSir 



at his seat near Boston, for whom he had 



some letters. While walking in his garden, a- 

 bounding in excellent Iruit, (he lader observed 

 ibat show him what he would, his guest insisted 

 he had seen " muckle better in Scotland."' Dc- 

 tormmed, however, (o surprise him, he private- 

 ly ordered his servani to tie some gourds on a 

 tall pear tree, whilst they were at dinner. When 

 the cloth was removed, '• Now, sir," said Mr. 



"• 1 think I c.in show you something you 



never saw in Scotland," and taking him (o the 

 Ir&e, he a«ked the astonished Scotchman what 

 he thought of that. " In troih, sar," quoth he, 

 '• Ihey are varra fine piers, indeed; but I think 

 I have seen full a« large in the duke of Argyle's 

 gardens, though I must confess tliat they hud na 

 unite sic lana nacks.'''' 



.fVe.gro ll'it. — Some lew years ago, a gentle- 

 man crossed liie Potomac eastward, below Bbul- 

 cnsburg, being destined (or that place. Comin"- 

 lo the main mad, he turned lo the right instead 

 of the left. Having travelled about a mile, he 

 overtook a bl.ick niao, and inquired whether he 

 was on the "igiii road to Bladensbiirg. " Yesse, 

 massa," was the answer, "you are on the right 

 road to Bladensburg, but you must turn your 

 liorse'.s head t' olher way, or you will never 

 <re! tbe.e." 



FRUIT TREES, &c. 



■'T ,-4-l^-?^ "jjTAMF-S BLOODGOOD&CO. 

 tj "" " t? have for sale at their Nursery 

 ffl^^ at Flushing, on Long Island, near 



•"" "^^^^^^^^^a^ New York, 



Fruit and Forest Trees, Flowerinjf Shrubs & Plants, 

 i of the most approved scwts. 



I The Proprietors of this Nursery attend personally to 



I the inoculation and engrafting of «// Iheir Fruil Trees, 



and purchasers may rely with confidence, that the 



I Trees thty order will prove genuine. 



I Orders iitl with Mr Zebedee Cook, jr. No.44S«ate 



I Street, Boston, v.iil be transmitted to us, and receive 



our prompt and particular attention. Catalogues will 



the delivered, and any information imparted respectinig 



the condilion, i:c. ice. that may be required, on appli- 



I cation to him. !:ept. '1. 



TERMS OF THE FARMER. 



I (KT* Published every Saturday, at Thbf.e Doi.t.Ans 

 per annum, payable at the end of the year — but those 



1 who pay within si.rty rfiri/.' from the time of subscribiiig 



jwiU he entitled to a deduction of Fifty Ckkts. 



I {):^Postage must be paid on all letters to the Editor 

 or Publisher. 



JOB PRINTING 



execiited with neatness and despatch, on rcascnablt' 

 I'-rins at this Office. 



