1855. 



NEW ENGLAND I'ARMER. 



217 



they are composed. It should be borne in mind' 

 that in the production of a plant, not an atom of 

 matter is called into existence, Init merely a 

 ti'ansfer of atoms from one condition or mode of 

 existence to anotlicr. As man has not the con- 

 trol of the atmosphere, his only alternative is to 

 provide for the wants of animal or vegetable life 

 in the soil. If nature has not made such pro- 

 visions, it will certainly be found to be a very 

 expensive way of doing it by the use of guano 

 alone, especially for the cereals, which require 

 vegetable matter fur the productiun and perfec- 

 tion of their kind. I will here venture a few 

 suggestions for the use of gnano. 



1. If your corn ground is cold and heavy the 

 fore part of June, and the plant-: appear yellow 

 and sickly, apply a little of it directly to the 

 hill ; if a little of it falls upon the plant, it will 

 seldom sustain any injury. The gain in the crop 

 will probably be three or four times the cost of 

 the application. 



2. If you wish to raise corn-stalks for fodder, 

 by all means use guano, and save your barn- 

 yard manure for other crops. I do not think 

 guano as good as yard and compost manure for 

 making ears, but it certainly is good for mak- 

 ing stalks. If you apply it to some remote cor- 

 ner of your form on to which you cannot con- 

 veniently cart other manure, all the better, wheth- 

 er for this or other ci'ops. 



3. For potatoes, a compost, made of guano 

 and well pulverized muck, would, io my opin- 

 ion be preferable to barn manure, and less liable 

 to the rot. Will you try it in some of these ways, 

 and then give us the result of your experience? 



Bristol, Ct. C. Elakely. 



HOW A THEIFTLESS FARMEE WAS 

 REFOEMED. 



[We copy the following story from one of Dr. 

 Glen C. Haven's Letters to his Son, published in 

 Life Illustrated .] 



If you have a place for every thing, and keep 

 it in its place, if you have a time to do business, 

 and do it in its time, you will find that you will 

 "drive business" instead of business driving you, 

 and so will have leisure instead of constant worry. 

 It pains me to see some men undertake any busi- 

 ness of moment. They are as sure to become en- 

 tangled, and thrown on to their l^acks, tlieir busi- 

 ness a-top of them, as they are to undertake it. 

 Take farming for instance Now I venture the 

 assertion that two-thirds of all the farmers in this 

 State are burning ffrccn wood this terrible cold 

 weather. Go into their houses, and you hear the 

 sisisng of the beech, or maple, or elm, as like to 

 the death-dirge of a cockroach as can be. Out 

 of the chimney tops comes forth smoke dark as 

 Tartarus, and there wives and hired girls are 

 cross as bedlam. These men could not find time 

 to cut there wood and have it seasoned. Now I 

 charge it on you, that you fail not to have time 

 to do all that you undertake — //i order. Every 

 day accidents, casualties, catastrophes, provi- 

 dences are taking place, because men, women and 

 children have not time to do things as they 07(f/hl 

 to be done. I must tell you a story — which is a 

 fact. When I was a boy, there lived in my native 

 village a family by the name of Wilson. There 



were four boys and four girls, and they were ex- 

 ceedingly gifted. Not one of them was there 

 who did not rank in beauty, intellect and per- 

 souiil physical power a good way above medi- 

 oci'ity. They all hud ni(n-e then common cduca- 

 tioutil acquirements, for they learned easily. The 

 girls all married early, and to young men of 

 high promise. The men all married — and to re- 

 spectable women. Yet all remained poor. Their 

 failure wa.' directly attrilnitable to a tvant of 

 order. Not one of them was ever known to do a 

 thing in its time, nor have a thing in its place — 

 with one excej^tion, and he is the hero of myste- 

 ry. Of one of the girls I may say truthfully 

 that for over thirty-fiv'> years she has 7icvcr seen 

 the sun rise, always going to bed past midnight 

 and rising past midday. But to my story. Eras- 

 tus Wilson Avas a larmer — a shiftless, slovenly, 

 disorderly, slip-shod farmer. The winds and the 

 waters, the sun and rain, darkness and broad 

 day, all conspired to do him harm. His gates 

 were unhung, his hogs' noses were unwrung, his 

 sheep could leap his fences like wild deer, his cat- 

 tle were seen with boards over their eyes, great 

 spiked chains on their necks, pokes on, and "tied 

 head and foot." His horses were as thin as a 

 Rhode Island spare rib — you could see sunrise 

 through them. His windows had old hats, old 

 coats, old newspapers, and shingles, instead of 

 glass. His corn was stunted, his meadows half 

 covered with grass, and around and about him 

 the spirit of decay seemed to brood. Yet he 

 worked hard, did not di'ink, nor gamble, nor 

 quarrel. In fact, he was a pious man, but he 

 did every thing at the wrong time and in the 

 wrong way. 



Thus he lived until his hair turned (/ray, and 

 ■poverty sat at "his table an acknowledged member 

 of his family. One cold December day he was 

 going to his barn, and it happened that he lifted 

 up his eyes, and afar off in one of his lots he saw 

 something that looked to him like deer-horns 

 sticking through the top of a snow-drift. He 

 was all alive. He would make a conquest-— go 

 over the fence he leaped and made for the deer. 

 He waded the drifted and undrifted snow till he 

 reached the spot, when, behold ! instead of the 

 horns of a buck, there stuck up the two handles 

 of his plow. He was very angry, and started to 

 go back, when he said he heard a voice as audibly 

 as ever a voice spake, say, "Erastus Wilson, you 

 deserve a good flogging for leaving your plow out 

 in the snow. It is by such heedlessness you have 

 come to poverty. Pick up your plow and tiike it 

 to the barn." 



He immediately sot about it, and by what 

 means he did it he never could tell. But through 

 that deep snow and over the drifts he dragged 

 the implement to the barn. Once there, he took 

 a raw hide, stripped himself naked, and addressed 

 himself : 



"Erastus Wilson, you are a moan, dirty, pov- 

 erty-stricken man. All your long life you have 

 been too lazy to save what you liave earned, or 

 too careless to do it. You deserve a flogging. 

 Here is your plow whoso handles you could nev- 

 er see, till you thought thom theliorns of a deer, 

 then you could wade drifts waist deep to get 

 them. You deserve a good flogging, you careless 

 blockhead, and you shall have it;" and he laid 

 the raw hide on to his body, legs and feet, till he 



