No. 1. 



The Farmer's Life — Sugar Beet. 



35 



that is printed, if it speaks about the charms 

 of nature, for I find that the writers do not 

 consider their pictures quite perfect until 

 they bring the happy, plodding farmer into 

 one corner of the sketch. Now, to be sure, 

 that's a compliment, and we ougiit not to ob- 

 ject to be made the finishing-stroke to such 

 a design ; but all this, though bad enough, is 

 mere prose — 'tis poetry that sets us ofl' in 

 our proper colours, and turns the most labori- 

 ous of our employments into a mere business 

 of hop-step-and-jump ! People must be aston- 

 ished to find that farmers sometimes have to 

 earn their bread by the sweat of their brow 

 — that would betoken exertion, of which they 

 can know nothing, you see. 



I am led to contemplate afresh our enviable 

 state of ease and happiness, by reading a copy 

 of verses in the Maine Farmer — an excellent 

 paper, devoted to the pursuits of agriculture 

 — all about the sweets of early rising, in the 

 shape of the milk-maid's song, written by 

 Julia ! Now, do but hear her, and say, ye 

 whose " easy task" it is to milk a dozen cows 

 of a morning, and do the work of the dairy- 

 house besides — for, you know, the milk must 

 be skimmed and a set of pans removed, to 

 make room for the morning's milk, before the 

 cows are milked — whether your hearts do not 

 glow, although your fingers might freeze, at 

 the thought of so much " love and idleness !" 

 but, hear how Julia sings — 



I wake to breatho the purest gale, 

 That first comes o'er the wood ; 

 Now hie me with my white milk-pail, 



To draw pure nature's food. 

 Anil when my easy task is done, 



I '11 hasten to the grove, 

 The sky-lark's plaintive song to con, 

 Or listlessly to rove. 



For I love the morn before its dawn, 



And stars just growing dim ; 

 I love the song of the wild-bird throng, 

 Their grateful morning hymn. 



But the most amusing part of it is to hear 

 her talk — after her easy task of milking- is 

 done — of hastening to the grove to con the 

 sky-lark's plaintive song — there she is unfor- 

 tunate, for the sky-lark never sings until after 

 the dawn, and then his notes are proverbially 

 sprightly, but that's nothing — or to rove about 

 listlessly, and all this before tlie dawn of the 

 morning too, else it would not be poetical, for 

 it is the morn before the dawn — which in 

 sober prose would be night — that she loves ! 

 Oh, there can be but one thing sweeter, and 

 that would be, a walk in a church-yard after 

 dark ! 



But although Julia is unfortunate in se- 

 lecting her time for these connings and list- 

 less rovings, she is not alone in tins particu- 

 lar, for I remember the first verse of a song, 

 which I heard in my youth, all about hay- 

 making, which was a little out of keeping 

 also ; it was this — I 



As I walk'd forth one May morning, 



A leetle before it was day, 

 Oh ! there did I spy a fair pretty maiden, 



As she was a making of hay ! 



An odd time of the year, and day too, to be 

 making of hay ; but never mind. 



Now, Mr. Editor, all these things are, as I 

 said, very pretty in their place, but, hang it, 

 they ought not to be printed in agricultural 

 works ; we farmers have no objection for such 

 persons as Julia to amuse themselves in this 

 way, but don't put their nonsensical stuff into 

 the mouths of those who know and feel how 

 perfectly ridiculous the whole matter is ; it 

 tends to bring book-farming into contempt. 



I grant the farmer has some pleasures in 

 his occupation, and it would be hard indeed 

 if he had not, for he has plenty of labour to 

 mix with them ; but these pleasures do not 

 consist in listless connings and rovings in 

 search of the sublime and beautiful, before 

 the dawn of day ! Sometimes, too, he en- 

 counters a little uneasiness on account of the 

 weather, which, although it is always propi- 

 tious upon paper, will now and then turn out 

 a little crooked in reality ; rain, for instance, 

 in hay-tiine or harvest, and blight with all 

 its "sad concomitants" amongst the crops;, 

 there is also such a thing as disease amongst 

 his cattle, and seasons of drought and inun- 

 dation — but these, of course, would not look 

 well upon paper, even when turned into 

 rhyme, nor could the farmer sing them very 

 well, at least very sweetly^ unless he were to 

 borrow a leaf out of Grabb's book. Seri- 

 ously, we have too much of this sort of trash 

 mixed up in our agricultural reading; it 

 might be amusing to others, but to practical 

 men it is any thing but interesting, and often 

 operates as an antidote to matter of much 

 more importance, when met in conjunction 

 with it. I am, Mr. Editor, a happy, but a 

 working Farmer. 



July 29, 1840. 



To the Editor of the Farmers' Cabinet. 



Sugar Beet as Food for Cattle. 



Sir, — I have heard that some, who have 

 cultivated this root for winter food, for all 

 kinds of stock, particularly for milk-cows, 

 liave expressed themselves disappointed with 

 the result, and have determined to abandon 

 the culture. Now, what is the cause of this 

 great difference in public opinion on so plain 

 and simple a subject, it is not easy for those, 

 who have not known this disappointment, to 

 determine ; and yet, that such has been the 

 fact, it would be hard to doubt. I presume 

 it must have arisen, in great part, from the 

 mode which has been adopted for their pre- 

 servation during winter, for it is well known, 

 that, soon after fermentation takes place, they 

 become acid, and unsuitable as food for milk- 



