1857. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



15 



•whom you can say anything to?" Will not the ket, and where Mr. N, informs us, is at all times 

 "brightest jewel in the coronal of woman," the found a ready sale for all the products of the farm 



crownmg excellence of female loveliness, which, 

 like character, "is tarnished by too much handling," 

 and "soiled by being rudely breathed upon," — 

 modesty — be henceforth found wanting ? I would 

 commend this subject to the consideration of all 

 sensible parents. There is certainly occasion for 

 us all to stop and reflect. 



It cannot be denied that the times are changed. 

 The next question is, have we changed with them ? 

 or is it only a temporary "fury" which is upon us ? 

 and which we shall soon shake off ? It may be 

 ■well for us to inquire what has led to this state of 

 things. I remarked above, that it had come over 

 us without any apparent cause. But that there is a 

 cause, and that it may be traced to its origin, I have 

 little doubt. But 1 have said enough for the pres- 

 ent. Perhaps on some future occasion I may re- 

 vert to the subject again. s. 



October 30, 1856. 



The whole of this immense farm is managed by G. 

 Bolton Newton, a son of Mr. N., nineteen years of 

 age, who must needs possess all the energy, activi- 

 ty and straight forwardness of his father, to accom- 

 plish, in the successful manner he does, this hercu- 

 lean task. — Germantown Telegraph. 



A VIRGINIA FAEM. 



Mr. Isaac Newton, of Springfield, Delaware, Co., 

 brought to the Agricultural room of the PhiladeL 

 phia Society, on Wednesday last, samples of wheat 

 and oats produced on his farm in Virginia. These 

 samples being very fine, and knowing that Mr. N 

 cultivated a large tract of land in Virginia, on the 

 Potomac river — having occasion heretofore to refer 

 to it — we preferred some inquiries as to the char- 

 acter of his farm, and the results of his operations 

 there. 



He informed us that his farm comprised over 

 three thousand acres, of which 1,800 were under 

 cultivation, and 600 more he had just reclaimed 

 from the marsh, which would be put down in tim- 

 othy this year. The remainder was timber land, 

 from which 600 cords of fire-wood were cut and 

 sold during last winter. The soil is alluvial, dark 

 clay mould, on which lime produces an astonishing 

 effect. 



The amount of land cropped this season is as fol- 

 lows: — 260 acres in corn, 150 acres in wheat, 130 

 acres in oats, 8 in potatoes, 3 in sweet potatoes, 

 in pumpkins, 4 in beans, and 4 in watermelons. 

 The yield will be over 5,000 bushels of oats, and 

 over 3,000 bushels of wheat. The corn, potatoes, 

 and other crops look very promising. The wheat 

 was thrashed out week before last, and is probably 

 sent to market before this meets the eye of the 

 reader. 



This immense farm is worked by only ten hands 

 — six white and four colored — and the product is 

 very considerably more than was obtained by the 

 preceding proprietor of the premises, who worked 

 fifty slaves upon it. There is a thorough system 

 introduced throughout, which works to the satisfac- 

 tion of both parties — the employer and employed 

 The disparity in the force required now and before, 

 is not so much in the inability of the men previous- 

 ly upon the place, as the want of system in con^ 

 ducting the various operations — not more in a gen- 

 eral sense, than one-half or one-fourth of the ordi 

 nary labor of a man is obtained from the slave that 

 he is capable of performing. 



This tract of land lies upon the Potomac river 

 twenty-seven miles below Washington, in Prince 

 William county. Washington is the principal mar- 



LABOR-AN ODE. 



Toil swings the axe, and forests bow ; 



Tlae seeds break out in radiant bloom ; 

 Rich harvests smile behind the plow, 



And cities cluster round the loom ; 

 Where towering domes and tapering spires 



Adorn the vale and crown the hill, 

 Stout Labor lights its beacon fires, 



And plumes with smoke the forge and mill. 



The monarch oak, the woodland's pride, 



Whose trunk is seamed with lightning scars, 

 Toil launches on the restless tide, 



And there unrolls the flag of stars ; 

 The engine with its lungs of flame, 



And ribs of brass and joints of steel, 

 From Labor's plastic fingers came, 



With sobbing valve and whirring wheel. 



'lis Labor works the magic press, 



And turns the crank in hives of toil. 

 And beckons angels down to bless 



Industrious hands on sea and soil. 

 Here sunbrowned toil, with shining spade. 



Links lake to lake with silver ties, 

 Strung thick with palaces of trade. 



And temples towering to the skies. 



George W. Bcsgat. 



For the New England Farjiier. 



FRUIT PIES. 



A correspondent of your paper, in a recent num- 

 ber, gives a recipe for making a pie crust which he 

 thinks more healthy than the fashionable mode. 

 Now I do not know what is the more fashionable 

 mode ; for the fashions change often ; and, for myself, 

 I have rarely, of late, eaten pie of any sort. But the 

 plan which Mr. Barlow recommends, is, like all re- 

 ceipts which involve the use of saleratus, more or 

 less objectionable. The pie made without any un- 

 der crust is far more healthy. This, however, he 

 is careful not to deny — he only tells us it is "bet- 

 ter," and "more convenient," to have a crust such 

 as he recommended, than to "dish out with a 

 spoon." I wish he would go a little further, and 

 tell us, not only that his own method is healthier 

 than the fashionable mode, but that no crust at all, 

 though it may be less "convenient," is still more 

 healthy. And then, incidentally, I wish he would 

 tell us, if he can, why his own less objectionable 

 crust is better, aside from its convenience, as he af- 

 firms it is, than no crust at all. 



When he has done this, I should like to ask him 

 and you, reader, if you please, into the bargain — 

 why we should have any fruit pies ? Are our rich 

 fruits, cooked, as they seem to be, in God's own 

 way and sunshine, susceptible of improvement ? A 

 few may be, I admit ; such as the quince, the coarse 

 winter pear, and possibly, a few kinds of apples ; 

 but these, especially quinces and pears, are seldom 

 wrought into pics. Who that has a stomach of any 

 integrity, would think of rendering strawberries, 



