350 



Soiling Milch Cows. 



Vol. in. 



to the Flowers," at page 285. If, Mr. Edi- 

 tor, you continue to interest the female por- 

 tion of our families, your business is clone; 

 no one can calculate the influence of the wo- 

 men, and when that is in a right direction, 

 every thing' goes well. I never visit a fami- 

 ]y for tfie first time without examining very 

 closely the character of the females belong- 

 ing to it; if these are intelligent and fond of 

 poetry, I know that all is right, and if they 

 keep a scrap-book, I am sure that every thing 

 in the house and around the house is as it 

 should be ; indeed, the influence of the scrap- 

 book might be traced even to the garden, for 

 what girl, who is fond of flowers and poetry, 

 will allow her parterre to be overgrown with 

 weeds'? And then the next thing is, to wit- 

 ness the honeysuckles twining around the 

 door, and creeping in at the windows ! When 

 1 was a young man, in search of a wife, I al- 

 ways considered such prognostics as a sure 

 sign that "good entertainment" was to be 

 found within; and the choice which I was so 

 fortunate as to make from such a recommen- 

 dation, emboldens me to press it upon the no- 

 tice of all who are upon the same errand. 



But to return to that Gem, the "Hymn to 

 the Flowers," you must know, sir, that the 

 law in our family is, to have as little as pos- 

 sible to do on the Simday, that it might be, 

 indeed, a " Sabbath," — a day of rest to " man 

 and beast," — to this end, my wife and daugh- 

 ters vie with each other in preparing for it 

 on the Saturday; all that can then be done, 

 is done, even to the decoration of the parlor 

 with fresh flowers, after a thorough cleaning 

 and righting ; so that when we rise on the 

 Sunday morning, which we always do, ear- 

 lier than on any other day, we feel the luxu- 

 ry of a "Sabbath morning!" My house is 

 situated within a short distance of the church, 

 and after an early breakfast, and while the 

 women are putting things away and prepar- 

 ing for their approaching duties, (my daui>h- 

 ters are teachers in the Sunday-school,) it is 

 my custom to visit all the animals upon the 

 farm, to congratulate them upon the return 

 of their day of rest — their holy day ; and 

 then, to enter the wood, which adjoins the 

 garden, and throw myself along upon the sod 

 and repent, from beginning to end, the " Hymn 

 to the Flowers," applying those endearing 

 epithets with which the verses commence, 

 to them in person — 



"Floral Apostles; that in dnwy splendor, 

 Weep without wo, and blush without a crime!" 



But it is not possible for me to describe my 

 feelings, or the devotion which sprinsrs up 

 within me on such occasions — they are the 

 holiest of the holy, and attune my heart to 

 the performance of the services of the church 

 n a way quite unutterable I Need I add, 



'that after such a "Sabbath of the soul," we 

 jbegin the week with an elasticity of feeling 

 [which gives such an impetus to our exertions 

 jas carries us clean through till Saturday 

 night? 



My daughters request me to hand you, in 

 return for the pleasure which they have ex- 

 perienced in the perusal of the above "Hymn," 

 an extract from their scrap-book, which they 

 hope will be deemed worthy your accept- 

 ance. R. G. 



Eucks county, 20lh jMay, 1830. 



The following beautiful lines are from a 

 "Selection of Irish Melodies," by 



THOMAS MOORE. 



Oh ! had we some bright little Isle of our own, 



In a blue summer ocean, far off and alone ; 



Where a leaf never dies in the still blooming bowers. 



And the bee banquets on thro' a whole year of flowers — 



Where the sun lovea to pause, 

 With so fond a delay, 



That the night only draws 

 A thin veil o'er tiie day — 

 Where, simply to feel that we breathe — that we live. 

 Is worth the best joy that life elsewhere can give ! 

 There, with souls ever ardent, and pure as the clime. 

 We should love, as they loved in the first golden tirae. 

 The glow of the sunshine, the balm of the air, 

 Would steal to our hearts, and make all summerthere. 



With affection as free 

 From decline as the bowers, 



And with hope, like the bee. 

 Living always on flowers ; 

 Our life should resemble a long day of light. 

 And our death come on holy, and calm as the night. 



Soaliiig Milcli Cows. 



The Zoarites, a religious sect of Germans, 

 on the Muskingum river in Ohio, keep their 

 milch cows constantly in the stall and feed 

 them with the offal of the milk, hay, roots, 

 &c., and they are said to yield an extraordi- 

 nary quantity of milk — some twenty quarts a 

 day through tiieyear. They also pay partic- 

 ular attention to their cleanliness. Their 

 stalls are thoroughly washed daily, and the 

 water used for this purpose, is caretully col- 

 lected in reservoirs, and applied, in the form 

 of liquid manure, to their hot houses and gar- 

 dens. 



In a late communication to the British 

 Board of Agriculture, it stated that thirty 

 cows, one bull, four calves, and five horses, 

 were fed through the sunimer from fitleen 

 acres of clover,^ sown the preceding year. — 

 The labor of two men and two women was 

 sutlicient to tend them, and tlie nett produce 

 of the season, in butter, from Jiuie to October, 

 was JSIO U)s., nearly $00 from each cow.— 

 Silk (Julturist. 



