1854. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



413 



built over with manufacturing establishments 

 and the old farms are contracted into more door- 

 yards and gardens, Agriculture has grown apace 

 until it reeds a year-book of goodly size to record 

 its improvements, and a bulky census to expos 

 its wealth. — New York Times. 



VETERINARY HOMffiOPATHY. 



Mr. Moore : — I take the liberty of forwarding 

 to you by mail, a small volume entitled " Vcicrin- 

 ary Homoeopathy,'^ by Rush, published in Phil- 

 adelphia. 



The rational treatment of Domestic Animals is 

 gaining ground daily, and fast superseding the 

 old and barbarous system. I have tried it to some 

 extent, and jSnd it acts more promptly on animals 

 than on persons, for the simple reason that their 

 food is not so artificial, and besides, they have no 

 imagination to draw upon . I have treated success- 

 fully various cases of acute colic, in horses, "hol- 

 low horn" in cows, catarrh or influenza in horses, 

 even when it was supposed to be glanders; also 

 the various stages of distemper j and other ailments 

 too numerous to mention. All rowcling, bleeding, 

 drenching, and kindred heroic remedies can be 

 dispensed with. 



Though not a "graduate" nor a "practition- 

 er," I have some small medical knowledge — and 

 great desire to lessen the suffering of both man 

 and beast; hence I trouble you in this way, and 

 would bespeak for this beautiful system your can- 

 did consideration. I have received a medical edu- 

 cation at the llomoco. Med. College in Philadel- 

 phia, but attended more as an amateur, than with 

 a view of going into, and becoming a general 

 practitioner, — for the reason, that I had too much 

 other buisness on my hands, and was too old a man 

 to undergo the fatigue of a country practice. 1 

 am well satisfied that the general introduction of 

 this systsem among farmers, will be the means of 

 saving the lives of much valuable stock, and erad- 

 icate many hereditary taints to which they are 

 heir. — Wool Grower. 



For the New England Farmer. 



TRAINING YOUTH TO A WRONG OC- 

 CUPATION. 



Mr. Editor : — Though but a youth myself, still 

 L consider I have a right to represent the rights 

 and wrongs of youth as a class. There are many 

 parents who persist in training their children to 

 a pursuit which they have no inclination nor 

 taste to pursue. Most farmers think their sons 

 must follow in their track, whether they have a 

 taste for other pursuits or not. Perhaps a boy 

 has a tact for trading, or he may be very ingen- 

 ious, and would like to be a mechanic, but no, 

 says the parent, while you are under my control, 

 you must do my bidding. Such parent's are 

 not looking out for their children's future welfare, 

 but only for their own present interest. If pa- 

 rents would consult their children more, and give 

 them the pursuit they naturally tend to, it would 

 be for their good, and for those they give it to. 

 For how can a man engage in a particular pur- 

 suit and have it profitable, unless his mind anl 

 inclination arc also tlirown in with it ? 



Lynnfield, 1854. A Young Farmer. 



THE FARMER'S SONG. 



BY WILSON FLAGG. 



A late dismal stoiy our ears hath assailed, 



That your banks and your merchants and brokers had failed 



But ne'er in the wealtli of our country despair, 



While the weather and season will smile on our care. 



From the banks of our rivers good specie we raise. 



Fine silver in vrheat, and bright gold in our maize. 



In the banks of the earth we deposit our wealth, 

 And reap, with the interest, vigor and health ; 

 Kind Nature's our banker, and all our wide fields 

 Are the mart that the profits of industry yields. 

 Though our traders have failed, we are not so forlorn, — 

 Bring the notes of your banks, and we'll pay them in com. 



We learu that your bankers have issued their notes, 



Till like leaves in the autumn, their paper coin floats ; 



They promise to pay "on demand" you'll peruse, 



Yet the gold for their paper they often refuse. 



Trade with us, and you'll neither be shaven nor shorn ; — 



The farmers ne'er give you the husks for the corn. 



We speculate only in weather and soil ; 

 Our gains are the well-earned reward of our toil ; 

 Though moderate, still they are solid and sure. 

 And while we have vigor, our wealth will endure. 

 Our banks, where wo safely deposit in Spring, 

 A rich dividend In the Autumn will bring. 



What a treasure of wealth will our pastures unfold ; 

 Our woodlands are surely far better than gold ; 

 And all your bright silver no profit will yield, 

 Except as 'twill purchase the fruits of the field ! 

 And unless your bank money a change soon receives, 

 'Twill ere long be too worthless to purchase our leaves. 



Yet of our own calling 'tis idle to boast ; 

 And now both our merchants and bankers we'll toast : — 

 Here's to banking and commerce and all honest trade ; 

 Our wealth would all perish without their just aid. 

 And while both to justice and truth they are sworn, 

 Bring the notes of your banks and we'll pay them in com. 



A BEAUTIFUL PICTURE. 



The man who stands upon his own soil, who 

 feels that liy the laws of the land in which he 

 lives — by the laws of civilized nations — he is the 

 rightful and exclusive owner of the land which he 

 tills, is by the constitution of our nature under a 

 wholesome influence not easily imbibed from any 

 other source. He feels — other things being equal 

 — more strongly than another, the character of a 

 man as Lord of an inanimate world. Of this 

 great and wonderful sphere, which , fashioned by 

 the hand of God, and upheld by his power, is 

 rolling through,, the heavens, a part of his — his 

 from the centre sky. It is the space on which the 

 generation 1)efore moved in its round of duties, 

 and he feels liimself connected by a visible link 

 with those who follow him, and to whom ho is to 

 transmit a home. Perhaps his farm has come 

 down to him from his fathers. They have gone 

 to their last home ! but he can tra(;e their foot- 

 steps over the scenes of his daily labors. The 

 roof which shelters him was reared by those to 

 whom he owes his l)cing. Some interesting do- 

 mestic tradition is connected with every enclosure. 

 The favorite fruit tree was planted by iiis father's 

 hand, lie sported in boyliood beside tlie brook 

 which still winds tlirough the meadow. Through 

 the field lies tlio patli to the village school of 

 earlier days, lie still hears from the window the 

 voice of the Sabbatli boll which called l-is father 

 to the house of God ; and neir at liand is the spot 

 where his parents laid down to rest, and where, 



