200 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER, 



DEC. 30, 1« 



msBSsiaa^aw^, 



I From the Hovvnina Gazette. J 

 KITCHEN POETRY. 



I'm tired of work, said Polly Gray ; 



It's nothing but scrub, the livelong day ; 



I've walloped tlie pots and kettles round 



Till my ears are sick of the very sound. 



My hands are as hard as a critter's hi.rn. 



Such things I never since I was born 



On any decent body did see, 



Much more on one that was made like me. 



There ! there ! that pot is sputtering over, 



Because I fijrgot to take off the cover — 

 The fat is scorching the bread is burning — 

 Run, Polly the fritter needs a turnino- — 

 The broom is worn to the very hub — 

 The brush is only a tangled stub. 



How many spradling, hitching motions 

 I've made in wearing out them notions ! 

 I've twisted my hips and shoulders out, 

 In banging the beds and blankets about. 

 There are two long marks astride of my nose ! 

 They husbands mean, but the deuce only knows 

 When one will come ! and here I must stay 

 In this stewed up kitchen lo work all day. 

 There was Betsey Grant and Hulda Drew, 

 Two lazy drabs as ever I knew — 

 They wriggled and twisted their bodies about, 

 And laid all they earnt in finery out ; 

 And each wore behind a frightful lump, 

 That look'd for the world, like a camel's hump. 

 My stars ! I wonder the men don't go 

 And bring home a " Hottentot Venus" or so ; 

 The girls would be in utter despair. 

 To match the form of the Hottentot fair. 

 Weil Hulda Drew and Betsey Grant 

 Are married now, and board with my aunt ; 

 They drawl their words and stick back their head, 

 Too plaguy pmud to earn their bread, 

 I wonder what the reason can be 

 That nobody comi's to marry me ? 

 Splash goes the dish cloth into the kettle — 

 I'll try for once Miss Polly's mettle — 



Let the cukes burn as black as my shoe 



Stay here fir a drudge I'll be hang'd if I do; 

 I mean to flirt, and idle, and wriggle , 

 And lare, and pad, and stare, and giggle ; 

 And then if nobndy the question pops, 

 By jings, I shall be aa mad as hops. 



MOPPET. 



QUESTIO.NS TO PROMOTE CONVERSATION Is It 



possible that the old and new continent (as emi- 

 nent geologists assert) were once united, and that 

 lliey liHve been rent asunder by some mighty con- 

 vulsion of nature ? 



Would the world gain or lose if all tlie trea- 

 sure in the dead languages were translated into 

 English, and the tongues themselves no more 

 .studied ? 



Do you sutjpo,«e Shakspeare had any idea that 

 lift was to be immortal .' If so, why did he not 

 leave a corrected copy of his works ? 



May discoveries be made hereafter as important 

 as that of the lightning-rod, glass, gunpowder, 

 printing, the compass, steam-hoats, etc. 



Will tlie United States ever be entangled in 

 European politics, or be attacked by European 

 armies for the sake of conquest.' 



Is there any bottnin to the ocean, or may not 

 onr planet be compnspd principally of water as it 

 is iirincipally covered by it .' 



Will there be ever monuments of architecture 

 raised in America, equal to tho.se of Europe, and 

 of antiquity ? 



Will the globe ever be completely occupied bj' 

 civi'ized b ings, enlightened and friendly toward 

 each other .' 



Is the art of ship-building and of navigating 

 the sea, susceptible of any further improvement? 



Will the time ever arrive when the air will be 

 as full of balloons as the ocean is of ships? 



Has the changing of the tide any effect upon 

 the longevity of one on a death-bed ? 



Will one language ever predominate over the 

 rest; if so, which will it be? 



To what other purposes is it possible thatsteam 

 may be hereafter applied ? 



Are Cer(?s, Pallas, Juno, and Vesta, proven to 

 be but fragments of a world ? 



Is it demonstrated, or only supposed, that heav- 

 enly bodies are inhabited ? 



Is the burning of the Alexandrian library ad- 

 mitted by authentic, history ? 



Is the population of the globe increasing', de- 

 creasing, or stationary ? 



Was the abdication of Charles V. a wise or a 

 foolish measure ? 



May not locomotives one day really supersede 

 the use of horses ? 



Should a young lady in affluent circumstances 

 learn Latin ? 



May not every street in cities be converted into 

 rail-roads ? 



Is it right, under any circumstances, to marry 

 for money ? 



Has a planet really burst and been broken to 

 pieces ? 



Has the moon any effect upon men's imagina- 

 tions ? 



Account for the derivation of the word lunatic. 



Is the sun really composed ofjire, or not ? 



Should the poor ever marry ? — JV. Y. Mirror. 



The Mocking Bird. — That sweetest of Ameri- 

 can songsters, the rival of th"! nightingale of the 

 Old World, (the mocking bird,) w«s in full song, 

 and wooing its mate ; and sweeter melody than 

 that which filled the ear during the short southern 

 twilight, and beguiled the hours of darkness, was 

 surely never heard under the stars. I have often 

 listened to that song el.sewhere, in the deep woods 

 of North and West ; but, whether it was the sea- 

 son, or the union of circumstances and thought, 

 which attuned my own temper and mind to the 

 harmony, I think I never heard that inexplicably 

 varied song poured forth with such effect as amid 

 the sweet-scented dews of Darien. The air was 

 filled with its vibrations, hour after hour, and eve- 

 ry quality, power, clearness, and melody, seemed 

 united and perfected in the quiet efforts of that 

 swpct-throated bird. Their numbers were greater 

 than I had ever witnessed elsewhere. If you 

 stole in the starlight up the river bank, fiom your 

 seat under the piazzas of the village, there was no 

 danger of your leaving the melody behind. There 

 was a secluded dip on the shore full of palmetto, 

 and other low bushes, into which you descended 

 by a winding footpath between rocky sandstone 

 banks. A couple of canoes were moored within 

 its shelter ; and, at the foot of the sandstone rock, 

 where an aged tree slanted across it, a fresh spring 



welled out and ran its short bubbling coiii>e to 

 the river. Here it was delirious to linger in the 

 darkness, and listen to the melody in the branches 

 above you. And again, between this | oint and 

 the village lay an ancient Indian mound, on the 

 verge of a lawn-ike piece of level sward, e.vtend- 

 ing from the steep high bank of the Aiatarnaha, 

 some ilistance towards the forest ; with groups of 

 live oak sparkling over it, and thickening towards 

 the cottages and rude chiircli on its confines. 

 Here on both evenings of our stay, 1 marked one 

 of these syrens takes its perch on a solitary bush 

 which broke the uniformity of the swell of the 

 mound, and sit hour after hour, alternately listen- 

 ing to, and answering the notes of a mate con- 

 cealed among the thick foliage and hanging moss 

 of a distant tree. I listened to it till I thought I 

 could almost interpret its full varied tale, with its 

 innumerable period.s. If the intensity of fee ing 

 be at all commensurate with the intensity and 

 [lower of exjiression, who shall fathom the depth 

 of that which God has implanted in the little 

 fluttering heart of these his songsters ? What 

 can match the thrilling ecstacy of those clear and 

 redundant notes, or express the depth of pathos, 

 of which those slow plaintive modulations con- 

 vey an expression to the breast? There is no. 

 thing in nature that speaks to me more |,lainly of 

 the goodness of God, than the overflowing, heart- 

 lul, and joyous song of a bird. Is this not the 

 voice of )iraise, and is it not a song of unutterable 

 gratitude ? Who can listen to a strain like this, 

 or study the nature and attributes of any individ- 

 uals within the scope of animate nature, without 

 being struck with the degree of perfection which 

 seems to be stamped on each in its sphere, how- 

 ever confined that may be ; and, making th« I 

 reflection, what a distinct line is to be drawn be- f' 

 tween man and them. The one we believe crea- 

 ted with nobler powers and impulses, and fo: 

 nobler ends ; but, having fallen, now irregula 

 and vacillating, subject to a thousand imperfec 

 tions ; the others, as far as we know, the creature 

 of a day ; but how peiTct and how uniform i 

 their generations ! — Latrobe's Rambles in Americi. 



A man should neither choose to be a herini 

 nor a buffoon ; human nature is not so miseri 

 as that we should be always melancholy, nor f 

 happy that we should be always merry. 



■mi il» 



abl If- 



THB NEAV ENGLAND FARMER 



Is published every Wednesday Evening, at ^3 per amiiir 

 payahle at the end of the yegr — but lliosc who pay with 

 sixty days from the lime oi subscribing, are entitled to a d 

 duction of lilty cents. 



Uj^' No paper will be sent to a distance without payme > 

 being made in advance. 



AGENTS. 



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 Cincinnati — S. C. Parxhukst, 23 Lower Marltel-strcel. 

 Flushing, N Y.—W'u. Prince .V Sons, Prop. Liii. Boi.i 

 Middtehuni, V(.— Wight Chapman, Jlerchanl. 

 Taunton, Mass. — Sam'l O. Dunbar, Bookseller. 

 Hurtyo/-rf— Goodwin Sf C(.. lionksellers. 

 Newhnryport — Erk.nf.zkr J^tf.iiaian, Bookseller. 

 Portsmouth, N. //.—John W. Foster, Bookseller. 

 Woodstock, Vt. — J. A. Pratt. 

 Banzor, Me.—W'w. Mann. Diuggist. 

 Halifax, N. S.—V. i. Holland, Esq. Editor of RccordJ 

 S(. Lovis—Gr.a. Holton 



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