140 



0II)c Javmcr's ilXontl)lu ilisttov. 



ami ei young sow kept for pigs next spring. The 

 five pigs and old sow, when fattened, will make 

 eleven hundred pounds of pork ; five hundred 



will do for the family, with the five fat sheep, 

 and leave him six hundred pounds to Sell, which, 

 at five cents a pound, is thirty dollars. The two 

 calves me fatted and sold for five dollars. This 

 makes three hundred and forty dollars worth 

 sold from the products of the twenty acres, and 

 the family have had their farm living the past 

 year. 



It may he thought that this calculation is too 

 large for an average production, hut I assure you 

 that if the operator is industrious, economical 

 and judicious, lie will seldom fall short of the 

 quantity stated. But it is asked, how can an in- 

 dustrious man be constantly employed on twenty 

 acres of ground cultivated for farm purposes? 

 Look at it. His ground for spring crops is all 

 ploughed in the fall. On the first of April he 

 commences operations for the season. He first 

 sims the grass seed on the wheat ; then ten cwt. 

 of plaster on the ground for hoed crops; as soon 

 as the ground is sufficiently dry, he harrows and 

 cross harrows until it is thoroughly pulverized, 

 and then he rolls it. By that time the planting 

 ground is ready to harrow, which operation is 

 continued until the ground is well pulverized, 

 and the nearer it can he made to a garden tilth 

 the better. 



But if he is ahead of the season with his 

 work, he can always have full employment in 

 making the manure heap. He collects every 

 thing that will make manure that his time and 

 means permit; he puts on it at least one ton of 

 plaster at different times. Leached ashes, 

 swamp muck, marl, dirty salt, and old brine, are 

 all collected and mixed with the barn-yard dung, 

 so as to increase the manure heap to at least two 

 hundred loads. 



The ground being in good order and the sea- 

 son favorable, he commences planting the first of 

 May, and takes time and does it well— for there 

 is more lost by careless planting than would pay 

 for four limes the labor of doing it well. lie 

 first plants the wtirtzelj then the potatoes 

 and corn. Planting done, the wheat is 

 to be wed ; and as soon as the wurtzels 

 are irp, he begins hoeing, which affords him em- 

 ployment until the first, and perhaps the fifth of 

 July. He then has some leisure, and assists a 

 neighbor in haying, to procure help in hauling 

 in the grain. 



He commences harvest as soon as the grain 

 will answer, and barley will do to cut pretty 

 green. If it is not sufficiently dry to bind, let it 

 lie two or three days in swath. Harvest begun, 

 he may work as faithfully as he chooses until the 

 grain is all secured. That done he harrows, cul- 

 tivates, or ploughs shallow the bailey stubble, so 

 as to pulverize it thoroughly four inches deep, 

 and sows on it half a ton of plaster. The corn 

 is now ready to cut up ; that done, he ploughs 

 the barley stubble deep and well, and sows the 

 wheat. The summer crops are now ready to 

 gather, which employs him a while. When all 

 are secured, he takes out the manure, spreads it 

 evenly over thB surface, and ploughs it under. 

 The hoed ground is also to be ploughed for bar- 

 ley next spring, which keeps him busy until it is 

 time to prepare for winter. 



In winter he takes good care of his stock, 

 threshes the grain, and provides the fuel — hav- 

 ing none on his farm. The orchard is planted 

 by the fence around the farm and door yard. 

 Now, my young friends, be industrious and 



saving, and you will soon be able to purchase 

 twenty-one acres of land. And you who have 

 large possessions, and sons you wish to settle 

 near vou, divide your possessions with them, and 

 teaCh them to realize that industry and economy 

 are the sources of wealth, and that a neat, comfort- 

 able, and independent home, though it is small, 

 will afford more rational enjoyment in old age, 

 than large possessions, with a princely mansion, 

 even if it is not encumbered with debt. — Genesee 

 Farmer. 



Labor. 



BY FRANCES S. OSGOOD. 



Pause not to dream of the future before us, 



Pause not to weep the wild cares that come o'er us ; 



Hark, how Creation's deep, musical chorus 



Cnintermitting. goes up into Heaven ! 

 Never the ocean-wave falters in flowing ; 

 Never the little seed stops in growing; 

 More and more richly the rose heart keeps glowing, 



Till from its nourishing stem it is riven. 



" Labor is worship I" — the robin is singing ; 

 " Labor is worship!" — the wUd bee is ringing; 

 Listen ! that elegant whisper upspringing, 



Speaks to thy soul from out Nature's great heart. 

 From the dark cloud flows the life-giving shower ; 

 From the rough sod blows the soft breathing flower; 

 From the small insert the rich coral bower; 



Only man, in the plan, shrinks from his part. 



Labor is life ! — 'Tis the still water faileth ; 



Idleness ever despaireth. bewaileth ; 



Keep the watch wound, for the dark rust assaileth; 



Flowers droop and die in the stillness of noon. 

 Labor is glory ! — the flying cloud lightens; 

 Only the waving wing changes and brightens; 

 Idle hearts only the dark future frightens ; 



Play the sweet keys, would'st thou keep them in tune! 



Labor is rest from the sorrows that greet us ; 

 Rest from all petty vexations that meet us. 

 Rest frum sin-promptings that ever entreat us, 



Rest from world-syrens that lure us to ill. 

 Work — and pure slumbers shall wait on thy pillow ; 

 Work — thou shalt ride over Care's coming billow ; 

 Lie not down wearied 'neath Wo's weeping willow ! 



Work with a stout heart and resolute will ! 



Droop not, tho' shame, sin, and anguish are round thee ! 

 Bravely fling off" the cold chain that hath bound thee ! 

 Look to yon pure Heaven smiling beyond thee ! 



Rest not content in thy darkness — a clod ! 

 Work ! — for some good — be it ever so slowly : 

 Cherish some flower — be it ever so lowly! 

 Labor ! All labor is noble and holy ; 



Let thy great deeds be thy prayer to thy God ! 



Pleasures connected with the pursuit of Sci. 

 ence. 



There is no station in life, however lowly, but 

 has its sweets, and there is no station in lite, 

 however high, but has its sorrows. In no in- 

 stance can sorrow he traced to the pursuit of 

 science. Whatever pleasure it may bring, one 

 thing is certainly true, — it brings no sorrows. 

 On the contrary, it is a source of enjoyment to 

 every man who has a taste to pursue it, be that 

 man an humble tradesman or a wealthy mer- 

 chant. It is a common opinion that t.o man is 

 scientific unless he is master of all the abstract 

 knowledge relating to astronomy, mathematics, 

 chemistry, geology, and is somewhat versed in 

 Latin and Greek. But where can we find a man 

 so thoroughly endowed with scientific know- 



Books. — Books may he likened to a vast re- 

 servoir, and the reading of" them to a conduit, 

 which leads out a stream of knou ledge to re- 

 fresh and invigorate the mind. Reading, to him 

 who is in search of knowledge, is a cloud by 

 day and a pillar of fire by night, to guide him 

 along an uncertain, dark, and rugged way. It 

 gives a constant and vigorous impulse to the 

 mind, and is as necessary to its healthful action 

 as food is to the body. By means of reading, 

 the treasures of history, the wonders of astrono- 

 my and chemistry, the beauties of poetry and 

 eloquence, are opened to our view, to enrich our 

 minds, to exalt and purify our hearts. The ex- 

 perience of ages is placed within our reach, and 

 we have only to cultivate our memories to retain 

 its treasures. It is true, much of this advantage 

 and improvement is predicated on the judicious 

 selection of books. If this he neglected, they 

 may he the instruments to minister to a diseased 

 imagination and a depraved taste, and afford as 

 little benefit to the reader as deadly poison would 

 to him who used it instead of healthful aliment, 

 — Common School Advocate, 



True glory consists in doing what deserves to 

 he written, writing what deserves to he read, and 

 making the world happier and better for having 

 lived in it. 



ledge ? There are men who have a partial 

 knowledge of these sciences, and we are among 

 the number of those who do not believe in the 

 old adtige, " A little knowledge does more harm 

 than good." That man is scientific who is mas- 

 ter of his trade, understands all its principles 

 and practices, or is master of his profession, he 

 it teacher of languages or mathematics. So 

 much for practical scientific attainments. And 

 now what shall we say regarding more know- 

 ledge than merely comes within the scope of a 

 man's business and profession? We have every 

 thing to say that is favorable. The more know- 

 ledge a man possesses, he is more likely to be a 

 belter citizen and member of society. Ignorance 

 degrades, knowledge elevates. 



How much pleasure would a shoemaker de- 

 rive from being acquainted with the principles 

 of the steam engine, or the mysteries of chemis- 

 try ? He could not turn to the right or to the 

 left, in the course of a short walk, without hav- 

 ing his mind attracted to something interesting 

 and useful, and calculated to draw his mind 

 from the drudgeries of his own occupation, 

 which, we regret to say, often excites our sym- 

 pathies as we believe shoemakers are not so 

 well paid for their labor as they shou d he. And 

 with regard to chemical science, it would leach 

 many of them to labor in better ventilated apart- 

 ments, than they in general do. How much 

 pleasure would a tailor, or any other tradesman, 

 enjov, if he possessed some knowledge of geolo- 

 gy : it makes no matter how little it may he at 

 first, — it is of so attractive and pleasurable a na- 

 ture, that " the little leaven would soon leaven 

 the whole lump." If he takes a walk into the 

 fields, he is delighted not only with the prospec- 

 tive beauties of nature, but with its wonders too. 

 The mute rocks speak to him in a well-known 

 tongue, and the pebbles by the river-side chant 

 to him the song of mountain rill and cataract, 

 lie may lift up a grain of the carburet of iron, 

 and his mental eye sees it in the pencil of the 

 artist, sketching the outlines of some immortal 

 work of art. He may lift from beneath his feet 

 H crystal of the magnetic oxide, of iron, and his 

 mental eye may figure it transformed into the 

 pen of the statesman or author; or into the 

 sword of the warrior, or the husbandman's 

 ploughare of peace. He may lift up a blackish 

 brown powder from beneath his feet, and to oth- 

 ers it would be as an idle tale ; but his menial 

 eye can trace the chrotnate of iron adorning, in 

 orange or gold colors, the turban of the Tartar 

 or the scarf of the fair. Did space permit, we 

 might here branch out into a most interesting 

 and instructive field; hut it is as well, perhaps, 

 that we cannot do so at present, and we believe 

 that it is far better to present objects to make 

 others think, than to deal with subjects in such 

 a manner as to prevent them from thinking. — 

 Selected. 



John Quincy Adams. — A life of this distinguish- 

 ed man, by Ex Governor W. H. Seward of New 

 York, has just been published. The last scene 

 of his life is thus impressively described in it: 



"He could not shake off the dews of death 

 that gathered on his brow. He could not pierce 

 the thick shades that rose before him. But he 

 knew that eternity lay close by the shores of 

 time. He knew that his Redeemer lived. Elo- 

 quence, even in that hour, inspired him with his 

 ancient sublimity of utterance. 'This,' said the 

 dying man, ' is the last of earth !' He paused 

 for a moment, and then added, 'I am content !' 

 Angels might well draw aside the curtains of the 

 skies to look down on such a scene." 



