188 



THE FARMER'S MONTHLY VISITOR 



December, 1842. 



hy ii reliiiion, 4(50 arics of hind; sellled liiinsell 

 upon it mid iimnied, with the prospei^ts nl' loiif> 

 lite .iiid prosperity, — ^o lar well; liiit he soon 

 round tliiit he possL-ssed too iiiiich land; iind to 

 attempt to eidiivate it all, would be to m:ike n 

 toil ol' II pleasure; instead then, of cultivating a 

 pait, ami allowinitthe leniaiuderto lie in a state 

 of iialine, until he ini^ht require it, during which, 

 it wnuld hriiif.' Iiini no retinn, as "land pays no 

 profit,"' he wisely determined to sell the giealei 

 portion, and lend the purchase money at G per 

 cent, interest, to that portion of the land which 

 he should reserve, lie therefore disposed of 300 

 acres for nearly the sum which he paid for the 

 whole ; devoted his energies to the 1(50 acres re- 

 maining, which now form a snug farm siirroun- 

 diiiir his hon«e. of almost unexampled heaiilvand 

 richness, the oapilal invested, enahliug liim'todo 

 all that he might ui^li in tlie way of improvius 

 his land, &ci:, lo the iitmi>st ; so that if he be de'^- 

 sirous of obtaining improved machinery, an in- 

 creased quantity of manure or assistance in the 

 way of extra culture, he has the means of procu- 

 ring it at his finger's end. The consequence is, 

 he feels himself above his woi 1< ; his labours are 

 perlurined in seas(iii, ami his mind, relieved from 

 an.xiety, is easy, and his lempei- pleasant; a state 

 of things plainly disciriiable among the members 

 of his family, wiihin doors and without. His 

 serv.uits are respectliil ami obliging in their man- 

 ners, and serve him with fenr, — but it is with 

 fear to offend. But when 1 think of his fire-side 

 comliirls, I feel more than 1 can express, for you 

 must Unow that 1 am a bachelor of many years' 

 standing, and have never Unoun, in reality, the 

 true meaning of a stale, for which the French 

 language has no term by which to express it, 

 namely, yjre-SiWf comfort. Nor does it appear to 

 me, that a fire-side in town can ever be compara- 

 ble to one in the country, wheie so much of the 

 happiness of a family de|ienilson the individuals 

 composing the magic circle, — but this is a tender 

 subject, and 1 coiifes.s my inability to handle it. 

 Suriice it to say, it there be a paradise on earth, 

 my friend has Ibiind it ; and in the society of as 

 IJiir and lovely a helpmate as iii'ed be wishe<l for 

 the solace of man, niav he lnii;r live and enjoy ii. 

 The land is divided' into eight fields of twenty 

 acres each ; the ro.id leading to the house, sepa- 

 nilinu' lliein into fimr fields on the right, and four 

 t\c\i\< (HI llie left : nnil into eai-h of these and over 

 alinnst till- whcle, he has a view from his sitting 

 room windou, the house standing on an eini- 

 neiiip, with trees at the back, but none immedi- 

 ately in front ; ;i verandah, the whole length of 

 the house, Ibrming a shade titr preferable to that 

 aflorded by trees. These eight fields give the 

 opportunity of adopting a rotation of crops, and 

 a mode of mainigeiiient so simple and easy of 

 accomplishment, that his labors seem to be re- 

 duced one half; while the custom which he has 

 adopted, of hiring e.Mia help at hay-time and har- 

 vest, as well as on oilier pressing occasions, 

 leaves him so much leisure, ili;it he has time for 

 ob.-ervati(.n and rcileciin,, am! the cultivation of 



the mind, which enables liin ike a.lvantage of 



the sras.a.s, and In look forward at 

 wonderful eflect. His -rand seci 

 meiit, as he terms it, is to be ever 

 kind of dres.sing on his fields, to eii.ible him to 

 double his crop.s, now thai he has reduced the 

 iiunibei of his acres; to this end, he is always on 

 the alert to liirn every thing into msinure ; the 

 burning of weeds and hassocks, with any rough 

 brush, and the corn-stubs of his twenty acres, 

 afiiiidiiig the means of dressing his compost- 

 he.ips with ashes to a very great amount and at 

 trifling cost; while a nnick-liole at the exirenfity 

 of the estate is a never failing mine, from whence, 

 in the shape of hundreds of loads of vegetable 

 deposite, he is coining old gold : every field having 

 its compost-heap in difierent degrees of prepara- 

 tion, ready to go abroad at the time appointed : 

 having rigidly adopted the plan of never carrying 

 on the fields the manure from the cattle yard, biit 

 using it as an ingredient of primary importance 

 in the formation of his compost-henps, which are 

 repeatedly turned over and thoroughly pulverized 

 before they are s(iread ; lime foriiiing a great 

 proportion, after fermentation in the manure, 

 &c., has nearly past, and a proper degree of de- 

 com|.-osition has taken place, but not until then : 

 the lime for this purpose having been slacked 

 long before, and become mild or effete. And 

 iJiess dre.osings are given to t\ios« crojm intended 



.1 with 



inage- 

 '. some 



for cattle, as well as to corn, (but never to other 

 grain crops,) in the greate.st profusion, without 

 fear for the result. Forty acres, or two fields of 

 20 acres each, are kept in permanent grass, to be 

 brought under culture at the end ofSorS years; 

 a like proportion of the arable portion being laid 

 down the year before these are broken up ; — 

 these meadows in the mean time being drest as 

 often and as heavily as possible during their lime 

 of rest, by which he is enabled to take two crops 

 of hay, or three cuttings (or soiling, every sum- 



Tliis happy old man was so wise and knowini 



The worth of liis time he Itnsw. 

 He brtsU;;d his ends, and he kept Uiem poing. 

 And felt to each moinewt a stitch was owing, 

 Until he got round the shoe. 



■ deed that his wax V 



, and true to the 1 



Willi s< nile and skilful hand 

 He look Its priipnrtions, with looks of pleasure, 

 .Vs if ynii w rrt- ^living the cosllie.^t treasure. 



Or diilibui^ him lord of the land. 



And many .t »ine did he save from getting 



A f( v;-r, or ciild, or cough ; 

 For inaiu- .i foiit did he save from wetting, 

 Wht-n, \\U III. r in u ali^r or snow *twas setting, 



ills li , Ml umiiI I k,-iplhem oir. 





iigl. as a 



A Night in a Coffin. 



We were in the Uiissell Glover, on her pas- 

 sage from X.w York to this place. The night 

 was bcuntiliil, and the gallant vessel ploughed licr 

 golileii path over the bosom of the star-studded 

 sea, as gracefiillv as the bcdie when she trips the 

 ball room floor." One old lady, after communing 

 will) the blue .vaters for iiboiit an hour, broke 

 out in a phreiizy of gratitude after the following 

 manner. " Weil," said she, looking obliquely at 

 the swelling sails, " 1 don't believe that we're ago- 

 ing more than two hours a knot this blessed 

 night ; but only to ihiuk of the goodness of Prov- 

 sea and puttin' 



Ires 



This philiisiiphiial obsirvatimi caused a gen- 

 eral liuigh, and Socrates in petiicoats played the 

 snarling cynic during the rest of the evening. — 

 \ group of US were gathered around a small ta- 

 ble in the gentleman's cabin, each one telling his 

 quota of " hair breadth 'scapes," and adventures 

 by flood and field. We were then in the Gulf 

 Stream just abreast of Havana, uiul that fact be- 

 ing casually remarked, one of the passengers who 

 bad not smiled during the whole evening, took 

 his cigar out of his mouth, and stiid he " wished 

 to contribute his share to the amusements of the 

 evening." 



" Silence ! Attention all," was the cry. 



" In 1827, business called me to the city we are 

 just now passing. I had been there not more 

 than three wnks, uhen I found my.self attacked 

 by that most dreadful of all scourge.s, the small 

 pox. I had every attention that care or the kind- 

 ness of slraiigers could bestow; but in spite of 

 all, at the end of five days, the attendant physi- 

 cian gave me up fiir lost. Until this lime I iiad 

 never thought of death, but when this intelligence 

 reached me, I clung more eagerly to life than 

 ever. The million rays of the llioughts that 

 rushed with their swift wings ihrongh my bewil- 

 dereil brain, fl>rnied one grand focus, and that 

 was life ! And I hail a right to live, gentlemen, 

 for but a few moiitha before 1 had married a young 

 girl, and she and her aged mother were entirely 

 dependant upon me for support. On the even- 

 ing of the si.vth d.iy, I recollect that I dreamed of 

 my wife at home, and all that on earth was dear 

 to me. Then I sunk into a sweet sleep, and then 

 existence seemed to be blotted from my mind. 

 There \vn.s one senBation tliat I recollect, howev- 



er, and that was ji feeling of darkiie.ss. All was 

 a black, monotonous void, and the first return of 

 ai)proachiug life was made known to me by a 

 coldness that seemed to enter every pore of'my 

 system. 1 opened my eyes, and my fir.st thought 

 was that 1 was blind, 'fbr"l knew that this distress- 

 ing atiliciion is often the product of this disease. 

 Then I threw my arms upwards, and from some 

 obstacle they were again thrown heavily upon 

 my breast. I felt encompassed on all sides by a 

 warm, moist wall of wood— suddenly all iny 

 senses came to me in their full vigor— I recollect- 

 ed that I had smelt something like that which I 

 tlien iiilialed whenever I stood by the dead — the 

 big drops of perspiration stood iipon mv brow, 

 and in an instant the horrid thought flashed upon 

 me. that / (crts in my coffin ! Oh God! I may 

 have >imi,d : but that one thought was enough 

 to li.nc ii'|iaid ,1 life of crime! Perhaps I was 

 ill my giMM>— ilmvn ilcep in the irroiind, and I 

 lecollected that 1 had heard of men being buried 

 in pits — laid crosswise and lengthwise of each 

 other, and that wIkmi they had decayed, tlitir 

 bones were used for manure. A thousand such 

 thoughts as these flashed quicker than the light- 

 ning across my tortured brain, and with oim; mad 

 shriek 1 sprung upwards, and there was light ! 



" I looked around and in a moment or two I 

 discovered that I was in a church. Candles 

 were burning on the decorated idtarpiece, and 

 pictures of the Crucifixion and the Virgin and 

 her child, and other scriptural incidents hung 

 upon the walls. I heard a shriek, and turning 

 quickly about, I saw an old priest near me, who, 

 with outstretched arms, pallid fiice, and chatter- 

 ing teelh, seemed to be the very personification 

 of fear. I a|)proaclied hiiri, but'he retreated, and 

 holding u() a cross, cried out: 



"' En ,d iiombre de Dios ! qiiicn es el ?' 



" I quickly assured him uf my being a man of 

 flesh and blond like liimseli; altliough' at first he 

 did not seem dis|iosid to believe me, and then 

 he relati'd lo me how I had been supposed to be 

 dead ; that 1 was brought to the church by my 

 friends about l()iir hours before, and that at day- 

 light the next morning, had it not been for the 

 iiitirposition of I he Holy Mother, near whose 

 picture my coffin stood, 1 would have been in the 

 biirv iiig ground. 



" .And now, gentlemen," added the recitor of 

 this thrilling advenlnre, " if any of you have come 

 nearer lo Davy Jmies than that, why let me know, 

 and I'll stand treat (or the party, "including the 

 old lady who was grateful (or salt having been 

 put ill tile water in order that it might be kept 

 fre.=!h !"— .V. O. Tropic. 



Subsoiling, Draining and Irrigation in Eng- 

 land. 



The advantageous effects of draining upon 

 wet soils, must be just as great as the injurious 

 effects of too much water; while the good effects 

 of irrigation and warping— both merely systems 

 of applying weak lirpiid manure in large quanti- 

 ties— and of the snbsdil plough, as an instrument 

 by which the water is permitted to diffuse itself 

 more generally through, and the atmosphere to 

 act upon the tcii.icioiis subsoil, so as to make a 

 change, as il wire, in the general character of the 

 compiiiiiiit paits of the soil, may be philosophi- 

 cally demonstrated ; but this is unnecessary, for 

 we have proof positive in millions of ticres be- 

 fore our e^es. Thus the fens of Lincolnshire, 

 Huntingdon, and Cambridgeshire, which !50 years 

 ago were stagnant marshes, are now luxuriant 

 pastures. 200,000 acres of the Lincolnshire fens 

 liave thus been reclaimed, and in other counties 

 many thousHiids more, while 2.5,000 acres of the 

 single feii of neepiiig are drained by two engines 

 of (iO and 80 horse power! Chat Moss, u yawn- 

 ing morass in 18"20, is now a golden grain-field 

 with incipient villas; while the several state- 

 ments of Me.ssrs Dennison, Craft, Graham, &c., 

 exhibit a change from steriliiy to fertility, and af- 

 ford practical evidence of tiie value of the [ler- 

 manciit Improvements produced by draining, 

 warping, irri^zalion and subsoil ploughing, which 

 are iimIIv illiistr.itions of what these operations 

 are iloiiig for all ; the general results being, that 

 wheal in these counties is no longer a hixiiry 

 confii.ed to the rich— it is now the staff of the 

 poor man's strength- the quaking morass and 

 the arid moor now wave with the golden grain 

 and the acre which once gave back only four 

 times tlie seed, now returns fr»m eight te ten 



