1853, 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



21 



Rev. Mr. Fitch remarked that the dry season 

 begins in June, and continues to November. It 

 rarely occurred, during that time, that they had 

 any rain ; neither were there any dews. In refer- 

 ence to the certainty of the dry season being unin- 

 terrupted, Mr. Shelton related an instance in which 

 he had seen hundreds of acres of barley and oats 

 which had been cut down, and let lie in swaths on 

 the ground for two months, without injury. Mr. 

 Dye related an instance, near Sacramento city, 

 where three crops of wheat were taken, without 

 any second plowing or sowing; — the first crop pro- 

 duced 50 bushels to the acre, the second 30 to 40 

 bushels, and the third crop from 20 to 30 bushels. 

 He considered that there was as large a proportion 

 of arable land in California as in the State of New 

 York. Mr. Shelton stated that Horner & Beard 

 had inclosed four leagues (4,400 and odd Acres to 

 the league) with an iron fence. He had walked 

 one fenced field of 8 miles. 



Mr. Shelton said that he had frequently in his 

 room one dozen heads of cabbage, weighing from 

 50 to 60 pounds. One, a perfectly solid head, 

 weighed 56 pounds, and was seven feet in circum- 

 ference. He gave an instance of a spruce tree, 

 300 feet in height, and 50 feet in circumference. 



Of grapes, in California, ]Mr. Dye said they were 

 as good as those grown in this State. He did not 

 think they were indigenous, except in the moun- 

 tain districts, where he had met a small, sour de- 

 scription. Rev. ^Ir. Fitch said that the arable 

 land was about one-third in proportion. It was an 

 erroneous opinion that vegetation could not go on 

 without irrigation. Without irrigation, they could, 

 at all times, have one crop in the year ; and where 

 irrigation was introduced, vegetation went on 

 throughout the year. He had seen three crops 

 taken in the year. The oats grew wild, high and 

 thick, on the hills, and in the valleys. 



Mr. Shelton exhibited a California potato, over 

 a year out of ground. They grew to a very large 

 size, and were sweet and floury, when boiled. In 

 speaking of vegetables. Rev. Mr. Fitch remarked 

 that the vegetables of California were very supe- 

 rior for eating to those grown here. There, he 

 could make a meal of a turnip, or on potatoes ; 

 here he could not eat much of either with impuni- 

 ty. The beet was very fine, growing to an extra- 

 ordinary size, and was sweet, and uniform in color 

 to the centre, unlike the large beet grown here 

 which is often stringy. 



tility by any in the States, 

 crops so much less ? 



Why, then, are their 



13^ We notice by an article in the Canadian 

 Agriculturist, that the public debt of Canada was 

 $4,635,999, on the 1st of August last. 



By the same paper we observe that the aver- 

 age crop of wheat, per acre, in Upper Canada, is 

 nearly 15 bushels; barley, 21, rye, 12; peas, 

 15 ; oats, 26.^; buckwheat, 14.;|; Indian corn, 24 ; 

 potatoes, 64; turnips, 212. In Lower Canada, 

 where the acre is about one-seventh less than in 

 Upper Canada, the average crop is of wheat, 7 

 bushels; barley, 15; rye, 8; peas, 7; oats, 15; 

 buckwheat, 10 ; Indian corn, 18; potatoes, 60 ; 

 turnips, 95. 



This average is much less than that of our hard, 

 rocky New England soil. A portion of the soil 

 n Upper Canada is probably not surpassed in fer- 



CORN SONG. 



BY JOHN O. WHITTIER. 



Heap higk the farmer's wintry board ! 



Heap high the golden corn ! 

 No richer gift has autumn poured 



From out her lavish horn ! 



Let other lands exulting glean 



The apple from the pine. 

 The orange from its glassy green. 



The cluster from the vine. 



We better love the rugged gift 



Our rugged hills bestow, 

 To cheer us when the storm shall drift 



Our harvest fields with snow. 



Through vales of grass and meads of flovyera, 



Our plows their furrows made, 

 While on the hills the sun and showers 



Of changeful April played. 



We dropped the seed o'er hill and plain, 



Beneath the sun of May, 

 And frightened from our sprouting grain 



The robber crows away. 



All through the long, bright day of June, 



Its leaves grow bright and fair. 

 And waved in hot midsummer's noon, 



Its soft and yellow hair. 



And now, with Autumn's moonlit eyes, 



Its harvest time has come, 

 We pluck away its frosted leaves. 



And bear the treasure home. 



There, richer than the fabled gifts 



Apollo showered of old. 

 Fair hands the broken grain shall sift, 



And knend its meal of gold. 



Let vapid idlers loll in silk 



Around their costly board; 

 Give us the bowl of samp and milk. 



By homespun beauty poured. 



Where'er the wild old kitchen hearth 



Sends up its smoky curls. 

 Who will not thank the kindly earth. 



And bless our farmer girls ! 



Then shame on all the proud and vain, 



Whose folly laughs to scorn 

 The blessings of our hardy grain. 



Our wealth of golden corn. 



Let earth withhold her goodly root, 



Let mildew blight the rye, 

 Give to the worm the orchard's fruit, 



The wheat-field to the fly; 



But let the good old crop adorn 



The hills our fathers trod; 

 Still let us, for his golden corn. 



Send up our thanks to God ! 



A SIBERIAN WINTER. 



A traveller in Siberia, during the winter, is so en- 

 veloped in furs that he can scarcely move ; and 

 under the thick fur hood, which is fastened to the 

 bear-skin collar and covers the whole face, one can 

 only draw in, as it were by stealth, a little of the 

 external air, which is so keen that it causes a very 

 peculiar and painful feeling in the throat and lungs. 

 The distance from one halting place to another 

 takes about ten hours, during which time the trav- 

 eller must always continue on horse-back, as the 

 cumbrous dress makes it insupportable to wade 



