158 



J!9EW ENGLAND FARMER. 



Afrtl 



which they are quickly and intimately mixed, and 

 the trees and plants sj-ringed with the clear liquid 

 after these substances have settled at the bot- 

 tom. 



For the New Ens^land Farmer. 

 RURAL PLEASURES. 



ifherc is, perhaps, no situation in life which 

 affords greater facilities for enjoyment, than that 

 of the husbandman. Exempt firom the many cares 

 which throng the pathway of the professional 

 man, the farmer finds ample opportunity to culti- 

 vate his mind and expand his intellect, and even 

 whila.. engaged in labor, may still be a learner 

 from the great book of Nature. As the plow- 

 share turns the sods, his eye wanders over the rich 

 landscape, and, in the meandering streams, the 

 wood-crowned hills and smiling vales, he traces 

 the finger of God. The glory of the spring-time 

 is not by him unheeded. He sees with delight 

 the delicate verdure, mantling in beauty the awak- 

 ening earth — he views with pleasure the fair pet- 

 als of innumerable blossoms as they unfold to the 

 genial sunbeams, and he feels upon his cheek, the 

 soft breeze which is laden with their balmy per- 

 fume. Fur him, the minstrels of heaven have a 

 song of joy, and all nature seems hymning an an- 

 them of praise. Gladly the farmer greets the 

 spring-time, and witli a light heart prepares his 

 fields, and sows the tiny seed, which will yet yield 

 a glorious autumn offering. No feverish escita- 

 raent disturbs his placid life — no wild dreams of 

 fame and glory — no ambitious schemes, whose 

 bright hopes gleam for a space^ then fade in dark- 

 ness away. His course is before him — simple and 

 plain — peace and contentment are the inmates of 

 his breast. Day after day beholds him at his 

 healthful toil, and fortune smiles upon him. His 

 table boasts few foreign luxuries, but fair plenty is 

 ever there, and the viands produced by his own 

 care are partaken of with a relish which the epi- 

 cure might envy. Home is to the husbandman a 

 delightful spot. Care flees from his fireside and 

 the evening hours are spent in calm converse or 

 innocent glee. When night's sombre curtains, 

 enfold the earth, he finds a sweet repose, for toil 

 has lent "a blissful zest to slumber." How many 

 young men who now forsake their rural homes, 

 and seek the crowded city, would escape the 

 snares of the tempter and shun the cup of sorrow, 

 if they remained upon the peaceful farms of their 

 fathers. e. c. l. 



Lebanon, Ct. 



The American Crab Apple.— The American 

 Crab apple is found in the Southern and Middle 

 Atlantic States and as far North as New York : 

 and at the west as far north as Wisconsin. When 

 in bloom we have found the forest for a consider- 

 able distance delightfully perfumed by a single 

 wild tree ; — decidedly the finest perfume to be 

 found among American Trees and Shrubs, so far 

 as we know. AVe should prefer it decidedly, as 

 an ornamental tree, to the common Siberian Crab : 

 and, as it grows in about our latitude at the West, 

 should suppose that it might be introduced here. 

 We are prompted to this notice by seeing the 

 fruit figured in the New England Farmer. Why 

 is it not found on any of our nursery catalogues? 

 Anonymoxis. 



From the New England Farmer. 

 SOUTHERN SPRING. 



[Extract of a letter liatei) Columbia, S. C, March 5, 1853.] 



Dear Sir : — The spring is not a forward one 

 here ; the plums, poaches and straw^jerries are in 

 blossom, still the weather is cool. The planters 

 are about planting tlieir corn ; some fields are al- 

 ready planted, and many others will be the com- 

 ing week. The trees are beginning to put out 

 their young leaves, and in a week or two we shall 

 have spring in earnest. To-day we have had quite 

 a snow storm, which lasted several hours, (the 

 first snow this season,) but it soon disappeared. 



I am glad that the good work of progress goes 

 bravely on with you in the old Bay State. I hope 

 that old Middlesex will not falter in her onward 

 course, but will keep up with the times, and offer 

 such inducements to her noble sons as to secure 

 their best efforts for improvement in every branch 

 of agricultural science, and in everything connect- 

 ed with mother earth. 



Yours truly, Solon Dike, 



Remarks. — We received the above on the morn- 

 ing of the 15th, and the night previous ice made 

 half an inch thick in our dwelling, and the wind 

 blew what the sailors call half a gale. The roads, 

 which were all mud when the wind began, were 

 soon "stiff as the ribs of death," in all their rough 

 ugliness, and whe-u-uu, how every thing cracked 

 again I 



For the New England Farmer. 

 PLOWS. 



To the former who tills but few acres it is quite 

 an event to get a new plow. If he gets the right 

 one, he may follow it a score of years rejoicing in 

 its good works. If the wrong one, he may endure 

 it with vexation much longer than he ought. In 

 short, it is a time well worthy of a confab with 

 friends and neighbors ; so I take the liberty to 

 write to my friend the editor. The plow now 

 wanted, is a plow for "old land," as we fiirmers 

 call it, that is, land that was planted last year. — 

 Our Agricultural Societies seem to have strangely 

 neglected this part of the plowing business, and 

 in consequence or not in consequence, the improve- 

 ments in pilows for this work seem to have pro- 

 gressed somewhat in the style of the truant's jour- 

 ney to school that slippery morn, viz., two steps 

 back and one forward. 



The improved plow described by Mr. Ilolbrook 

 two years since may be just the thing want- 

 ed (though I am afraid it is more the thing for 

 light, pliable soils than for our stiff, stony lands) 

 but otherwise I think there has been no plow 

 made for old land equal to the old-fashioned iron 

 plows made twenty or thirty years ago — sliort, 

 wide behind and liigh beam. I recollect one of 

 that pattern, I often held when a boy; there was 

 no maker's name on it, but "Boston Iron Co.," on 

 the casting, and in truth it was rather an awk- 

 ward looking concern, but out in the last year's 

 corn and potato field, it did its work up in a style 

 hard to be improved. Throwing the soil aside 

 with a clean furrow — seldom or never clogging — 

 not easily thrown out of its true path by every 

 malicious pebble lying in ambush, but burying the 

 litter and manure all under and leaving the plowed 



