104 



THE LANCASTER FARMER. 



[July 



If a portion of a snail's shell be broken away 

 the gap can be effectually mended in point of 

 thickness. But the coloring matter will be 

 cither wholly or partially absent, and so there 

 will be a gap iu the pattern. The whole sub- 

 ject of the coloring of shells is a very interest- 

 ing one, but it penetrates too deeply into the 

 arcana of chemistry and optics to be suitable 

 for the present jiaper. The same may be said 

 of the snail's blood. Any one, however, who 

 wishes to investigate this subject, will find 

 that the researches of the President of the 

 Geological Society, Dr. H. C. Sorby, have 

 cleared away many of the difliculties which 

 surrounded this subject. Tliis same distin- 

 guished investigator told me that the azure 

 hue of the snail's blood and tint of the sky 

 were both owing to the same cause, i. c, that 

 certain constituents of that blood and of air 

 absorbed the red and yellow rays of light but 

 allowed the bhie rays to pass almost unaltered. 

 Some of the mollusks have opalescent blood, 

 and in this case the colored rays are irregu- 

 larly absorbed or rejected. 



^ 



HOW THE OCEANS WERE MADE. 

 It has- been commonly assumed that the 

 water of the ocean was orignally fresh, and 

 that it became gradually Salter as the rivers 

 carried down to it the salts held in solution. 

 Mr. H. N. Moselly, in a recent lecture be- 

 fore the London Royal Institution, thinks 

 that even the primitive sea must have been 

 highly charged with saline matter of all kinds. 

 When the earth was still intensely heated, 

 the whole of the water now on its surface 

 must have been present as gas in its atmos- 

 phere, at first no doubt disassociated ; but 

 afterward an aqueous vapor. Since if the sea- 

 bottom and continents were smoothed down 

 to a uniform level, the sea would still suffice 

 to cover the entire earth to a depth of over 

 one thousand fathoms, aqueous vapor equal 

 to a layer of water of that thickness must 

 have existed in the atmosphere, and have 

 produced a pressure of more than a ton to 

 the square inch at the earth's surface. To 

 this pressure must have been added that pro- 

 duced by all the other vapors with which the 

 primitive atmosphere must have been filled. 

 As the earth cooled the water condensed on 

 the coolest spots from time to time, boiled 

 and rose as vapor again. Mr. Moselly con- 

 jectiu'es that tlie first water formed on the 

 earth's surface may have been even as hot as 

 molten castirou. At last permanent seas were 

 established. The water of these, heated to 

 an intensely high temperature under great 

 pressure, must have dissolved salts in al)un- 

 dance from the freshly consolidated earth's 

 crust, and being constantly in a state of 

 ebullition as the pressure diminished at the 

 surface witli the growth of the seas, or the 

 temperature of the earth's surface varied in 

 different places, must have taken up vast 

 quantities of rock matter in suspension, and 

 become thickly charged with volcanic mud. 

 Intensely hot rain must have fallen on tlie 

 land and washed down more salts and mud 

 into the sea. The whole ocean must have 

 consisted of a vnst ma.ss of seetiiing mud. It 

 must have required a protracted period for 

 the ocean to become clear, and for its deposit, 

 which was perhaps something like the present 

 deep-sea red nnul, to settle, and possibly the 

 deeper water long remained uninhabitable, 

 being overcharged with various gases and 

 suspended mud. 



GOOD WORDS FOR THE SKUNK. 



A fuller acquaintance with the habits of 

 the skunk would lead us to consider it one of 

 our most valuable friends. We make our 

 first acquaintance with it, however, through 

 the sense of smell, or the death of young 

 chickens and ducks, of which the skunk is 

 very fond. The intense odor of the skunk is 

 oppressive, and it makes its presence known 

 in a way that is unique and searching. While 

 the fragrance of the skuTik is sui generis and 

 overpowering, it is not damaging as that from 

 sewers and sinks and neglected potato bins 

 and cabbage pits. Judging the latter from 



odor alone, they must be condemned more 

 surely than the odoriferous skunk. We know 

 the uses of potatoes and cabbages, and think 

 of their good qualities. But not so with the 

 skunk. Let us see if we cannot afford to 

 endure them on the farm, and allow them an 

 occasional chicken or a duck for a change of 

 diet. The skunk is pre-eminently an insecti- 

 vorous animal. He diligently pursues his 

 calling at night when insects are most abun- 

 dant, and, when his enemies, dogs and men, 

 are asleep. He devours even the Colorado 

 potato-bug (decem-lineata,) and finds a rich 

 morsel in the strawberry-grub (laclionestra.) 

 He makes hearty meals on cut-worms, and 

 gorges himself with white grubs, the larvre of 

 the May beetle, which he roots after in the 

 loose sod, or the decaying hay or straw about 

 stack-yards. He plows through the litter and 

 leaves gathered in the nooks and corners of 

 the fields, which are the coverts and breed- 

 ing-places of the myriads of chinch bugs. He 

 reaches millions of enemies in secluded places 

 which man cannot reach with the plow, or 

 rake, or fire. We may clear the litter and 

 trash from our fields, but the corners and 

 fence-rows harbor the enemy we try to de- 

 stroy. A kind providence has sent to our aid 

 this half-domestic animal tliat seems to in- 

 crease like the Norway rat in populated dis- 

 tricts, and for the common reason that his 

 food is more abundant there. We wish we 

 could see some like compensation in the pres- 

 ence of the rat, but science has not yet re- 

 vealed it, and American civilization has not, 

 like Chinese, found use for it. The skunk, 

 unlike the rat, pays as he goes, . We can 

 afford to take care of the chickens and ducks 

 and let skunks multiply. Build the walls of 

 our porches and dwellings so the skunks can- 

 not get under them, and they will keep at 

 such a distance from our homes as not to 

 ofiend us. The old Greek motto, " Know 

 thyself," is a good one, and it suggests a good 

 one for us, "Farmer, know thy friends." — 

 Cincinnati Commercial. 



ANIMAL INTELLIGENCE. 



A correspondent of the New York Evening 

 Post writes : 



More than forty years ago ray father's 

 clearing, near what is now the city of Guelph, 

 was surrounded for many miles by an almost 

 unbroken forest, where leeks, cow-cabbage, 

 and the spring foliage of young maples and 

 basswood supplied abundant food for cattle. 

 At that time it was my fortune or misfortune 

 to drive a yoke of oxen, "Golden" and 

 "Spark" by name, who, at sunset, were 

 turned into the bush with the rest of the 

 herd. Morning found the cows near home ; 

 but very rarely on working days were the 

 oxen with them. " With many a weary step 

 and many a groan " has the Writer Inmted 

 the sly absentees and found them usually in 

 some dense thicket on the edge of an inter- 

 minable swamp. On Sunday mornings they 

 came home with tlie cows and lay down in 

 the barnyard with the calm confidence born 

 of a clear conscience and assured rest. On 

 six mornings in the week they almost always 

 hid tliemselves ; on the seventh they returned 

 witli the herd. How did they know the 

 Christian day of rest except by actual count 

 of the intervening days ? 



" Spark " was a consummate hypocrite and 

 genius withal. I grieve to say he was the 

 most breachy brute in the tovraship, and his 

 code of morals was strictly Spartan or com- 

 mercial ; his sense of sin being awakened not 

 by liis wickedness, but by the discovery of it. 

 With head and foot tied together he used to 

 plant his " head's antipodes" against a fence 

 — not for the sake of scratching "where'er 

 he did itch," but with the fell purpose, too 

 often successful, by direct pressure and 

 thumping, to break down the barrier between, 

 himself and a paradise of growing oats or 

 wheat in the car. Peace to his memory 1 He 

 made good beef. 



"In 1835 a neighbor living about three miles 

 away bought a cow at the half-yearly Guelph 

 cattle fair. A few evenings afterward the 



purchaser, hearing a tinkle of the cracked 

 cow-bell, sent his ten-year-old barefooted 

 Polly to bring Daisy home. Entering the 

 dense gloom of the solemn old forest, Polly 

 lost her bearing, and found her cow. Grasp- 

 ing the tail of Daisy she hurried her captive 

 liomeward ; but Impelled by a sudden impulse 

 to visit the home of her childhood, Daisy led 

 the child a weary night-walk through swamp 

 and upland. Sagacious Polly retained her 

 hold, and the next morning was safely landed 

 at the shanty of Daisy's former owner, hav- 

 ing walked at least fourteen miles, barefoot, 

 in the dead of night, through an unbroken 

 forest. Polly was comforted with warm, new 

 milk and brown bread, and was soon nestling 

 among straw in an ox cart, with Daisy tied 

 behind, and Hans driving her liome, where 

 they arrived in the afternoon to find the set- 

 tlers, for miles around, with tin horns and 

 dustpans, scouring the woods in .search of the 

 missing child. When asked if she was hun- 

 gry in the night she said, "Oh, no! I just 

 coaxed Daisy to stop, and milked into my 

 mouth." 



Now, a pig will find its way tor miles to an 

 old haunt, but, like Sennacherib, he always 

 turns back by the way that he came. Daisy 

 had traveled east to Guelph, thence south to 

 Polly's. By what fi^culty was she able to 

 strike a bee-line through a pathless forest 

 from her new home to her old home V 



BOSTON BAKED BEANS. 



Though Boston has acquired some fame as 

 a large consumer of this esculent, baked beans 

 have been from time immemorial a 

 favorite di.sh throughout New England. The 

 sturdy men and women of generations ago, 

 who braved dangers and hardships in plant- 

 ing an independent colony, added strength 

 to their sinews and muscles by eating a simple 

 food, of which baked beans were a mucli che- 

 riished ingredient, and of all ancient aishes 

 none have stood better the test of time and the 

 caprices of the appetites of the people. But it 

 is a little singular that while New England is 

 so large a consumer of baked beans, and New 

 Euglanders, more especially the residents of 

 Boston, have acquired the mystery of cook- 

 ing them perfectly, the dish is not in much 

 favor elsewhere, and that the knowledoje of 

 baking them properly is exceedingly limited. 

 It may be said that one circumsstance is due 

 to the other — that is, that wliere it is not 

 known how to bake beans properly, they are 

 naturally not a popular article of diet. If 

 the method and process of baking were 

 patented, it could hardly be more exclusively 

 held by New Englanders. In New York and 

 other municipalities, a contempt is often ex- 

 pressed for the Athenian love for baked beans, 

 and yet not long ago a fashionable club house, 

 on tiie occasion of a special gathering, sent by 

 express to this city for 20 two-quart pots of 

 Boston baked beans. This manner of obtain- 

 ing a dish they affect to despise is frequently 

 resorted to, undoubtedly with profit alike to 

 the buyer and seller. An experienced baker 

 of this city, being asked why baked beans were 

 not as popular in New York as in Boston, 

 said : "Because they don't know how to cook 

 them. They don't soak them enough, boil 

 them too much, and then take them out of 

 the oven before they are half baked." "But 

 it would be easy enough for them to learn how 

 to cook them." "Well, if it is, they don't 

 learn. That much I know. " 



There is a lunch counter in one of the 

 busiest sections of New York wliere genuine 

 Boston baked beans are served, which is re- 

 ported to be doing a thriving business. Travel- 

 ers in the West and South have noticed in 

 the windows of restaurants in cities and towns 

 placards announcing Boston baked beans, but 

 on entering and eating a dish, find but little 

 resemblance between it and the "home arti- 

 cle." Custom has prescribed either Saturday 

 night or Sunday morning as the "correct 

 time " for eating baked beans, and the scene 

 at the baker's then is the busiest of the week. 

 Among the hundreds of bakers in the city 

 there are but few who do not "put to soak" 



