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interrupted now and then by the startling clarion of 

 paternal Shanghai, or an authoritative gobbling of pomp- 

 ous turkey ; and the scent of the apple blossoms ; the 

 balmy fragrance of clover fields and the spicy perfume of 

 the new-mown hay ; make an air of paradise for the 

 farmer, under the dewy shadows of the ancient trees, 

 that scatter new beauty around them as they bend 

 lovingly over the old farm house and the Avell filled barns. 

 There are but few, indeed, who do not cherish with me 

 in a secret corner of their hearts, a lingering love of the 

 farmer's life, and of the farm, the fostering mother of so 

 many of us, and the kind feeder of us all. Even the 

 great and prosperous merchant there, is glad to look at 

 times farmward, and rejoices to leave his ships, his 

 wharves, and his close and gloomy counting room, with 

 its day book and legerj its cash book and bank book, and 

 breathe the free country air, and scent the breath of 

 opening blossoms and new-mown hay ; and often, as he 

 sits uneasily in his chair, he indulges in visions of a fair 

 and happy time in the future, when he shall spend the 

 pleasant summer hours in his own garden, gay with the 

 flowers he has planted, and stroll beneath the bending 

 boughs of his richly burdened fruit trees, his own pecu- 

 liar Eden. And the poorest mechanic, and humblest 

 laborer, too, in whose heart nature yet throbs, longs for 

 his little fertile acre, and dreams of a sunny cottage, 

 garlanded with vines, and of a patch gay Avith fair blos- 

 soms and bounteous of fruits, sweeter, that his own hands 

 have tilled the soil, and tenderly fostered and trained the 

 beneficent trees. This passion for the country and the 

 fields, and love of dear nature, however scoffed at, 

 however hidden and buried by worldliness and avarice, 

 never quite dies out of the heart ; and I heard, lately, 

 of a hard, severe man, whose whole narrow life had been 

 worn away in the mere pursuit and accumulation of 



