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NE\\^ ENGLAND FARMER, 



JANUARY a IX 9. 



(From Ihe Cullivator.) 



A LOOKING-GLASS. 

 J. BiEi., Esq.— 



Dear Sir — When I was a boy, I can well re- 

 member how I used to be induced to wash my 

 amulty face, by having a looking-glass held before 

 my eyes. For the same purpose, I have extracted 

 the following picture of " a farmer," from the wri- 

 tings of that most eccentric and excellent writer, 

 " Samuel Slick," in the hopea that if any of your 

 readers should happen to see any part of himself 

 therein, that he will improve by the view. Here 

 it is. 



" ■* * * That critter, when ho built that wrack of 

 a house, (they call 'cm a half liouse here,) intended 

 to add as much more to it some of these days, and 

 accordingly put his chimbley outside, to sarve the 

 new part as well as the old. He has been too 

 "busy" ever since, you see, to remove the hanking 

 put there the first fall, to keep the frost out of the 

 cellar, and consequently it has rotted the sills off, 

 and the house has fell away from the chimbley, 

 and he has had to prop it up with great sticks of 

 timber, to keep it from coining down on its knees 

 altogether. All the winders are boarded up, but 

 one, and that might as well be, for Tittle light can 

 penetrate them old hat;? and red flannel petticoats. 

 Look at the barn ; its broken back roof has let the 

 garble eends fall in, where they stand staring at 

 each other, as if they would like to come closer 

 together {and no doubt they soon will,) to consult 

 what was best to be done Ui gain tlieir standins; in 

 the world. Now look at the stock ; there's your 

 " improved short horns." Them dirty looking, half 

 starved geese, and them draggle-tiiled fowls that 

 are so poor the foxes would be ashamed to steal 

 them — thai, little lantern jawed, long leg'ed, rabbit 

 eared runt of a pig, that's so weak it can't curl its 

 tail up — that old cow frame standing tliere with 

 her eyes shut, and looking for all the world as tho' 

 she's contemplating her latter eend — (and with 

 good reason too,) and that other reddish yellow, 

 long wooled varmint, with his hocks higher than 

 his belly, that looks as if he had come to lier fune- 

 ral, and which by way of distinction, his owner 

 calls a horse — is all "the stock," I guess, that this 

 farmer supports upon a hundred acres of as good 

 natural soil as ever laid out door. Now there's a 

 specii.ien of "Native Stock." I reckoon he'l imi- 

 grate to a wanner climate soon, for you see while 

 he was waiting to finish that thing you see the hen's 

 roosting on, that he calls a sled, he's had to burn 

 up all the fence round the house, but there's no 

 danger of cattle breaking into his fields, and his 

 old muley has larnt how to sneak round among the 

 neighbors' fields o' nights, looking for an open gate 

 or bars, to snatch a mouthful now and then. For 

 if you was to mow that meadow with a razor and 

 rake it with a fine tootli comb, you could'nt get 

 enough to winter a grasshopper. 'Spose we drive 

 up to the door and have a word of chat with Nick 

 Bradshaw, and see if he is as promising as outside 

 appearances indicate. 



Observing us from the only light of glass remain- 

 ing in the window, Nick lifted the door and laying 

 it aside, emerged from his kitchen parlor and 

 smoke house, to reconnoitre. He was a tall, well 

 built, athletic man, of great personal strength and 

 surprising activity, who looked like a careless good 

 natured fellow, fond of talking, and from the ap- 

 pearance of the little black pipe which stuck in 

 one corner of his mouth, equally so of smoking ; 



and as he appeared to fancy us to be candidates, 

 1 no doubt ho was already enjoying in prospective 

 the comforts of a neighboring tap room. Just look 

 j at em — Happy critter —his hat crown has lost the 

 Ltop out, and the rim hangs like the bail of a bucket 

 His trowsers and jacket show clearly that he h.s 

 I had clothes o other colors in other days. The 

 untan'd inocasin on one foot, which contrasts with 

 the old shoe on the other, shows him a friend to 

 domestic manufactures ; and his beard is no bad 

 match for the wooly horse yonder. See the wag- 

 gish independ'.nt sort of a look the crit.er h-is, with 

 his hat on i.ne side and hands in his breeches pock- 

 ets, contemplating the beauties of his (arm. Vou 

 may talk about patie.ice and fortitude, philosophy 

 and chrisiian resignation, and all that sort of thing 

 till your tired, but — ah, here he comes. 'Morning 

 Mr Bradshaw — how's all home to-day ? Right 

 comfortable, (mark that — comfort in such a place,) 

 I give thanks — coino, light and come in. I'm sorry 

 can't feed your ho<s — but the fact is, tan't bin no 

 use to try to raise no cro])S, late years, for body 

 don't git half paid for their labor, these hard times. 

 1 raised a nice bunch of potatoes last year, and as 

 I could'nt get nothing worth while for 'em in the 

 fall, I tho't I'de keep 'e:T) till spring. But as frost 

 set in, while I was down town 'lection time, the 

 boys did'nt fix up the old eel ar door, and this in- 

 farnal cold winter Iroze 'em all. It's them what 

 you smell now, and I've just been telling the old 

 woman that we must turn too and carry them out 

 of the cellar, 'fore long they'll make some of us 

 sick like enough — fir there's no telling what may 

 happen to a body late years. And if the next leg- 

 islator don't do something for us, the Lord knows 

 but the whole country will starve, for it seems as 

 tho' the land now a days won't raise nothing. It's 

 actually run out. Why, I should tliink by tho look 

 of things round your neighbor Horton's that his 

 land produced pretty well. Why, yes — and it's a 

 miricle too, how he gets it — for every body round 

 here said, when he took up that tract, it was the 

 poorest in the town. There are some folks that 

 thinks he has dealings with the "black art," for't 

 does seem as tho' the more he work'd his land, the 

 better it got. 



Now, here was a mystery — but an easy explana- 

 tion of Mr Slick soon solved the matter, at least to 

 my mind. The fact is, says Mr Slick, agieatdeal 

 of this country is run out. And if it warnt for the 

 lime, marsh-mud, sea weed, salt sand, and what not, 

 they've got here in such quantities, and a few Hor- 

 ton's toNipply it, the whole country would run out 

 and dwindle away to just such great, good natured, 

 good-for-nothing, do-nothing fellows as this Nick 

 liradshaw, and his wooly horse, andwoolless sheep, 

 and croplcss farm, and comfortless house, if indeed 

 such a great wind rack of loose lumber, is worthy 

 the name of a house. 



Now, by way of contrast to all this, do you see 

 that nout little cottage looking house on yonder 

 hummock, away to the right there, where you see 

 those beautiful shade trees. The house is small, 

 but it is a whole house. That's what I call about 

 right — flanked on both sides by an orchard of best 

 grafted fruit — a tidy flower garden in front, that 

 the galls see to, and a most grand sarce garden 

 jist over there, where it takes the wash of the 

 buildings, nicely sheltered by that bunch of shrub- 

 bery. Then see them everlasting big barns — and 

 by gosh, there goes fourteen dairy cows— as sleek 

 as moles. Them flowers, honeysuckles and rose 

 bushes, shows what sort of a lamily lives there. 



jist as plain as straws show which way the win 

 blows. 



Them galls, an't 'tarnally racing round to quilti 

 and husking frolics, their feet exposed in thin slip 

 to the mud, and their honor to a thinner protcctioi 

 No, no — take my word for 't — when you see gall 

 busy about such things to home, they are what ot 

 <dd minister used to call " right minded." Sue 

 things keep them busy, and when folks are bu.'s 

 about their own business, they've no time to tr( 

 into mischief. It keeps them healthy, too, and a 

 cheerful as larks. I've a mind w'll 'light here, an 

 view thi.s citizen's improvements, and we shall b 

 welcomed to a neat substantial breakfiist, that woul 

 be worthy to be taken as a pattern by any farmer" 

 wife in America. 



We were met at the door by .Mr Horton, wh 

 greeted my friend Slick with the warm salutatio! 

 of an old acquaintance, and expressed the satis 

 faction natural to one habitually hospitable, for th' 

 honor of my visit. He was a plain, healthy, intel 

 ligent looking man, about fifty, dressed as a farme 

 should be, with the stamp of " Homespu.n," Icgibl 

 upon every garment, not forgetting a very hand 

 some silk handkerchief, the work throughout of hi 

 oldest daughter. The room into which we wen 

 ushered, bore the same stamp of neatness and com 

 fort that the outside appearance indicated. A sub 

 stantial homemade carpet covered the floor, and ■■ 

 well filled book-case and writing desk, were in th 

 right place, among the contents of which, I ob 

 served several Agricultural periodicals. I wa 

 particiilarly struck with the scrupulously neat am 

 appropriate attire of the wife and two intelligent 

 interesting daughters, tbat were busily engaged ii 

 the morning operations of the dairy. After par 

 taking of en excellent substantial breakfast, M 

 Horton invited us to walk over his farm, which the 

 small, was every part in such a fine state of culti 

 vation, that he did not even express a fear of " starv 

 ing, unless the legislature did something, to kee) 

 the land from running out" 



We bade adie'u to this happy family, and pro 

 ceeded on our journey fully impressed with thi 

 contrast between a good and bad farmer, and for mi 

 own part, perfectly satisfied with the manner iha 

 Mr Slick had taken to impress it indelibly upon m' 

 own mind. 



Mr Slick seemed wrapped in contemplation o 

 the scenes of the morning for a long time. A 

 length he broke forth in one of his happy stranij 

 " The bane of this country, 'Squire, and indeec 

 of all America, is having too much la.nd — the} 

 run over more ground than they can cultivate — 

 and crop the land year after year, without manure 

 till it is no wonder that ■' iV's run out." A verj 

 large portion of land in America has been"rur, 

 out," by repeated grain crops, and bad husbandry 

 until a great portion of this great country is in f 

 fair way to be ruined. The two Carolinas am 

 Varginny are covered with places that are " rur 

 out," and are given up as ruined, and there are a 

 plagcy site too many such places all over New Eng- 

 land, and a great many other states. We hav'nl 

 the surplus of wheat that we used to have, in the 

 United States, and it '11 never be so plenty while 

 there are .so many Nick Bradshaw's in the coun- 

 try. 



The fact is this, 'Squire, edecation is duccdly 

 neglected. True, we liave a site of schools anc 

 and colleges, but they an't the right kind. The 

 same Nick Bradshaw has been clean through one 

 on 'em, and 'twas there that he larnt that infarnal 



