356 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



Au6. 



horses had been in great peril from such a cause, 

 having in vain tried to save them, hit upon the 

 experiment of having them harnessed as though 

 tliey were going to their usual -work, Avhon to his 

 astonishment, they -were led from the stable with- 

 out difficulty. — Spirit of the Times. 



A much more easy and expeditious v/ay of get- 

 ting a horse out of a burning building, or when 

 near one, is to take off your coat, throw it over 

 his head and shut out the sight of all objects. He 

 will then usually follow your lead anywhere. 



For the New England Farmer. 



THE POTATO BLIGHT AND EOT IS 

 CAUSED BY INSECTS. 



Mr. Editor : — I answered Mr. Goldsbury 

 through your columns, May 12th, at his own re- 

 quest. His "seven reasons," of March 3d, I re- 

 futed by actually showing, attested by reliable 

 certificates, (as published in N. E. Farmer, May 

 12th,) that insects cause the potato blight and 

 rot. He attempts a reply, June 2d, denying in 

 vague generalities the facts which I have placed 

 before your readers. If he will not admit, and 

 does not refute the facts stated in the authorities, 

 it is useless to argue this question with him I 

 have frankly given him the authorities which es- 

 tablish beyond question the true cause of this 

 malady. It is traced to microscopic insects, sub- 

 sisting suctorially in their larva age upon the 

 roots. Mr. Goldsbury admits his ignorance about 

 microscopic research into this subject, never hav- 

 ing "looked through the microscopic glasses." 

 Thus ignorant, who will admit his hypothetical 

 theories, unsupported by one single authority or 

 certificate ? If he is right, why don't he give, 

 frankly, the names of the "seventeen plain, shrewd, 

 common sense Yankee farmers," who know so 

 much, and have searched microscopically into the 

 entomological and botanical condition of the po- 

 tato ? I respectfully ask him for their names, and 

 certificates of their investigations. ISIr. Golds- 

 bury and your readers have "Yankee shrewdness 

 and common sense" enough to understand, that 

 facts are better and more reliable than "logic ;" 

 therefore, I gave Mr. Goldsbury no "logical an- 

 swer," because I produced ocular facts to refute 

 his hypothesis and theories ; — facts attested to 

 by the highest authority in the nation. 



Baltimore, June 5, 18G0. Lyman Reed, 



Landscape and Ornamental Gardening. 

 — Our old friend and correspondent, R. M. Cope- 

 LAND, Esq., has associated himself with Mr. C. 

 W. FoLSOM, to furnish plans for the laying out 

 and improvement of cemeteries, public squares, 

 pleasure grounds, farms and gardens, and also 

 for the construction of buildings connected with 

 agriculture, horticulture and general improvement. 

 Mr. Folsom will give his attention to all branches 

 of civil engineering, such as the laying out of 

 roads, surveys for water works, railroads, &c.,&c. 

 They are skillful, competent and reliable gentle- 

 men, and are ^ible to connect with the principles 

 ■which they well understand, a decided good taste. 



For the New EnglandJFarmer. 

 EVERY MAN A KING. 



ET R. n. TEWKSBURY. 



New England ! land of labor, 

 Stalwart forms and iron wills ! 

 How the wanderer's fondest memories 

 Linger 'monj,' thy granite hills ; 

 And, mapped upon the vision 

 Of thy absent sons who stray, 

 Lie the outlines of thy valleys — 

 There the mirrored memories play ; 

 Memories of the land that bore them, 

 What a wealth of joy they bring — 

 Land of maidens more than queenly, 

 Land of men, each one a king ! 



There are honors won in battle, 

 Mingling blood of friends and foes. 

 And a haughty pride that fattens, 

 On a suffering brother's woes : 

 Ve are nobler honors winning, 

 New England's sons of toil ! 

 'Mong the workshops' clanging forges. 

 Or the boulders of the soil. 

 Though bloody deeds ye boast not, 

 Nor the battle trophies bring. 

 Every workman is a monarch. 

 Every toiling son a king. 



Thrones there are, with gold encircled, 

 Radiant in a wreath of gems ! 

 Robes with many a diamond sparkling 

 Fringed with burning sapphire horns ! 

 Thrones there are, 0, fair New England ! 

 In thy boundaries not a few, 

 Whence a thousand rulers give us 

 Blessings like the heavenly dew. 

 Where the plowman turns the furrow, 

 Where the beaten anvils ring, 

 In the modest robes of labor 

 Stands a true and royal king. 



Plowing through the waves of ocean, 

 Breasting every rolling stream ; 

 Rattling through the vine-clad valleys, 

 Chaining e'en the lightning's gleam ; 

 Riding high in air above us. 

 Gliding o'er the rolling sea. 

 Heralds from the court of labor 

 Hail the rulers of the free, 

 Whose maces are sledge hammers, 

 Whose praise their anvils ring, 

 Hard and sinewy modern monarchs — 

 Every one a more than king. 



Every click of workman's hammer 

 On the red and yielding steel, 

 Every pufTof lab'ring engine 

 Where the thundering car-trains wheel, 

 Every dash of rolling paddles 

 In the waters of the sea, 

 Echo far and wide the anthem — 

 We are rulers of the free ! 

 Every blow of grim old forger 

 The song of triumph rings. 

 We have every one a kingdom ! 

 And we dwell where all are kings. 

 Lawrence, Mass., May 30, 1860. 



Wonderful Instinct of a Cat. On Thurs- 

 day of last week, Capt. Elijah Crocker, of this vil- 

 lage, sent a cat and two of her kittens to Boston,' 

 by the sloop S. P. Cole, Capt. Washington Farris. 

 The cat and kittens were taken on board Capt. 

 Crocker's vessel, the ship Ashburton, soon to sail 

 for Calcutta. But on Thursday morning it was 



