58 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



Feb. 



dustry and prudence, himself and those depend- 

 ent upon him will be fed from the bountiful soil, 

 and therefore no gaunt spectres of want ever dis- 

 turb his dreams. He has a house, which is his 

 castle ; it looks out upon sunny slopes, or aged 

 elms, or purling water-brooks, or broad fields of 

 grass, or waving grain or corn, or, perchance, 

 upon forest, hill or mountain, or a wide winter- 

 scene of frost-work and snow. It has a tight roof, 

 and under it nestle those whom his heart holds as 

 most dear. Thrice each day his table is spread 

 and covered with the garnered bounties of his 

 fruitful soil, the reward of well-directed labor. It 

 is the product of all whose years were not too 

 tender for toil, and is enjoyed as the direct gift of 

 heaven, and assured in the promise of old, — 

 "Ask and ye shall receive." 



Around this social board all are animated by 

 one purpose — the happiness of each other. One 

 heart, one mind, one voice, one effort of hand and 

 will, carry forward the pursuits of the family, and 

 secure the desii-ed results of all. His domain is 

 skirted by the church and the school-house, 

 where the intellect is expanded and stored with 

 useful knowledge and the affections ripened for 

 heaven. In the village, enough of the arts 

 and sciences flourish to satisfy the wants of his 

 occupation, and it forms the centre of the little 

 republic whose members meet there in the farm- 

 er's club, lyceum, and on town-meeting days. 

 His wants are few, compared with many others, 

 and he creates the means of supplying most of 

 them within himself. He is both producer and 

 consumer, keeping his own stall and filling the 

 hooks and shelves of others. If a ride to town or 

 a journey is contemplated, he has the means to 

 indulge the desire, as a horse and carriage are 

 -common to every farmer. What other profession 

 can boast as much ? 



Such are a few outlines of the home of the far 

 imer. Sheltered, clothed, fed, with a sufficient as- 

 surance of all these being continued to hira, so 

 ihat no gloomy anticipations of privation and 

 want shall assail him and make him anxious 

 •for the future, the revolutions of nations or 

 .'States rarely affect his prosperity, or, if at all, 

 • only to create a demand for his surplus products 

 and increase their value. 



We wish to call the attention of the reader to 

 the idea contained in the quotation in the first 

 .line of our article, — 



"The common people have become uncommon." 



Those who have been observing persons will 

 find in this remark a great truth. The publica- 

 tion of agricultural newspapers and books, the 

 introduction of new and improved implements, 

 and the discussions that have taken place in the 

 home of the farmer and in his neighborhood. 



have, in reality made the common people uncom- 

 mon. That is, they are not now the common people 

 they were forty years ago. They have progressed 

 with other things, in all the arts, in general intel- 

 ligence. 



♦ * * "They have books ; 



As 'twas designed they should when taught their letters." 



They are more polished and refined, converse bet- 

 ter, think better. Their dwellings, shops, farms, 

 almost everything, show a higher culture and 

 civilization, and what is especially gratifying, 

 there is, in all classes, a more just appreciation 

 of the occupation of the farmer, and of his posi- 

 tion in society. 



Let us, then, be industrious, frugal and happy 

 in February, and Avhen March comes, we will 

 endeavor to extract as many pleasures as we can 

 out of that, first of the Spring months. 



SALT. 

 Some modern agricultural writers have doubted 

 the necessity of giving animals salt. The follow- 

 ing remarks as to the effect of salt upon health, by 

 Prof. James F. Johnston, of Scotland, may be rel- 

 ished by those who still put salt in their own pud- 

 dings, and allow their cattle a little now and then : 



"The wild buffalo fiequents the salt-licks of 

 North-western America; the wild animals in the 

 central parts of Southern Africa are a sure prey 

 to the hunter, who conceals himself behind a salt 

 spring ; and our domestic cattle run peacefully to 

 the hand that offers them a taste of this delicious 

 luxury. From time immemorial it has been known 

 that without salt man would miserably perish ; 

 and among horrible punishments, entailing certain 

 death, that of feeding culprits on saltless food is 

 said to have prevailed in barbarous times. Mag- 

 gots and corruption are spoken of by ancient wri- 

 ters as the distressing symptoms which saltless 

 food engenders ; but no ancient, or unchemical 

 modern, could explain how such sufferings arose. 

 Now we know why the animal craves salt ; why 

 it suffers discomfort, and why it ultimately falls 

 into disease if salt is for a time withheld. Up- 

 wards of half the saline matter of the blood (57 

 per cent,)consists of common salt ; and as this is 

 partly discharged every day through the skin and 

 the kidneys, the necessity of continued supplies 

 of it to the healthy body becomes sufficiently ob- 

 vious. The bile also contains soda as a special 

 and indispensable constituent, and so do all the 

 cartilages of the body. Stint the supply of salt, 

 therefore, and neither w^ill the bile be able prop- 

 erly to assist the digestion, nor the cartilages to 

 be built up again as fast as they naturally waste." 



Central Heat of the Earth. — The rate of 

 increase of heat is equal to one degree of Fah- 

 renheit for every forty-five feet of descent. Look- 

 ing to the result of such a rate of increase, it is seen 

 that at seven thousand two hundred and ninety 

 feet from the surface the heat will reach two hun- 

 dred and twelve degrees, the boiling point of wa- 

 ter. At twenty-five thousand five hundred feet 



