1862. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER 



73 



try or botany, they would soon, I doubt not, al- 

 most invariably, become deeply interested in the 

 -subject, and pursue the study as a jiastime, and 

 surprise themselves with the advancement they 

 would make, and the fund of knowledge they would 

 find themselves in possession of at the end of a 

 few months. Let none be discouraged at the sight 

 of a few hard names ; they soon become familiar 

 and convenient terms. But in the Farmer of 

 Dec. 14th, Mr. Bassktt has made further re- 

 marks unnecessary ; he has stated the matter in 

 its true light, and what he has said is in no point 

 exaggerated. j. a. a. 



Upringfield, Dec. 25, 18G1. 



For the l^etp England Farmer. 



"WAYSIDE NOTES. 



Cutting doira Trees — Rural Lanes — Birds — Climate — 'Weather- 

 Grumblers — Change Essential to our liappmess. 



In renewing my subscription to the Farmer, I 

 am tempted to send you a few wayside notes on 

 rural matters. 



I am son-y to see our farmers cutting down the 

 old apple trees around their houses, and moM'iug 

 or grubbing up the bushes along the lines of their 

 fences and lanes. Doubtless this is, in many in- 

 stances, desirable, in the march of agricultural im- 

 provement ; yet how often have I seen with regret 

 the charm of a pleasant rustic place destroyed, 

 while its productiveness was in no wise increased, 

 by an indiscriminate sacrifice of every tree and 

 shrub that did not bear- dollars. On many of our 

 New England farms are charming rural lanes, 

 winding about in the most picturesque manner, and 

 skirted on either side of the cart path, next to the 

 wall or fence, with an irregular hedge-row of oaks, 

 bu'ches, pitch pines, savins, bai'berry bushes, wild 

 cherry trees. Sec. But too often the owner, in liis 

 blind zeal for improvement, cuts down these beau- 

 tiful hedge rows, thereby destroying the rustic 

 beauty of his farm. Thus the old-foshioned farm- 

 er banishes the bu'ds from around his homestead. 



Speaking of the bu-ds, can you tell us, Mr. Ed- 

 itor, when we are to have the new Ornithology 

 which we heard of so long ago as being in pro- 

 gress by Dr. Brewer ? You may search our book- 

 stores in vain for a copy of Wilson or Nuttall. 

 They were long ago out of print. My thanks to 

 your correspondent, J. A. A., for liis interesting 

 papers on the Birds of New England. 



Every year I find myself better satisfied Avith 

 our New England climate. I do not think we 

 have any more winter than we need to make out 

 an agreeable variety. Certainly, no weather in 

 this v.-oiid can be finer than our autumn, with all 

 those quiet, hazy, golden days. The Indian sum- 

 mer loiters into December, and then we are ready 

 for snow and the beautiful scenery of winter : the 

 season of comparative leisure, of long evenings by 

 the fireside and lectures and social gatherings ; 

 and before we are tired of sleighing, we awake 

 some mormng to hear the robin in the garden tell 

 ing us spring is coming. I remember one winter 

 when our ponds did not freeze to their usual tliick- 

 ness for the ice men to cut, and so that crop was 

 a failure, though com never failed in the summer. 

 And yet, I am son-y to hear our people sometimes 

 complain of the winters. To such I am accus- 

 tomed to recommend a perusal of Dr. ICaue. 



Though some, indeed, seem to make it a point to 

 find something uncommon, unprecedented, and 

 exceedingly uneomforta])le in every change of the 

 weather, as though they could have devised a 

 much better arrangement. My busy neighbor 

 complains of the short days, as if the long, delicious 

 sleej) of winter nights was of no account, and he 

 would have it all daif-time, if he could. 



Nevertheless, I confess to an especial fondness 

 for summer, though I cannot say I am, on the 

 whole, any happier or any surer of hajjpiness in 

 summer than in winter. On the contrary, I am 

 accustomed to regard the exuberance of spirits 

 which most persons experience in the clear, spark- 

 ling days of winter, as a kind of compensation for 

 the loss of summer's verdure. We ai-e wont to 

 dream sometimes of endless summer and ever 

 smiling faces, forgetting tliat changes are essen- 

 tial to our happiness. We cannot clutch all of 

 beauty or pleasure at a grasp, and therein lies the 

 charm. When our cup of happiness is full it be- 

 gins to run over. We scorn common things, yet 

 when they grow rare we prize them. I have fan- 

 cied that the dandelion was once the choicest flow- 

 er, when first I have seen its bright face looking 

 up from a soft green bed of the freshest spring 

 grass. But I did not set out to write an essay. 



Phjmouth, 1862. j. w. s. 



Remarks.— We like the cheerful views of life 

 and beauty, and the pleasant manner in which 

 they are expressed. How can the writer gladden 

 the hearts of thousands in any easier way, than by 

 writing again ? We cannot inform "J. W. S." 

 when the new work on Ornithology will appear. 



EOUGH NOTES ON MILEZNG. 



The first process in the operation of milking, is 

 to "fondle" with the cow — make her acquaintance, 

 and thus give her to understand that the man, or 

 "maid with the milking pail," approaches her with 

 fi'iendly intentions in order to reUeve her of the 

 usual amount of lacteal secretion. It will never do 

 to approach the animal with combative feelings 

 and intentions ; should the milker swear, scold, or 

 kick, and otherwise abuse the cow, she may prob- 

 ably prove as refractory as a mule, and may give 

 the uncouth and unfeeling milker the benefit of 

 her heels — a very pertinent reward, to which he, 

 the uncouth milker, is justly entitled. 



Before commencing to milk, a cow shouJd be 

 fed, or have some kind of fodder offered her, in 

 view of diverting her attention from the otherwise 

 painful operation of milking ; by this means the 

 milk is not "held up," as the saying is,, but is 

 yielded freely. 



The miUvcr should be in close contact wilh the 

 cow's body, for in this position, if she attempts to 

 kick him, he gets nothing more than a "push," 

 whereas, if he sits off at a distance, the cow has an 

 opportunity to inflict a severe blow whenever she 

 feels disposed to do so. 



Before commencmg to milk a cow, the teats 

 should be washed with water, warm or cold, ac- 

 cording to the temperature of the atmosphere, the 

 object of which is to remove filth which might oth- 

 erwise fall into the milk-pail, to the disgust of per- 

 sons who love pure milk, and hate uncieanliness. 



