DEVOTED TO AQBICULTUilE AIH) ITS ElWDRED ABTS AND SGIEKTCES. 



VOL. XIV. 



BOSTON, NOVEMBER, 1862. 



NO. 11. 



BOURSE, EATON & TOLMAN, Proprietors. 

 Office... .100 "Washinqton Street. 



SIMON- BROWN, Editor. 



HENRY F. FRENCH, Associate Editor. 



THOUGHTS ABOUT NOVEMBER. 



"Sweet Summer, sighing, flies the pl.ain, 

 And waiting Winter, gaunt and grim, 



Sees miser Autumn hoard his grain, 

 And smiles to think it's all for him." 



Home Journal. 



OVEMBER, in 

 anticipation at 

 least, is gener- 

 ally regarded 

 an impor- 

 tant month. — 

 ^^We think of it 

 as a sort of 

 transition pe- 

 ^^^^^fj^^-^ riod, a ming- 



ling of Fall and 

 Winter, with 

 just enough of 

 Summer to 

 give an edge 

 to its sharp 

 corners. But 

 in realization it 

 is often found 

 that these cor- 

 ners are so 

 rounded that 

 its short days, coming as they do one at a timcj 

 glide away more comfortably than we expected, 

 when looking upon them as a unit, and at the 

 close, as we look back upon the month, the re- 

 mark is often made that "November has been 

 quite pleasant, after all !" 



How the Month will prove, this year, remains 

 for each one to determine for himself. With an 

 eye to see and a heart to enjoy the beautiful and 

 the poetical in nature, such as the unknown writer 

 of the four lines at the head of this article must 

 have possessed, November and all the other 

 months of the year will indeed prove a "joy for- 

 ever." 



To the farmer, too, whose work is kept up 

 squarely with the season, none of the various 

 phases of this fickle month will come amiss, but all 

 be made to fit in with his general plan of opera- 

 tions. Should the frost-king seal up the earth, as 

 he sometimes does, by the middle of November, 

 all the potatoes and other root crops of this class 

 of farmers will happen to be safely in the cellar. 



But to another class — the procrastinators, the 

 behind-handers — this month will probably prove 

 much like its predecessors, very unpropitious — 

 every storm and every freeze happening at just 

 the wrong time. We trained in that company - 

 once just long enough to learn to dislike its tac*^- 

 tics, and to pity those who have "enlisted for the ■ 

 war." 



We recollect, when a boy, of being on pi«k_-it; 

 duty one day in a potato field, after the soil was 

 pretty well frozen, and when a cold, piercing; wind 

 blew most uncomfortably all day long. With, 

 strong hoes the crust of frozen earth was broken 

 and tipped off" the hills, while with mittened,' be- 

 numbed fingers we gathered the potatoes from 

 their beds and from the crust into which many of 

 the upper ones were frozen. It makes us "blow 

 our fingers'' even now, to think of that day's work. 

 The next morning, to the great joy of one little 

 fellow, at least, it was announced that thje ground 

 was as solid as a rock, and that no more potatoes 

 could be dug till it thawed; and as ;it did not 

 thaw out again that fall, about an acreni one field 

 remained unharvested. This was an experiment 

 which is not often repeated, probably. B,ut pota- 

 toes are frequently left in the ground until there 

 are frosts sufficiently severe to injux:ersome! of those 

 which lie upon or near the surface ©f the ground. 



Another crop that sometimes stands in the field 

 until November is Indian Com. This noble grain 

 may be harvested at any time from tlie last of 

 September till the snow flies. Ofi" West they leave 

 it in the fields until mid-winter, or until consumed 

 or marketed. But here in New England, where 



