1864. 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



177 



NEW BOOKS. 



lO AcRBS Ewonon ; A Practical Treatise for the Million, 

 XvJ Showing how a very small Farm may he made to keep a 

 very large Family. New York: James Miller. 



This is an excellent book. It comes directly 

 home to the wants of the family. There is no 

 circumlocution, no fine-spun theories, no fancy 

 sketches — though we like these sometimes — about 

 it. It is rigidly, persistently practical. It is full 

 of faith as well as sound teachings. It is a book 

 that applies to in-door duties as well as out, — re- 

 cognizes the women and children as a portion of 

 the family whose comfort must be considered in 

 everything that is to be done. Every one culti- 

 vating land should read it, and especially those 

 who do not believe farming profitable, and have 

 little faith in their own good works on the soil. 



The book is printed on large type, with good 

 paper, but sent to us in mean paper covers. We 

 want another copy in a better dress. 



Read, below, and see how truly the author points 

 out the first leading error of most cultivators. 



The mistaken ambition for owning twice as 

 much land as one can thoroughly manure or prof- 

 tably cultivate, is the great agricultural sin of 

 this country. Those who commit it, by begin- 

 ning wrong, too frequently continue wrong. Own- 

 ing many acres is the sole idea. High cultiva- 

 tion of a small tract, is one of which they have 

 little knowledge. Too many in these several 

 classes think they know enough. They measure 

 a man's knowledge by the number of his acres. 

 Hence, in their eyes the owner of a plot so hum- 

 ble as mine must know so little as to be unable to 

 teach them anything new. 



It seems that the writer had been a business 

 man in the city, and that mercantile convulsions 

 and the high cost of living had made it difficult to 

 "make both ends meet" at the close of the year. 

 So after numberless deliberations, mingled with 

 hopes, doubts and fears, they purchased a home 

 in the country. We will let him tell his own story 

 about ft. 



In a week the house was vacated and cleansed, 

 and we were in full possession. My wife was sat- 

 isfied, my children were delighted, and I had real- 

 ized the dream of twenty years ! One strong fact 

 forced itself on my attention the first night I 

 passed under my new roof. The drain of three 

 hundred dollars per annum into the pocket of my 

 city landlord had been stopped. My family re- 

 ceived as safe a shelter for the interest of a thou- 

 sand dollars, as he had given them for the inter- 

 est of five thousand ! The feeling of relief from 

 this unappeasable demand was indescribable. Curi- 

 ously enough, my wife voluntarily suggested that 

 the same feeling of relief had been presented to 

 her. But in addition to this huge equivalent for 

 the investment of a thousand dollars, there was 

 that which might be hereafter realized from the 

 cultivation of eleven acres of land. 



This lodgement was effected on the first of 

 April, 1855. When all our household fixings had 

 been snugly arranged, and I took my first walk 

 over my little plantation, on a soft and balmy 



morning, my feeling of contentment seemed to be 

 perfect. I knew that I was not rich, but was cer- 

 tain that I was not poor. In contrasting my con- 

 dition with that of others, both higher and lower 

 upon fortune's ladder, I found a thousand causes 

 for congratulation, but none for regret. With all 

 his wealth, Rothschild must be satisfied with the 

 same sky that was spread over me. He cannot 

 order a private sunrise, that he may enjoy it with 

 a circle of friends, nor add a single glory to the 

 gorgeous spectacle of the setting sun. The mil- 

 lionaire could not have more than his share of the 

 pure atmosphere that I was breathing, while the 

 poorest of all men could have as much. God 

 only can give all these, and to many of the poor 

 he has thus given. All that is most valuable can 

 be had for nothing. They come as presents from 

 the hand of an indulgent Father, and neither air 

 nor sky, nor beauty, genius, health, or strength, 

 can be bought or sold. Whatever may be one's 

 condition in life, the great art, is to learn to be con- 

 tent and happy, indulging in no feverish longings 

 for what we have not, but satisfied and thankful 

 for what we have. 



Now that our author has got fairly settled on 

 his ten acre farm, let us see what he really knows 

 about the garden, and whether he has studied ag- 

 riculture in a scientific or philosophic point of 

 view. But we must detain the reader a single 

 moment, to call his attention to the pleasant man- 

 ner in which the writer frequently introduces his 

 wife, and to note the affectionate interest which 

 she took in his farm and garden affairs. See how 

 kindly they drew together in an even yoke ! 

 "Kate," too, a*partner of their toils, we suppose 

 was a daughter, worthy of such a sire. Now for 

 the garden talk : 



The town within half a mile of us contained 

 some five thousand inhabitants, among whom 

 there was a daily demand for vegetables. I took 

 my wife's advice, and from time to time gathered 

 such as she directed, for she and Kate were sole 

 mistresses of the garden, and sent them to the 

 store. They kept a regular book account of these 

 consignments, and when we came to settle up 

 with the storekeeper at the year's end, were sur- 

 prised to find that he had eighty dollars to our 

 credit. But this was not all from vegetables — a 

 good deal of it came from the fruit trees. 



After using in the family great quantities of 

 fine peaches from the ten garden trees, certainly 

 three times as many as we could ever afford to 

 buy when in the city, the rest went to the store. 

 The trees had been so hackled by the worms that 

 they did not bear full crops, yet the yield was con- 

 siderable. Then there were quantities of spare 

 currants, gooseberries, and several bushels of com- 

 mon blue plums, which the curculio does not 

 sting. When my wife discovered there was so 

 ready a market at our own door, she suffered 

 nothing to go to waste. It was a new feature in 

 her experience — everything seemed to sell. When- 

 ever she needed a new dress for herself or any of 

 the children, all she had to do was to go to the 

 store, get it, and have it charged against her gar- 

 den fund. I confess that her success greatly ex- 

 ceeded my expectations. 



Let me now put in a word as to the cause o 



