502 



NEW ENGLAM) FAEIMEK. 



JVL.Y 



Here, we are blest with gradual changes of 

 the seasons, instead of searching droughts and 

 drenching rains, as described by Mr. D. War- 

 ren, in his work on British India. "A suffo- 

 cating calm," he says, "which prevails partic- 

 ularly about the end of the great heats, pre- 

 cedes the setting in of the southern monsoon. 

 With the end of May come on the first storms, 

 which are brief, but of extreme violence. 

 Thunder is heard in the distance at intervals ; 

 the sun sets in a bed of clouds, and every 

 evening, the lightnings illuminate all points of 

 the horizon. The rain falls for half an hour, 

 in torrents ; after a few days it lasts longer, 

 and towards the middle of June it rules the 

 entire day, for when it is not actually raining, 

 the sky is at least covered with a dense and 

 tereatening curtain of clouds. It rains some- 

 times, particularly in July, for thirty or forty 

 hours consecutively, and then not in fine lines, 

 broken and almost imperceptible, as in our 

 climates, but in straight parallel streaks, and 

 frequently like a sheet of water coming down 

 all at once with the fury and impetuosity of a 

 cascade. 



"The miserable clay huts of the natives be- 

 come thoroughly soaked under this continued 

 avalanche ; their roofs fall in and bury them, 

 or, at all events, escaping that easier fate, 

 they find themselves exposed to all the rigors 

 of the open air, and perish in great numbers. 

 This is the period of wide-spread distress, 

 which does not spare even the nabob and the 

 conqueror; and the very reptiles, those of the 

 most hateful species, like the rest, inundated 

 in their holes, dart to the surface of the soil 

 and seek an asylum among the dwellings of 

 men. Numerous varieties of snakes, centi- 

 pedes, and scorpions climb your stairs, invade 

 your houses, and glide into every room. It 

 is impossible to take a step in one's bed-cham- 

 ber at night, without a light, unless one is pre- 

 pared to run the risk of a sting that may prove 

 fatal. The utmost distrust must be felt of 

 every thing that one touches ; a cruel bite may 

 kill you from the inside of a boot or a sleeve. 

 For some time you lead a life of continual 

 alarm and disgusting contacts." 



There are other parts of the globe's surface 

 where rain is almost unknown. This is the 

 case on the coast of Peru, and in a large part of 

 Australia, where the trees are obliged to ar- 

 range their leaves in the same line as the rays 



of the sun, since, if they were in the natural 

 position, they would be too quickly dried up. 

 The Desert of Sahara, is denied rain entirely, 

 and from the immense plains of Africa there 

 rises only a column of burning air, while not 

 a drop of dew falls to moisten the parched 

 surface or to develop vegetation. 



Lacking all experience in these terrible op- 

 erations in nature, we can have no adequate 

 conception of the inconveniences, fears and 

 even destruction of life and property, which 

 they cause. Let us contrast them with our 

 more equable changes of heat and cold, of 

 dryness and moisture, — with our matchless 

 July mornings and sunset hours. 



"When day her farewell beam delays. 

 Amid the opening clcuds of even. 

 And we can almost think we gaze 

 Thro' opening vistaa into heaven," — 



let us indulge more frequently in these con- 

 trasts, and we shall complain less of July 

 droughts or July drenchings than we have 

 heretofore. 



Upon the whole, our New England climate 

 is more favorable to health and longevity, to 

 the enjoyment of all the comforts of this life, 

 and for preparation for another and better 

 life, than any we have read of or experienced. 

 Its changes are sometimes sudden and severe, 

 but of a temporary character, and we are able 

 to protect ourselves against them by our in- 

 dustry and skill. 



TRAINING THE TOMATO. 



In visiting the grounds of the late Mr. Tu- 

 dor at Nahant, several years ago, we noticed 

 that he was cultivating a good many tomatoes, 

 and was experimenting in order to learn the 

 best modes of doing so. 



The plan which he found the easiest and 

 best, upon the whole, was, to plant the seed 

 in drills and place a rail each side of the plants 

 upon stakes standing something in the shape 

 of the letter V, — that is, slanting out at the 

 top. Care was taken not to have the plants 

 stand so thick as to interfere with each other, 

 and to tie the leading stems to the rails as 

 they grew long enough. In this way the vines 

 would rest upon and hang over the rails, and 

 keep them up in the sun and air, as well as 

 keeping the fruit from the ground. The 

 vines looked as though they would well pay 

 for the labor bestowed upon them. In addi- 

 tion, some persons pinch off the top of the 



