u 



AND GARDE IV E R '8 JO U RiN A L. 



9c 



la core of tUe women, you know, or they will noi 

 •( lor us^but aou look well. 



Iiial. — Yt'S,"tbnnk8 to your bounty. I am now 

 s'e :n_; on tbat ningnificent coat of manure wbich you 

 rj 1(1 the young clover last spring, anil juet at lUe 

 it )i', when It is needed, for ii" you will examine 

 !■ .li.inia on your left, you will find that the car is nl- 

 r li f.Tmed in the blade, and that they are all Jicc' 

 rv 1. If too. 



'///,ij. — That's capital 1 Now that comes of being 

 ^ i to the soil. 



riiciil.. — And now, will you cost your eye over the 

 ri:-S, and say if you see any piece of wheat in the 

 ai'Ui y so uniform and regular in its gnnvth / The 

 a-r of the plants on the sides of the ridges, in, if 

 thing, of a deeper gieen than those on the top or 

 rn of the ridge — a sure prognostic at this eeaeon 

 he year of a heavy crop. The field juet below is 

 sat, sown after il whole year's fallow, with dung; 

 there the order is reversed, for the plants which are 

 r the furniW8 on the sides of the ridges, are weak 

 yellow. And only trace the rows of green spots, 

 traight lines across the fields ! they were occa- 

 led by the heaps of dung wbich remained uuspread 

 weeks, until they were overgrown with weeds, 

 n what was termed a fallow I The weeds now 

 sturdy witnesses that the cultivation and dung 

 e done much more for them than for the wheat, 

 yet it ie probable that Farmer Grabb e.xpects to 

 3 a profit from hie crop ! 



iykes. — I dot think that ue will either have a reap 

 1 profit. Your present appearance warrants an ear • 

 larvest, by the blessing of a good seagon, and I am 

 ghted with the prospect. Can I do any thing more 

 you ? 



Wheat. — No, but there is something that you must 

 for yourself — you must increase the size of your 

 :k yard — I go for nothing less than forty bushels 

 acre. 



!, Corn. Sykes. — Well, I am glad to see you 

 i so much better; your first appearance was very 

 ik and sickly, and ray neighbors wanted to per- 

 de me it was because I sowed the seed with Buck- 

 tster's drill, but I knew that could not be the cause, 

 I never saw any machine operate better; 1 only 

 ih the handles were a little longer and lower. 

 Jorn. — My sickly appearance was owing to your 

 n good management. 

 ^kes. — Why, how could that be I 

 IHom. — You know that you are in the habit of 

 ughing a lectle deeper every time, and thus a small 

 tion of the sterile subsoil was brought to the eur- 

 3, and in this the seeds were sown; and the roller 

 the drill passing over, (a capital invention,) pres- 

 them so closely into the clay, and rain falling im- 

 diately after, and following the track of the roller, 

 surface became so hard and dry, it was with diffi- 

 ty that I could penetrate it, and for a few days I 

 3W I looked miserable: I, however, soon got to the 

 nure below which you had so bountifully supplied, 

 Inow I feel as though I could mount to the height 

 ten feet. If the season should be favorable, you 

 y put me down for 110 bushels per acre. I am in 

 fear of the weeds which I see springing up around 

 , you'll take care of them, I know. 

 5. Sugar Beets. Si/kes. — Ah I Mons. Sugar Beet, 

 w do you do ? How do you like our country and 

 uate 1 How do you like the exchange ? 

 Beets. — Ah ! Mons. Farmer, I like your country ' 



4. Potatoes. Sykcs. — Well, the progress which you 

 have uuidc in growth during the last two days, sur- 

 prises mc ! But never, ior a moment, have 1 doubted 

 the fultilment of my most sanguine expectations res- 

 pecting this, my favorite crop. 



Potatoes. — But you have left us nothing to do but 

 to grow: your labors begun last autumn, when you 

 ploughed the land deep, and laid it high and dry iiir 

 the winter; and before others could get on their land 

 in the spring, you had planted your crop. Then 

 again your judicious management in not moulding un 

 up — we have only to go on to maturity, while the 

 crops ol those who keep moulding, never know where 

 to be, or what to be at; for just as they have discover- 

 ed the height at which to form the bulbs, conies the 

 hoe, and buries them so deep as to ruin them: they 

 are therefore compelled to begin to form their bulbs 

 higher, to be within the influence of the sun, leaving 

 their first formed bidbe to their fate: but exhausted in 

 a degree, by the double exertion, they are weakened, 

 so as not to be able to bring the higher crop any more 

 than the lower, to perfection, and bo both are re 

 duced, both in quantity and quality, having many 

 small and useless bulbs; happy, however, if they es- 

 cape a third, or even a fourth moulding. Men are 

 very silly to suppose that potatoes do not know iheir 

 own business best; their fear, that without moulding, 

 they would form their crops on the suriace, is very 

 childish; W'hy, crcn iheij themselves would not be 

 guilty of any thing so thoughtless; their desire is, 

 only to find the spot where they shall be within the 

 reach oi the sun's rays, and men need not fear that 

 they will get above it. All the crops that arc not 

 moulded up are free from those half formed bulbs, or 

 warty excrescences, which are so apt to deform those 

 which have been nursed into the rickets: and there 

 are very lew small bulbs, for the root is not anxious to 

 form more than it knows it can bring to perfection. — 

 By your e-xcelltnt management, you will secure a har- 

 vest ten days earlier than your neighbors, a crop lar- 

 ger in quantity, and superior in quality, and which 

 will command an extra price in the market — put us 

 down for 780 bushels per acre. 



5. Clover. Sijkes. — Well, this is the finest crop of 

 clover in the country, and will be soon fit for the 

 scythe. 



Clocer. — No thanks to me, for you made me what 

 I am, by that magnificent covering of compost, by 

 which 1 was literally buried alive. If the season re- 

 mains favorable, 1 can promise yon two tons of hay 

 per acre the first crop, one ton per acre the second, 

 and a capital aftermaith for vour dairy, and if tbat 

 won't yield you u profit, w^ then quit, and go a 

 fishing ! 



6. Cows in Pasture. Sykes. — Well, Fanny, Kit- 

 ty, and Judy, what have you done with Bill ? 



Cows. — Oh ! he lies under yonder hedge, com- 

 plaining it is easier to lie down than to rise, and 

 thiidis it hard to have to accompany us twice to the 

 yard when we go to be milked — indeed he %vill soon 

 be too fat to be healthy. 



Sykes. — Well, I think you all live in clover, and the 

 return which you make of ten pounds of butter each 

 per week, is a proof of your gratitude fur good treat- 

 ment. 



Coies. — We are very happy, and the proverb says, 

 ''without comfort you can't make butler." But our 

 happiness is owing to your excellent care of us, espe- 

 cially in dividing our pasture into three compartments. 



.S/iir/j. — Tons it was "ad 'lother way," as Fornser 

 .\thtield says, but Grabb's sheep declare it wos robbe- 

 ry, rank robbery; for they have been robbed of Uic 

 means of existence. j, 



^yket:. — To me it has been advantageous, end has 

 proved the truth of the calculation on proportioi\ing 

 sheep stock to land: "The same land which carried 

 indilferently, forty-five long wooled sheep, maintatitcd- 

 in good plight jne hundred and liiiy Rylands." I am 

 theretore saiieiied with the exchange. 



y. But here come the hoibcs. Well, my beautitiB i 

 why, where are ye going in tbat frolicsome mood 1 



Horses. — Oh, we have eaten our supper, and Bra 

 now going to rest in the upper pasture; we say to Test 

 — Farmer Grabb's horses go to luhor, for as they get 

 no food in the stable after their duy's work, they are 

 compelled to gather their supper liclure they eat it, and 

 bard work it is with a bite so short: and after laboring 

 all doy at the plough, and all night at a short bita, 'tis 

 no wonder that it cosis him more in whips than in 

 corn. We shall therefore be ready by break of day 

 for whatever you will put us too, for "horses who are 

 kept above their work, their labor is play." 



Sykes. — Well, take care now, and if you raeet 

 Grabb's horses down the road, don't go to play with 

 them, for they have si meihing more serious to tbink 

 of. Halloo ! where did that groan come from 7 — 

 •'And yet another, and another," as the man says in 

 the play. Oh ! 'tis only the hogs, who have ovsrtat- 

 en themselves again ; this is butter making day, and. 

 ihey are alwoys a little uneasy after that." 



Hogs. — And so would you be, if you had swilled 

 as much os we have; but you men have no feeling.for 

 poor dumb brutes ! 



By this time Sykes had reached his house, and en- 

 tered, singing the last verse of that fine old song, 

 "No glory 1 covet;" it runs thus — 



;' How vainly through inrlnile strucgic and 6trif«, 



The many their lajjors employ ! 

 Since .111 that is truly delightful in life, 



Is wh.1t all, if they will, may enjoy." 



Sykes. — Well, wife, your elegant supper table Looks 

 very inviting. 



Wife. — Frank, get your Father's slippers. 



Sykes. — And my beltermost " Blouse," ^ I mean- 

 now to "rest and be thankful." And Frank, after 

 supper, and while your mother and sister are "plying 

 their needles," you shall read to us " The Yellow 

 Shoestrings," which I read when I was a boy; Br.d to 

 the golden rule contained in tbat little book, "Noth- 

 ing IS impossible to a willing mind." I owe the chief 

 blessings of my life, dun't 1 wile ? 



Wife. — Well, I confess that if it had not been for 

 your perseverance, the diHieulties which opposed eur 

 union would never have been surmounted, and that, I 

 guess, would have been unlbrtunate for both of us. 



Sykes. — Well, after that, I tbink we may go to sup- 

 per ! 



Frank. — Thank you, Father, these stories will 

 inake a beautiful pair of portraits, ond shall be preser- 

 ved by me with gratitude; together with those beiuii- 

 ful lines which you gave me yesterday, and which 

 have since been continually in my thoughts — 



Fur every evil under the sun. 

 There is a rcnie'ij', or there ic none ; 

 If there be one, try to tiud it, 

 If there be none — never mind It. 



ike your fine, light, and sunny days— they make and changing us oi'ten— if men were but sensible of 



xharine; I like the exchange too, 'tis all in favor 



America. But what for you not make sugar ? 

 ike plenty sugar — more than in France; great re- 

 oneration ! sweet recompense — no trouble, all plea- 

 re, all profit. 



Sykes. — I am not prepared to make sugar this year, 

 ;xt year I will do it, without any fear for the result. 



the mean time, unlike most other speculations, the 

 owth of the sugar beet is about the most profitable 

 op which a farmer can grow for winter fjod; hor- 

 B, cattle, sheep, hogs, and poultry, all are fond of it; 

 id better than all, it ad'is, in a surprising degree, to 

 efarmer's comfort during the dreary time of winter, 



it enables him to meet hie animals without reproach, 

 vd gives him the means of fattening his stock, at a 

 ipe that others are starving; and he can rear house 

 mb, which, about Christmas, would bring a fine 

 ice in the market. In the introduction of this crop 



notice, there has been no mistake, and in substitu- 

 ""ng it for a crop of barley, I have relieved the land of 

 1 exhausting crop, and adopted one that is ameliora- 

 ng; requiring neither fallow or dung, when the land 

 1 in good heart — so farewell, Mons. S. Beet. 



Beets. — Adieu, Mons. Farmer, "vive la Republic 

 tmerica !" 



the advantage this is to the dairy, their cows would 

 not be compelled to lie in the same pasture until the 

 very atmosphere is contaminated with their filth; the 

 milk would keep longer, and the butter would not be 

 so soft in hot weather, to say nothing of the Irijiing 

 circumstance of about two pounds of butter a week 

 from each cow, in favor ot your plan. 



Sijhcs. — Well, I never heard cows talk so reasona- 

 bly before ! and I wish you would read Grabb a lec- 

 ture upon Dairying; but unless he is the merest idiot 

 nlive, he must sometimes have heard and read, and 

 felt the reproachful looks and low murmurings of his 

 poor, half-starved animals in the garlicky meadow be- 

 low; but he is sunk so low that it must be up-hill 

 work for him, I know. . 



7. Sheep, Sykes. — It is remarkable, that just as 

 I had determined to dispose of my Leicestere, and 

 purchase sheep of a smaller breed, more suitable for 

 short pastures, that Farmer Grabb should decide upi>n 

 parting with his Southdowns, on the principle, that 

 "as a sheep is a sheep, you know, (glancing his eye 

 at Frank,) a lorge one must be more valuable than a 

 sinoll one" — (Frank.) (That's a capital hit at me ! 

 I shall never forget the lesson which I have been 

 faughfi go our exchange was no robbery. 



* The French Frock, a most convenient and suitable Drees 

 for farmers. 



Drainage of Lands by Steam Power. 



The drainage of lands by steam power has been ex- 

 tensively adopted in the fens of Lincolnshire, Cam- 

 bridgeshire, and Bedfordshire, and with immense ad- 

 vantage. A steam engine of ten horse power has 

 been found to be sufficient to drain a district compri- 

 sing 1000 acres of land, and the water can always be 

 kept down to any given distance below the plants. If 

 rain fall in excess, the water is thrown off by the en- 

 gine; if the weather is dry, the sluices can be opened 

 and the water let in from the river. The engines are 

 required to work four mouths in the twelve, at inter- 

 vals, varying with the season, where the districts are 

 large: the expense of drainage by steam power is 

 about 'is. 6d. per acre. The first cost of the work^ 

 varies with the different nature of the substrata, bat 

 generally it amounts to 1/. per acre for the machinery 

 and buildings. An engine of forty horse power, with 

 scoop wheels for draining, and requisite buildings, 

 costs about £4000, and is capable of draining 4000 

 acres of land. In many places in the fens, land has 

 been purchased at from .£11 to £20 per acre, whicb. 

 has been so much improved by drainage, as tG lie 

 worth from £60 to £70 per acre.— Durham ,MveT 

 tiser. 



