;■,* 



The IiitiNOis Fakmer. 



VOL. VII. 



SPREf^FIBLD, JULY, 1862. 



NO. 10. 



July. 



July, with its ardent heat, will soon be at 

 hand; yes, fully inaugurated when this 

 number of the Farmer reaches its readers; 

 but as we write, we have the milder days of 

 June, of genial, rosey June, over which is 

 wafted the first zephyrs that come tip from 

 the isles of the gulf, laden with the wealth 

 of summer growth, to fruit, to flower, and 

 to the waving grain. All the month the 

 busy horse, with cultivator, shovel-plow, or 

 other implement, is destroying the weedg 

 that line the rows of the young corn— it is 

 a busy month, but its pathway is strewn 

 with the beautiful, and labor, under such 

 skies, and amid the teeming ranks of our 

 varied products, is but a pleasure. Who 

 would not be a farmer to lord it over rich 

 acres of prairie drift ? who would not wish 

 to own an orchard bending With the gifts of 

 promise ? who not wish for a garden filled 

 with ripe strawberries and the other small 

 fruits ? — let him who has plodded long years 

 on a farm without an eye to the beautiful, 

 answer not me — for no other person but will 

 respond with an aye. 



Would that we could imbue into every 

 tiller of the soil, a more thorough system of 

 improvement, that while his energies are 

 devoted to bushels of grain that pay his 

 annual expenses, he would place about him 

 more home attractions, more of the comforts 

 of life, more of the elements of endurance, 

 of good health and what is ot fslwd — eoa- 

 tentment. 



Seldom it is that we see for sale a fsmn 

 with good buildings, good orchards, a well 

 stocked garden, and shady walks about the 



house. Such places have too many attrar. 

 tions for their owners to be parted with for 

 any trifling consideration. Farming is an 

 art, a trade that requires no small amount of 

 study and of training to succeed well The 

 dolt can plow and gather in his crop, but he 

 plants by guess and regulates his business 

 by accident, while the intelligent farmer 

 builds up a home around which loved ones 

 delight to linger, and from which they sel- 

 dom stray, for it is there they find the com- 

 forts and pleasures of home. 



With good health and pleasant surround- 

 ings, labor is a pleasure : and the sweat 

 poured out in the field, with well directed 

 efforts, is an instrument that will return 

 many fold ; but to plod on, to dig and delve 

 to no particular purpose, is a constant wear- 

 ing away of the system and a souring of the 

 genial sympathies of our kind. The farmer 

 must use more brains ; he must work less 

 with his hands, see more with his eyes, and 

 study more intimately into the arena of na 

 ture. If he but wills it his pathway can al. 

 ways be strewn with the beautiful, and the 

 useful be at his command. We all work 

 much ; we are too much hewers of wood aad 

 drawers ef water j too much the dupes of 

 designing men who live upon our labor. 

 Count up, if you will, the thousands of dol- 

 lars of our hard earned labor that have beea 

 thrown away on worse than worthless seed, 

 of new plants, of worthless implements, pa 

 tent washing machines, ehurns, with thous* 

 ands of humbugs that we have gulped down 

 with a credulity that it astonishing. We 

 must Use mote brains and not longer furnish 

 the food for this class of harpies. We mus 



