m^s!^>nmaiJi."i J r I - 



1863. 



THE ILLmOIS FAEMER. 



35 



Flowers is one of the best for the flower 

 garden, cost $1, most of the bookstores 

 have them. On the sowing of garden 

 seeds, gardners always sow very thick- 

 ly and thin out, as they prefer this to 

 rmming the risk of a poor stand. A 

 few days since we asked a gardner who 

 is always successful with the whole fam- 

 ily of curculio, how he guarded against 

 the striped bug; his answer was, plant 

 plenty of seed, in fact more than the 

 bugs can eat, double the number of hills 

 in the row and quadruple the seed. 

 Seeds should never be planted deep, 

 but the soil must be finely comminuted 

 and pressed or rolled after planting. 

 Kext month we shall give full direc- 

 tions how to grow celery, so that every 

 farmer can have it throughout the win- 

 ter. Asparagus beds should now have 

 a top dressing, and border pinks and 

 strawberry beds will need a sbght cov- 

 ering of cornstalks or litter, old well 

 rotted manure will do for the latter. 

 We hope that our readers will not for- 

 get to plant a few hills of okra for their 

 soups. 



Many of our farmers are complaining 

 that their potatoes are not keeping well. 

 It would be well to overhaul them, and 

 if disposed to rot sprinkle them freely 

 with slacked lime. The sugar beet 

 should be more generally grown for 

 milch cows, as they are better than corn 

 for this purpose. Clean ground should 

 be selected for all vegetables, and when 

 practicable a good dressing of manure 

 will prove valuable. 



The orchard will need attention, but 

 do not cut a limb when it is frozen. Cut 

 your raspberry plants back to within 

 two feet of the ground, but only when 

 the frost is out of them. 



-«••- 



i^Cotton in Kansas ripened perfectly last 

 year, producing a heavy crop. 



"Picciola." 



It was a Sergeant old and gray, 



Well singed and bronzed from siege and pillage. 

 Went trampling in an army's wake, 



Along the turnpike of the village. 



For days and nights the winding host 

 Had, through the little place been marching. 



And ever loved the rustics cheered 



Till ev'ry throat was hoarse and parching. 



The squire and farmer, maid and dame, 

 All took the sight's electric stirring. 



And hats were waved and staves were sang, 

 And kerchiefs white were countless whirring. 



They only saw a gallant show 



Of heroes stalwart under banners, 

 And in the fierce heroic glow, 



'Twas theirs to yield but wild hozanaahs. 



The Sergeant heard the shrill hurrahs, 

 Where he behind in step was keeping : 



But glancing down beside the road. 

 He saw a little maid sit weeping. 



" And how is this ?" he gruffly said, 

 A moment musing to regard her : — 



" Why weepest thou my litde chit ?" — 

 And then she only cried the harder. 



" And how is this, my little chit," 

 The sturdy trooper straight repeated, 



" When all the village cheers us on. 

 That you in tears aparc are seated ? 



" We march two hundred thousand strong ! 



And that's a sight my baby beauty, 

 To quicken silence into song 



And glorify the soldier's duty." 



"It's very grand, I know." 



The little maid gave soft replying ; 

 " And Father, Mother, Brother, too. 



All say 'hurrah!' while I am crying; 



" But think— Mr. Soldier, think, 



flow many little sisters' brothers 

 Are going all away to fight. 



And may he killed, as well as others!" 



"Why bless thee, child," the Sergant said. 

 His brawny hand her curls caressing, 



'lis left for little onesake you 



To find that War's not all a blessing.". 



And " Bless thee !" once again he cried ; 



Then cleared his throat and looked indignant, 

 And marched away with wrinkled brow, 



To stop the struggling tear benignant' 



And still the ringing shouts went up 



From doorway, thatch, and field of tillage : 



The pall behind the standard seen 

 By one alone, of all the village. 



The oak and cedar bend and writhe, 

 When roars the wind through gap and broken : 



Bnt 'tis the tenderest reed of all 

 That trembles first when Earth is 8hak«a. 



