I860.] 



THE SOUTHERN PLANTER. 



491 



collision of ideas, and thp experiments insti- 

 tuted with a view to sustain or upset the pe- 

 culiar views of the controversialists, may 

 end in the establishment of truth in the 

 theory^ and improvement in the practice of 

 agriculture. In this country we have less 

 to hope for in. this respect than in Europe, 

 in one sense, because new lands are so cheap ; 

 but more, in another sense, because our 

 farming population is generally more en- 

 lightened, and more open to conviction and 

 improvement than the husbandmen of the 

 old countries; but even here a great reform 

 is necessary, and the better education of our 

 youths, who are destined for the profession 

 of agriculture, is loudly called for. It is 

 indeed a great political want, as on the pro- 

 ductiveness of the soil intimately depends 

 the prosperity of the nation. At present it 

 is rare to find a farmer who, by his educa- 

 tion, is competent to read and understand 

 the works of Liebig and of similar authors 

 on agricultural chemistry — although it is 

 now clearly demonstrable that by the teach- 

 ings of modern science, aided by enlight- 

 ened practical experience, must come all 

 real improvements in the theory of agricul- 

 ture. 



Let us hope that States, societies and 

 other communities, will take hold of this 

 energetically, and that the farmer be in- 

 duced to undergo some other training for 

 his useful profession, besides the ordinary 

 mechanical one. 



John Walton's Farm. 



" Hadn't you better subscribe for it T' 

 ■ "I tell you, no. I haint got the money 

 to spare; and if I had, I haint got the time 

 to waste over newspapers,'' said Eben Saw- 

 yer, with some emphasis. 



" But you will gain much information 

 from it in the course of a year, sir," pursued 

 John Walton. 



I tell you I don't want it." 



" Well, what do you say, Mr. Grummet ? 

 Shan't I have your name ?" 



" No, sir !" This was spoken so flatly 

 and bluntly, that Walton said no more, but 

 folded up the prospectus of a periodical 

 which he had with him, and then turned 

 away. 



Eben Sawyer and Ben Grummet were 

 two old farmers — that is, old at the busi- 

 ness, though they had only reached the 

 middle age of life; and after their young 



neighbor had gone, they expressed their 

 opinion concerning him. 



"He'll never make a farmer!" said Saw- 

 yer, with a shake of the head. " He spends 

 too much time over them papers and books 

 of his'n. He's a leetle mite above farmin', 

 in my opinion." 



''Them's my sentiments," responded Grum- 

 met. "I tell you, Eben, the man that thinks 

 to make a livin' on a farm in this country, 

 has got to WORK for it." 



At this juncture, Sam Bancroft came 

 past. He was another old native of the 

 district. 



" We was just talkin' about young Wal- 

 ton," said Sawyer. 



" I've just come from there," replied 

 Sam. 



"He's been borin' me to sign for a paper; 

 but he couldn't come it !" 



" Ha, ha ! — so he bored us. He's gettin' 

 a leetle too high for a farmer." 



" He's rippin' his barn-floor up I" said 

 Bancroft. 



" Rippin' the floor up I" repeated Grum- 

 met. " Why, Mr. Amsden had the whole 

 floor put down new only three years ago." 



" The stable-floor, I mean," pursued Ban- 

 croft. "He's got a carpenter up from the 

 village; and his two hired men are helpin'." 



" Whew ! I opine he'll make a farmer !" 



And so they all opined — with a reserva- 

 tion. In short, there was something highly 

 ridiculous in the thought of a man's think- 

 ing to be a farmer and a student at the 

 same time; and all sorts of jests were dis- 

 charged over it. 



John Walton was a young man — some 

 five-and-twenty ; and though he had been 

 born in the neighborhood, yet much of his 

 life had been spent in other portions of the 

 country. His parents both died when he 

 was quite young, and his father's farm pass- 

 ed into the hands of a Mr. Amsden. But 

 now John had married, and he meant to be 

 a farmer; and his thoughts naturally turned 

 to the old homestead. He found Amsden 

 willing to sell, and he bought — paying five 

 hundred pounds down, and giving a note 

 and mortgage for five hundred, which had 

 been cashed by Mr. Piddon. 



This farming district was upon a broad 

 ridge of land, which had been cleared for a 

 great many years; and though they were 

 the handsomest and smoothest looking farms 

 in the parish, yet they were by no means the 

 best. The summit of the ridge was crown- 



