EE0-TIME AM© HARVEST. 
were left in the ground, where they grew 
a crop of seed, large quantities of which 
were shelled and left on the ground. The 
land was seeded to grass, as was common 
at the time, and the plat was used for a 
calf-pasture for years. The fence being 
old and poor, it was removed, and it all 
went into pasture, in which condition, it 
lay for thirty or forty years, till the field 
was brought into cultivation by the writer, 
and the first plowing produced fine flat tur¬ 
nips, and each year when that piece of 
land has been tilled, more or less turnips 
have grown on it. I conclude such seeds 
will live in the ground a long time before 
vitality is lost, and when all circumstances 
are favorable, they will vegetate and pro¬ 
duce their kind.” 
God Knows, Dear Friend. 
BY MRS. M. J. SMITH. 
No separating hedge 
With cruel thorn, 
To pierce and rankle heart and flesh, 
From morn to morn, 
Doth rise betwixt us two, dear friend. 
No hurt to hide, no taunt, 
No stinging word, 
Can I remember giving thee. 
Nor have I heard 
Unkind remarks from thee, dear friend. 
And so we journey on, 
Love giving love, 
And adding to the chain we hope 
To bear above— 
The cares and toils of earth, dear friend. 
For I am rich in care. 
And yet (God knows) 
I may negotiate for more. 
There’s no repose 
Where much is to be done, dear friend. 
I do not ask for ease; : 
But strength and will, 
To do what e’er my hands can find, 
So life to fill 
With willing, cheerful labor, friend. 
The world is over-full 
Of care. Of care. 
And pain-worn, sorrowing hearts 
Are everywhere, 
And should I seek for ease, dear friend ? 
’Twere wrong to fold my hands 
While others toil. 
While weaker hands such burdens lift 
Shall I recoil, 
And shirk hard duty, say, dear friend ? 
You love me much, my friend 
I do not know; • 
But give you back in golden coin 
Full weight I know. 
But I must have my way, dear friend* 
Oh friend! you do not know 
Me through and through. 
’Tis but the little things of life 
I dare to do. 
God gives me no great mission, friend. 
He who performs a deed, 
A noble, worthy deed, 
May rest to gain a store of strength 
’Gainst time of need. 
Small workers count not much, my 
friend. 
* 
And yet, we have our niche 
To fill. Mine, dear, 
Is but a little one. If I 
Could only cheer, 
Or help some poor crushed soul, to rise, 
I should be quite content. 
Long years ago, 
I found I had no wings to soar 
Above my duties low; 
So I am led. God knows, dear friend. 
Women as Poultry Kaisers. 
BY JOHN W. CA.UGHEY. 
The custom practiced in France of allow¬ 
ing the wife so many francs a month, or 
year, as pin money to use as she pleases, 
is one that should be generally adopted, es¬ 
pecially in the United States. On the farm, 
the care and profits of some, if not all the 
poultry, could be very properly transferred 
to the women of the household. The care 
of poultry is a business naturally adapted 
to women, as it requires patience and at¬ 
tention, and at the same time, kindness 
