360 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
[September, 
in Texas, which came “alive and well” in little boxes 
by mail. Any of our young readers having friends in 
Texas and desiring such strange-looking “ pets,” can 
most likely get some of them by writing for them.— Eds.] 
Another of the ’©logics. 
The Boys and Girls have not had an ’Ology for some 
time—not since we spoke of Zoology in the May number. 
We have a great many kinds of fruit sent to us to name, 
that is, Mr. A. has a peach that he does not know the 
name of — the label lias 
been lost or something, or 
Mr. B. has, as he may 
think, a new kind of pear, 
or Mrs. C. a fine grape 
Which she wishes us to see 
and taste, or Miss D. lias 
“ a tree of her own which 
has borne some fruit for 
the first time,” or even 
MasterE sends us a little 
box all nicely packed full 
Of choice plums which lie 
Wishes us to' eat, with his 
compliments. Now, all 
this is Pomological arid the 
questions of this sort in 
legat'd to fruits are ques¬ 
tions in Pomology. This 
Was the first' ’Ology that 
We had.—But not all the 
boxes that come contain 
fruits. There are a good 
many that, when opened, 
yeveal some great beetle, 
some curious colored 
“worm” or destructive 
insect that may be eating 
the tomato vine, currant 
bush, or, as was the case 
With the army worm a few 
Weeks ago, making great 
havoc with the crops gen 
srally. All these questions 
about insects come under 
the head of Entomology— 
a Greek word which means 
a telling all about insectB 
—that part of knowledge 
Which has to do with those 
little six-legged animals, 
like fleas, June bugs, but¬ 
terflies, etc., which we call 
insects. When one of 
these little boxes comes 
and we find upon opening 
it that it contains a bug or 
a beetle—there is a differ¬ 
ence between a bug and a 
beetle—or a moth, etc., 
that we are not familiar 
With, then we turn to a 
number of books in which 
these various — yes thou¬ 
sands of—insects are de¬ 
scribed, explained and 
pictured, and find the one 
that is like the one sent. 
All this is looking the in¬ 
sect up in the books on Entomology. An Entomologist 
is one that has made a study of insects and become ac¬ 
quainted with the world of bugs and butterflies. This 
Is well for every boy and girl to do as much as possi¬ 
ble.—In this way you will understand Entomology, or 
the science of insects ; in fact, become an Entomologist. 
At tlie Fall-.—As we look over the premium lists of 
the various State, County, Town and other Fairs that are 
how coming to our office, we frequently find a “Youth's 
department,” in which prizes are offered for various 
kinds of things that can be made or raised by children. 
This isas it should be ; and for the sake of the boys and 
girls we say to all—Something should be done for the 
children at the fairs—so that they, as well as their fathers 
and mothers, may he exhibitors. But if your fair has 
no Children’s Department you ought to go all the same, 
and see all the fine things that grown folks bring. It is | 
hot best to go entirely for the fun of the thing, and spend' 
all the time in the side shows that are very ready to take 
Up your lime and your money. If you are a boy it may 
be that you will be the most interested in the cattle—the 
line steers, etc., or it may be that tlie poultry will be the j 
most attractive, and by spending an hour or so there you 
inay learn something about the different breeds that will 
be of use. at home. The girls will naturally enjoy the 
display of household goods, the fine quilting, embroidery. 
Wax work, flowers, etc. The fair is a great place for j 
gaining information if the time there is rightly employed. * 
'2'1m; Tired. Nut-Gatherers. 
When I was a boy 1 What a world of things come into 
my mind at the thought contained in ttiose five short 
words—“ When I was a boy.” How they carry me back 
to the happy days of my childhood when everything was 
new to me, because 1 was new to the world. To the 
time when my tough, bare feet were ready to go any¬ 
where and for anything that my childish fancy might 
suggest was worth the while. No city life was mine; 
the fields of my early days were the green ones of the 
country, and perhaps therefore the more interesting in 
memory. Like most boys, I had a mate with whom I 
spent most of my play hours, sharing our pleasures and 
pains together—helping each other into petty troubles, 
and as eagerly helping each other out. If the sheep were 
to lie washed, George and I were together, and ttie lambs 
had their wool made perhaps a little whiter by our 
squeezing, though fun, rather than clean wool, was what 
we were after. When the steers were old enough for the 
yoke, it took both of us to manage them. The water¬ 
melons that, George had cared for in his garden were 
mine, and the peaches and pears in our orchard were his 
by the same right. It was silently understood between 
us that our things were in common—a no uncommon 
thing with boys, and girls too, that are mated. One of 
the most pleasant times in the whole year was when the 
nuts were ripening on tlie trees. To gather a fine lot of 
them for the long winter evenings was our ambition, as 
it is of nearly every boy that I have ever met. On this 
One point squirrels and boys agree, and at nutting time, 
if not the whole year, these two kinds of nut-gatherers 
are not. in love with each other. That which troubled us 
most was the earliness in the season with which the 
squirrels opened their work. It seemed as if they knew 
that in order to get their winter’s supply of food, they 
must get into the trees before we did, Besides, they had 
their Whole time from early morning to late evening, and 
every day in the week, Sundays not excepted. They had 
no water to carry to the thirsty workmen; they had no 
chores to do around the house, no errands to the village 
or the neighbors—Saturday afternoons were not holidays 
to them, because, as we thought, the squirrel’s life was a 
kind of perpetual holiday. One year the squirrels were 
uncommonly thick, and the nuts were not so abundant 
as usual, both of which facts combined to make our show¬ 
ing for a good supply of winter nuts a poor one. The 
chattering nut-gatherers seemed to come in swarms, and 
the woods resounded to the hunter’s gun," but with little 
effect upon the numbers of the fur-bearing, nut-loving 
animals. All this while the nuts were growing scarce, 
and George and I knew it, 
as we did our part of the 
farm work — carrying a 
plow point to the back 
field, or helping to build a 
fence along the wood lot. 
It was aggravating to us 
to see them so saucy in 
their way of taking off our 
nuts. At last, Saturday 
afternoon came, and we 
were bound to do what we 
could to drive the squirrels 
from the wood lot, and a! 
the same time get all th^ 
nuts we could for our¬ 
selves. It was a hard day’s 
work, but we felt that it 
was our last chance, and 
we went into the fight, so 
to speak, with a will. If 
we could get but few nuts 
we would at least make it 
troublesome for the squir¬ 
rels to add much to their 
stores. We had a big time, 
but we would not say we 
had the worst of the bar¬ 
gain. To follow a running 
squirrel who has the high¬ 
way of the fence, or the 
tall tree tops,when you are 
obliged to dodge around 
trees and stumble over 
stumps and stones, is not 
an easy matter; but in the 
excitement of the chase it 
can be done for hours with¬ 
out a thought of getting 
tired. This was our ex¬ 
perience ; but in the long 
run the squirrels have the 
best of it, and though 
“ driven from the field ’’ 
they can claim a sort of 
victory, because they come 
out ahead. All that after¬ 
noon we ran and climbed 
—rushing through thickets 
and over brush fences, 
through deep ravines and 
up hillsides, following first 
one squirrel and then an¬ 
other, until it was lost in 
the dense foliage of a tall 
tree, or safe at home in 
some hollow log. As the 
sun got low in the western 
sky we found ourselves 
far from home in the thickness of the forest. We had 
chased a little noisy nut-gatherer to his storehouse, and 
were paid for our trouble in the hat full of nuts which we 
raked from the end of an old hollow basswood log. We 
felt tired, and sat down to rest and have a taste of the 
fruits of our pursuit. We found a good place near 
some rocks, upon the side of an open ravine, and 
with a small stone began to crack and eat some 
nuts. We did not crack and eat long before we 
fell asleep, and went over again in our dreams the ex¬ 
ploits of tlie day. The moou was well up when we 
awoke, and by its pale light two tired boys—though 
somewhat rested by the long nap upon the mossy stones 
—found their way home and went quietly to bed. The 
other day we saw a picture made by Messrs. Harrout and 
Bierstadt, that reminded me so much of how George and 
I must have looked as we rested on the mossy rocks, that 
I have had our.artist engrave it for the hoys and girls of 
the great American Agriculturist Family. You can not 
but enjoy the nap of the Tired Nut-Gatherers, as it is 
taken in eacli other’s arms upon the rocky edge. A 
penny for their thoughts yon may say, hut no money will 
buy their dreams; they were ours to keep. I can not 
go farther with our squirrel hunt—and perhaps you may 
think we went far,enough with it as it. is told—but must 
leave you, hoping that fewer squirrels and more nuts 
may lie your good fortune—that you may be less tired at 
the close of your nutting afternoon, and have less holes 
in your clothes than did George and your Uncle Hit, 
THE TIRED NUT-GATHERERS AT REST AFTER THEIR LONG CHASE. 
