AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
251 
no shadows would fall; but seo how'coolingly 
they rest on the side of that hill!”— Mrs. E. 
Oakes Smith, in U. S. Magazine. 
MR. AND MRS. SPARROWGRASS 
RETIRE PROM TnE CITV TO ENJOY RURAL LIFE. 
When Mrs. Sparrowgrass and I moved into 
the country, with our heads full of fresh butter, 
and cool, crisp radishes for tea; with ideas en¬ 
tirely lucid respecting milk, and a looseness of 
calculation as to the number in family it would 
take a good laying hen to supply with fresh 
eggs every morning; when Mrs. Sparrowgrass 
and I moved into the country, we found some 
preconceived notions had to be abandoned, and 
some departures made from the plans we had laid 
down in the little back parlor in avenue G. 
One of the first achievements in the country 
is early rising! with the lark—with the sun— 
while the dew is on the grass, “ under the open¬ 
ing eye-lids of the morn,” and so forth. Early 
rising. What can be done with five or six 
o’clock in town? What may not be done at 
those hours in the country ? With the hoe, the 
rake, the dibble, the spade, the watering-pot? 
To plant, prune, drill, transplant, graft, train, 
and sprinkle! Mrs. S. and I agreed to rise 
early in the country. 
“Ricliard and Robin were two pretty men, 
They laid in the bed till the clock struck ten : 
Up jumped Richard and looked at the sky ; 
O brother Robin the sun’s very high !” 
Early rising in the country is not an instinct; 
it is a sentiment, and must be cultivated. 
A friend recommended me to send to the 
south side of Long Island for some very prolific 
potatoes—the real hippopotamus breed. Down 
went my man, and what with expenses of horse- 
hire, tavern bills, toll-gates, and breaking a wa¬ 
gon, the hippopotami cost as much a piece as 
wine-apples. They were fine potatoes though, 
with comely features, and large, languishing 
eyes, that promised increase of family without 
delay. As I worked my own garden, (for 
which I hired a landscape gardener at two dol¬ 
lars per day to give me instructions,) I con¬ 
cluded that the object of my first experience in 
early rising should be the planting of the hip¬ 
popotamuses. I accordingly rose next morning 
at five, and it rained! I rose next day at five, 
and it rained! The next, and it rained! It 
rained for two weeks! We had splendid pota¬ 
toes every day for dinner. “ My dear,” said I 
to Mrs. Sparrowgrass, “ where did you get these 
fine potatoes?” “Why,” said she, innocently, 
“ out of that basket from Long Island!” The 
last of the hippopotamuses were before me, 
peeled and boiled, and mashed, and baked, with 
a nice thin brown crust on the top. 
I was more successful afterward. I did get 
some fine seed potatoes in the ground. But 
something was the matter; at the end of the 
season I did not get as many out as I put in. 
Mrs. Sparrowgrass, who is a notable house¬ 
wife, said to me one day, “Now, my dear, we 
shall soon have plenty of eggs, for I have been 
buying a lot of young chickens.” There they 
were, each one with as many feathers as a grass¬ 
hopper, and a chirp not louder. Of course, we 
looked forward with pleasant hopes to the pe¬ 
riod when the first cackle should announce the 
milk-white egg, warmly deposited in the hay, 
which we had provided bountifully. They 
grew finely, and one day I ventured to remark 
that our hens had remarkably large combs, to 
which Mrs. S. replied, “ Yes, indeed, she had 
observed that; but if I wanted to have a real 
treat, I ought to get up early in the morning 
and hear them crow.” “Crow,” said I faintly, 
“our hens crowing! Then, by ‘the cock that 
crowed in the morn, to wake the priest all 
shaven and shorn,’ we might as well give up all 
hopes of having eggs,” said I, “for, as sure as 
you live, Mrs. S., our hens are all roosters!” 
And so they were roosters! that grew up and 
fought with the neighbors’ chickens, until there 
was not a whole pair of eyes on either side of 
the fence. 
A dog is a good thing to have in the country. 
I have one which I raised from a pup. He is a 
good, stout fellow, and a hearty barker and 
feeder. The man of whom I bought him said 
he was thorough-bred, but he begins to have a 
mongrel look about him. He is a good watch¬ 
dog though, for the moment he sees any suspi¬ 
cious-looking person about the premises he 
comes l'ight into tho kitchen and gets behind 
the stove. First wc kept him in the house, and 
he scratched all night to get out. Then we 
turned him out, and he scratched, all night to 
get in. Then we tied him up at the back of the 
garden, and he howled so that our neighbor 
shot at him twice before daybreak. Finally, we 
gave him away, and he came back; and now he 
is just recovering from a fit, in which ho has 
torn up the patch that had been sown for our 
spring radishes. 
A good strong gate is a necessary article for 
your garden. A good, strong, heavy gate, with 
a dislocated hinge, so that it will neither open 
nor shut. Such an one had I last year. The 
grounds before my fence are in common, and 
all the neighbors’ cows pasture there. I re¬ 
marked to Mrs. S., as we stood at the window 
in June last, how placid and picturesque the 
cattle looked, as they strolled about, cropping 
the green herbage. Next morning I found the 
innocent creatures in my garden. They had 
not left a green thing in it. The corn in the 
milk, the beans on the poles, the young cabbage, 
the tender lettuce, even the thriving shoots on 
my young fruit trees had vanished. And there 
they were, looking quietly on the ruin they had 
made. Our watch-dog, too, was fore-gathering 
with them. It was too much, so I got a large 
stick and drove them all out, except a young 
heifer, whom I chased all over the flower-beds, 
breaking down my trellises, my woodbines and 
sweet-briers, my roses and petunias, until I cor¬ 
nered her in the hot-bed. I had to call assist¬ 
ance to extricate her from the sashes, and her 
owner sued me for damages and recovered. I 
believe I shall move in town .—Knickerbocker 
Magazine. 
-*-f-|-- 
HAVE A TRADE. 
By all means have a trade. Do not go up 
and down in the world, and find nothing you 
can put your hand to. You may not always 
be as prosperous as you. are now. This is a 
mutilating planet—the man that is up to-day 
may be down to-morrow. Thank heaven we 
live in no land of primogeniture, hereditary suc¬ 
cession. Each man is morally bound by labor. 
Have something you can turn your energies to 
when times pinch—have a trade, we repeat. 
Educate your hands; it will be an everlasting 
resource. We never knew a man who, with a 
good trade, failed of getting a good living, and 
much more with right application. What 
though you are going to college, or into a pro¬ 
fession ? The case is not altered—you need it 
just as much. It will come in play every day 
of your life. Discipline of the hand should al¬ 
ways go before that of the head. We never 
knew a college boy that wasn’t better for a sub¬ 
stantial trade. He always graduates with the 
highest honors. Ho is sure to be a scholar. 
The fact is, he knows how to work—to conquer. 
He but transfers himself from the shop to the 
study. Young man, decide at once to learn a 
trade, apply yourself with all your mind and 
heart, and be its master, and if you are not 
obliged to work at it, you have laid by so much, 
and such a kind of wealth can never be taken 
from you. 
The above suggestions we take from our 
drawer. We like them, and would add that 
farming is one of the best trades. In this oc¬ 
cupation there is always a demand for journey¬ 
men, and openings for bos-workmen and em¬ 
ployers. 
- « -- 
Newspapers vs. Whiskey. — An Irishman 
who was once on a journey, said he never liked 
to see tables full of newspapers where he stop¬ 
ped over night, “for,” said he “I can never 
find any whiskey at such places.” A shrewd 
inference. 
EXTRAORDINARY ’INSTANCE OF FIDELITY 
IN A YOUNG DOG. 
I was hunting along the Sierra Del Cobre 
last fall—having with me a pointer pup of eight 
months old at the time—in pursuit of turkeys. 
Having killed two, night came on, when I 
kindled a fire and laid down till morning. Day¬ 
light and the gobblers aroused me, and I re¬ 
newed my hunt. My pup, being but partly 
trained, impatient at the repeated snapping of 
caps (the powder being dampened the night 
previous) at a flock of Mr. Gallipavos, within 
fifty yards of me, suddenly sprang forward, and 
put up the birds. I chided him very severely 
but did not beat him, and followed on after the 
turkeys, telling the dog to remain there. I 
I found them on lofty pines, some distance off, 
on the edge of a ravine, and soon brought down 
two. with my rifle. I called my dog then, but 
he did not come; I wandered on, and passed, as 
I supposed, not far from where I had left him. 
But I must have been mistaken in the place. 
I called again. I then visited the last night’s 
camp—he was not there—then walked back to 
the fort, expecting he had gone home; (some ten 
miles;) my dog had not been seen. All the 
day I waited in vain. 
The next day 1 ordered one of my horses, 
with the intention of visiting the exact spot 
where I left the dog, expecting to find no more 
than his bones—for between Indians, grizzly 
bears, and wolves, his chance was poor. After 
a long search I found the spot, and great was 
my surprise and joy to find the faithful animal 
sitting in the same spot, on the side hill where 
I left him the morning before. He could not 
have heard me call him then; and had remained 
on the lone mountain the whole day and night. 
He has since proved an excellent animal, a first 
class retriever and steady hunter.— Spirit of the 
Times. 
California Poetry. —Wc always find at 
least one “ gem of purest ray serene” in the 
California papers. A Mr. Allen Lee Bours, in 
an original poem lately delivered before the 
Stockton Library Association, thus “ lets him¬ 
self out,” after delivering a severe castigation 
to naughty boys for disrespect to their parents : 
“ Indeed, my friends, far better would it seem, 
Were you to choose the other great extreme— 
Like one down East, who an umbrella took, 
And from the rain gave shelter to a duck : 
Who to a limping dog once lent his arm, 
And passing a sitting hen, said—‘don’t rise, ma’am.’ 
Nor e’en to lifeless things respect did lack, 
Said always to a chair ‘ excuse my back.’ 
‘ Excuse my curiosity,’ he said to books, 
And to his looking-glass, ‘ excuse my looks.’ ” 
-•-»«- 
Intemperance at the South. —A New-Or- 
leans paper makes the following statement: 
During the last year there was expended 
something near $30,000,000 for intoxicating 
drinks in this State; $20,000,000 of this was 
expanded in New-Orleans alone. There were 
made about 16,000 arrests, directly and indi¬ 
rectly, for drunkenness; in the city and State 
about 400 deaths by delirium tremens; about 
75 murders, besides a host of other crimes. 
Over 1000 have been reduced to vagrancy and 
pauperism; the resources of the State have been 
crippled; thousands have been kept out of em¬ 
ployment ; society at large has been seriously, 
deeply damaged in all its relations ; the health 
and energies of some of our best citizens have 
been destroyed and ruined in life. 
An Arkansas paper states that not less than 
one hundred horses have been killed in Union 
county, by the gnats, within the past two or 
three weeks. 
