AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST 
407 
and pouring forth his notes in so voluble a 
way, is just from Washington. Any body can 
see that there is the “ doings of Congress” and 
“ human progress” (paradoxical as the connec¬ 
tion may appear) in every toss of his plumed 
head and every glance of his black eye. 
This Red-Cottage garden is a famous place 
for studying nature, not only flower and bird- 
nature, but the real unadulterated human, in 
all its varieties, aspects, and phases: to wit, 
one day we were working, (“ we” means Lottie 
and I, and my name is Julie; none of your 
fanciful noms deplume , but a real honest name 
given me by my excellent and much revered 
parents in Christian baptism, when they stood 
together at the font with serious faces and 
prayerful hearts;) as I said, we were working 
among the roses, when an ancient dame of 
somewhat dried and shriveled appearance, as 
of a dweller in the immediate vicinity of a 
smoky chimney, her cheek much resembling a 
baked apple, which has been by accident left in 
the oven all night, came, and leaning her two 
elbows on the low garden-fence before us, 
looked down upon us sitting on the ground, 
with a business-face full of meaning. “Well,” 
said she, “I suppose you’ve got lots of them 
are smoke-pipes to give away. I should like 
some of em dreadful well for my Sabina Jane ; 
she’s terrible fond of posies ; she’s always teas¬ 
in’ my life out about ’em.” 
The “ smoke-pipes” she pointed out, dear edi¬ 
tors, were rare flowers, which we regard as the 
very apple of our eye, the real poet’s Narcis¬ 
sus ! and I know that that famous personage 
could not have been more deeply in love with 
his water-reflected image, than are we with 
these lovely flower-cups. 
You should have seeen the look which Lottie 
cast upon the cool intruder; a mingling of re¬ 
proach and amazement. However, as it is not 
in her little heart to disappoint any living thing, 
if she can help it, she compromised the matter 
by bestowing some daffodils, of the common 
sort, with which I have no doubt Sabina Jane 
was highly delighted; at any rate, her ancient 
mamma went away in a state of enviable delec¬ 
tation, with the roots wrapped up in her red- 
cotton pocket-handkerchief. 
Scarcely had the folds of her Circassin dress 
rattled round the corner, before a man rode up 
to the fence, and after tieing his horse to a fine 
young maple, just putting forth its pale-green 
leaves, and which the animal of course cropped 
at his leisure, he came through the gate, leaving 
it open, treading remorselessly upon some lovely 
white pansies in his path, as he cut across one 
of the flower-beds for shortness. He held to 
his nose a tulip he had plucked, as he passed, 
wherewith to refresh himself as he walked, like 
Bunyan’s Pilgrim. When he had inhaled a 
satisfactory sniff of the perfume, (it was named 
in the catalogue “ Lady Mercer, apple-scented, 
very choice.” It was only one year from Hol¬ 
land, and bloomed for the first time in its new 
home,) he held it out towards us with a jerk, 
and said very nonchalantly, “ Have you got any 
of these ere roots to spare? I’ve g’en a little 
piece of ground to my darters to sow their 
flowers in, and I thought as I was a ridin’ by I’d 
stop and git a few plants for them. You’ve got 
a pretty sprinklin’ of posies, and I reckon you 
can let me have a few roots as well as not. I 
should like a couple of these ere hollyhocks 
well enough,” (pointing to a beautiful early 
althea in the border.) 
“ I can sell you some of my bulbs,” said 
Lottie, peeping slyly at me from under her sun- 
bunnet; “I buy all my flowers, and pay large 
prices for some of the choice ones.” She had 
grown crafty by the repetition and frequency of 
these applications. The Red-Cottage stood upon 
a much-traveled road, and in the immediate vicin¬ 
ity of a toll-gate, where all the budding beauties 
of the garden shone temptingly upon the pass¬ 
ers, as they stopped to pay their three cents for 
the use of the plank-road. 
“ Weli,” said the flower-seeker, putting out 
his foot reflectively, “ how much would you tax 
me for one of them are red ones ? I never did 
spend any money for posies; but I shant mind 
a sixpense or so to please my gals. I guess I’ll 
take one of these, too,” (breaking off a splen¬ 
did full-cupped rose from a new hybrid perpe¬ 
tual.) 
“I can’t part with any of those roses at any 
price; I have never seen them bloom before, 
and the roots won’t bear disturbing; but you 
may have a tulip bulb for two dollars.” 
Positively it was as good as a play to see the 
look of blank amazement and affright which 
stole over the astonished face of the father of 
the “gals.” “Two dollars!” repeated he 
slowly in a kind of subdued whistle ; he slap¬ 
ped his pockets to convince himself that he had 
not already “gone and done it.” No! the 
purse was there all right and tight, and he hus¬ 
tled off as fast as he could without another word. 
His horse, in the mean time, had not barked 
the pretty maple more than half around, (we 
tied it up and hope it will live.) The last we 
saw of the horse and his rider, the purloined 
bouquet was hopping up and down in his dis¬ 
engaged hand, while he went up the street at 
full gallop. 
So people think it is nothing to rear flowers, 
and call it the height of meanness if the owner 
is not willing to bestow them upon any one who 
will take the trouble to carry them away. Is 
not this too bad, Messrs. Editors?— Julie, in 
Independent , of August 24. 
- 1 « *- 
WHO MAKE THE BEST WIVES 1 
“ By all means marry a woman with money,” 
say careful fathers to their sons ; “ you’ll find it 
as easy as not to get a suitable wife, who has a 
little fortune.” “Give me beauty, grace, and 
accomplishment,” is the mental answer of 
enthusiastic youth, “and leave mercenary con¬ 
siderations to baser souls.” 
We submit that neither is right. It is infi¬ 
nitely more important that a young man should 
choose a healthy, amiable, and intelligent part¬ 
ner, than that he should select either a beauty 
or an heiress. The latter has usually expensive 
habits, and, by the time she has been married 
twenty years, has cost her husband the amount 
of her fortune in superfluities. Besides, heir¬ 
esses are generally brought up in idleness, 
spending their time in reading novels, lounging 
about on the sofa, or acquiring a taste for fash¬ 
ionable dissipation; so that they are either 
absurdly romantic or out of health from want 
of exercise, or from late hours, and therefore, 
entirely unfit to make good wives. Beauties, 
on the other hand, mostly are vain or giddy, if 
not both. If wives were designed for play¬ 
things, or had no purpose beyond being parlor 
ornaments a beauty might be desirable, just as 
pictures are, or fine furniture. The man who 
marries an heiress sacrifices his independence, 
and ends by finding he is out of pocket also. 
The lover who weds merely for beauty ties him¬ 
self to a doll, which has not even the merit of 
being sure to keep its painted cheeks. 
Those women make the best wives who com¬ 
bine common sense with good temper, who have 
been brought up to help themselves, and who 
bring sound constitutions, equable spirits, and a 
sincere affection, as a dowry to their lovers. A 
wife should be her husband’s best friend—she 
should be competent to counsel him in difficul¬ 
ties, to cheer him in sorrow, to render his 
every-day hearth the pleasantest spot to him to 
be found any where. If she has confirmed ill 
health she cannot be all this to him; neither 
can she if she has a crooked temper, or habits 
of indolence, or is deficient in practical sense. 
The woman whose whole heart is devoted to 
show, to company, or to idle accomplishments, 
may possibly make an interesting belle, but she 
is sure to prove a very indifferent wife. We 
would not have young girls neglect the beauti¬ 
ful entirely ; but that which adorns should be 
made subservient to some more solid super¬ 
structure. To know how to play the last new 
air, yet be ignorant how to compound the last 
new pudding, is surely unpardonable. A man 
might as well neglect to learn a business as a 
woman refuse to acquire a knowledge of house¬ 
keeping. 
It is useless to disguise the fact that girls are 
too often directed to attract lovers rather than 
to retain the affection of husbands. This is 
especially true of the daughters of families 
above the necessity of daily labor. Mrs. F., the 
successful mechanic’s wife, makes a virtual slave 
of herself, by drudging late and early, in order 
that Anna Maria may be “ brought up,” as she 
phrases it, “ like a lady.” The young miss ac¬ 
cordingly is crammed with music, dancing, 
French, and other fiddle-faddles, is told always 
to carry her shoulders back, and never to romp, 
and is taught to consider work as degrading. 
What sort of a wife can such a creature make ? 
If she marries any body but a rich man her idle 
and expensive habits keep him always poor. If 
she catches a prize, which, perhaps, one in a 
thousand may do, ten to one she soon disgusts 
her husband. In another case she is always 
out of health, the consequence of want of ex¬ 
ercise in girlhood, and, if she has offspring, 
entails her weakness naturally on her progeny. 
Physicians do not hesitate to say that a large 
proportion of female invalids of the present 
generation—and their number is known to be 
legion—owe their complaints to the folly of pa¬ 
rents in neglecting to bring them up properly.— 
Philadelphia Ledger. 
Sheriden in the Coal-Cellar. — Sheriden is 
reported to have once fallen into a coal-cellar on 
his way home after a good supper at Drury 
Lane, and his abuse of the vender for not keep¬ 
ing a light at the cellar door was warmly re¬ 
torted by the wife. “ Hang it,” cried Sheriden, 
who was not much hurt, “ do you think I want 
to pocket your coals ?” “ No,” retorted the 
woman, “but your nose might set the coals on 
fire.” 
- • •* - 
Education of Dogs. —A writer in the London 
Examiner lately saw a blind man looking with 
much apparent interest at some prints in a shop 
window. “Why, my friend;” said we, “it 
seems you are not blind.” “ Blind! no, thank 
God, yer honor,” said the man, “ I have my 
blessed sight as well as another.” “ Then why 
do you walk about led by a dog with a string?” 
“ Because I hedicates dogs for blind men.” 
- © e •- 
Dog Taking the Part of a Horse.— The 
very last dog story is told of a fine Newfound¬ 
land at Sunderland, Georgia, which seized a 
carter by the throat and threw him down, be¬ 
cause he was beating his horse without reason. 
The Other Dogs.—A New-Orieans editor, 
recording the career of a mad dog, says: “ We 
are grieved to say that the rabid animal, before 
he could be killed, severely bit Dr. Hart, and 
several other dogs.” 
A Sensible Will. —The following is the copy 
of a will left by a man who chose to be his own 
lawyer:—“ This is the last will and testament 
of me, John Thomas. I give all my things to 
my relations, to be divided amongst them the 
best way they can. 
“ N. B.—If any body kicks up a row, or makes 
any fuss about it, he isn’t to have any thing. 
“ Signed by me. John Thomas.” 
- •-•-•-- 
Tom Hood. —The editor of the Times in¬ 
quired of Hood one day what he thought of his 
paper. “I like it all,” said the punster, “but. 
some of it is broken English.” The editor 
stared, and asked for an explanation. “ Why, 
the list of bankrupts, to be sure.” 
Many young ladies make fools of themselves 
by the looking-glass, many young men by the 
drinking glass. 
