AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
Designed to improve all Classes interested in Soil Culture. 
AGRICULTURE IS THE MOST HEALTHFUL, THE MOST USEFUL, AND THE MOST NOBLE EMPLOYMENT OF MAN —WASHINGTON 
OEAHfiE JUDD, A. M., 
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. 
IOTIBM1HI1III Ut. 
$1.00 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE. 
SINGLE NUMBERS 10 CENTS. 
VOL. XVII.—No. 6.] 
NEW-YORK, JUNE, 1858. 
[NEW SERIES—No. .137. 
l^’Office at 189 Wateust,) (Near Fulton st.) 
igpFor Contents, 'Jferms, &c. sec page 192. 
[copy right secured.] 
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1858, 
by Orange Judd, in the Clerk’s Office of the District 
Court of the United States for the Southern District of 
New-York. 
Special Note to Editors. 
The above Copy-Right is only taken out as a security 
against certain literary poachers, who constantly draw 
upon the pages of this Journal, (mainly original,) without 
giving a shadow of credit. 
N. 51,—Every Journal is invited freely to copy 
any and all desirable articles, and no use or advantage 
will be taken of the Copy-Right, wherever each article 
or illustration is duly accredited to the American Agri¬ 
culturist,. ORANGE JUDD, Proprietor. 
American Agriculturist in ©mnan. 
Hereafter, beginning with the July number, the 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST -will be published in 
Doth the English and German Languages. Both 
Editions will be of uniform size, and contain as 
nearly as possible the same Articles and Ulnustra- 
iions. The German Edition will he furnished at 
the same rates as the English. For Prospectus see 
jage 192. 
-«• «-—B -1 o. 
June. 
“ Good Lord ! it is a gracious boon 
For thought-crazed wight like me, 
To smell again these Summer flowers, 
Beneath this Summer tree ! 
To suck once more, in every breath. 
Their little souls away. 
And feed my fancy with fond dreams 
Of youth’s bright Summer day ; 
When rushing forth, like untamed colt, 
The reckless truant boy 
Wandered through green woods all day long, 
A mighty heart of joy.” 
Every one comes to this beautiful month with 
a sensation of relief. To the citizen, pent up 
within brick walls, and driven with the cares of 
business, the Summer vacation is now in near 
prospect, when he may go forth to luxuriate in 
green meadows, to climb mountains and catch 
trout, to bathe in the surf and dream of sharks 
vnd man-eaters. He will soon bid adieu to blot¬ 
ters and ledgers, to omnibuses and cab-men, to 
croton-water and gas-light. He will taste the 
sweets of Nature in their unadulterated simplicity. 
He will seek the remotest haunts of rural life 
where people rise to meet the morning sun, and 
genuine starlight illumines all the streets. He 
will get away from this “ everlasting whirl and 
bustle,” read his morning papers, two days old, by 
the dim flare of a tallow candle, light himself to 
bed in the attic by the same, sleep in bounteous 
real goose feathers, and dream of purgatory. It 
will be—what all hearts crave—a change. He 
V7ill leave behind many comforts, and many of the 
necessities of his artificial life in the city. But it 
is a mighty comfort to get away from comforts, 
sometimes; to miss your cup of Java, and be 
treated to burnt peas and ship-bread, in due pro¬ 
portions ; to miss your hair-stuffed mattress, and 
swelter upon feathers and cotton sheets un¬ 
bleached. 
That majestic swell of the organ that so fills 
our souls with the spirit of devotion upon the 
Sabbath, might become as harsh and ear-breaking 
as the notes of the Italian music grinder under 
our window, if it were kept up all the week. We 
get sick of dainties and crave something that is a 
little coarse and unsodden. The raw beef that 
was the rage among the ton in Paris, a while 
since, is only a natural outworking of this pro¬ 
pensity. We do not always want beef “ a la 
mode.” We become disgusted with fixings, and 
cry out for food and raiment “ an natural .” 
No mode at all is much better than all the ac¬ 
complishments M. Soyer can throw around a din¬ 
ner. 
Hence the annual hegira of our city popula¬ 
tion, who can afford it, to the rural retreats, to 
the “ Springs” and to the “ Falls,” to the moun¬ 
tains and to the surf, to the coasts of Labrador, 
and to the head waters of the Missouri. 
June also brings its sensation of relieftothe cul¬ 
tivator of the soil, but there is much less, of the 
spirit of the untamed colt in him of which the 
poet speaks. Hard work and cares have subdued 
its friskiness, and he does not attempt to clear a 
seven rail fence, from the mere love of jumping, 
quite so often as the man fresh from town. His 
reputation for agility is well established, and he 
has no need to kick up his heels to prove that he 
has as much bone and muscle as his neighbor. 
But the lord of the soil has his solicitudes and 
ennui as well as the citizen. The Spring rains 
and the cold easterly winds try his patience be¬ 
yond measure. It did seem as if he would never 
get a chance to sow his oats, or plant his corn. 
The sheep looked thin, and he was fearful that he 
should lose half his lambs to be hung as a neck¬ 
lace upon his apple trees. 
But June brings relief to many of his solici¬ 
tudes. The seeds are sown, and are actually up ; 
though he can hardly tell how they came up, it has 
been so cold and backward. Was there ever a 
season when this wretched climate of ours was 
not backward, in April and May! These two 
months seem to have been born with an extra 
amount of breeching. Their main office seems 
to be to hold back the advancing year. But June 
is a fast month, a true type of Young America. 
It is a great satisfaction to the farmer who has 
been broken off from his planting half the days in 
the week, to have clear skies and full swing to 
work. The corn is actually up, and not more than 
one kernel in ten has failed to come. The oats 
look well, the wheat and rye are promising; and 
the lambs and colts, whatever may be said of 
their owner, are frisky enough to suit the taste 
of the wildest uncaged youth of the city. 
The season is fast coming to a crisis, and the 
I farmer can already tell pretty nearly what its char¬ 
acter will he. The hay crop is already deter¬ 
mined, and with a few extra showers it would be 
more than an average. The wheat and rye crop 
are also within the range of calculation, and he 
has estimated the yield per acre. The yield of 
his herds and flocks are already before his eyes, 
and he has only the corn and potato crop to 
worry about, and to remind him that he has not 
yet reached Paradise. 
Now, if ever, the husbandman can enjoy his la¬ 
bors; he has not yet reached the harvest, but is 
full of hope in regard to it. The pleasures of an¬ 
ticipation are his. He looks for a little better 
harvest than he ever gathered, and everything 
pushes along so rapidly now, that it warrants al¬ 
most any prophecy concerning its future. The 
earth is in its greatest luxuriance, the forest has 
donned its Summer drapery and the meadows are 
fragrant with the blossoming grasses. The breath 
of June roses comes up to him from every gar¬ 
den, and a sweeter breath from the flowers am ‘ 
young olive plants that cluster around his table. 
But let him not be too easy in his pleasing an¬ 
ticipations. We are never more liable “to court 
the chickens before they are hatched" than at this 
season. The hoed crops now demand constant 
attention. Cultivation is the great work of June, 
and we never come so near to being disciples of 
Jethro Tull, as when we see the luxuriance that 
follows the constant use of the hoe and the cul¬ 
tivator. Whether you believe in pulverization or 
not, keep these implements moving, early and 
late. A farmer cannot spend this whole month 
more profitably than in stirring the soil among the 
cultivated crops. 
Frequent cultivation will bring all the ele¬ 
ments of Nature to your aid, and make the most 
of the manure that you have worked into your 
soil. Hoe a row of cabbage plants every other 
morning, and another row only once a month, 
and you will see a marked difference, though the 
sail, manure, and treatment, are, in every other 
respect, alike. If the soil be not frequently stirred, 
the surface becomes crusted over. The rains do 
not run into it so readily, and the roots lose a 
large part of the benefit of the dews. The air 
cannot circulate beneath this crust with freedom, 
and the decomposition of the manures in the soil 
cannot go on so rapidly. The plant cannot sus¬ 
tain its highest vigor and take up that carbonic 
acid that is ever floating in the atmosphere and 
enters into the food of all plants so largely. They 
absorb it into their systems, and while the carbon 
is retained, they throw off the oxygen, and thus 
purify the air. The atmosphere is also charged 
with moisture, which is condensed by the cooler 
temperature of the earth at night-fall, and descends 
upon the soil. If this be fine and loose by recent 
stirring the moisture is absorbed at once, and is 
appropriated by the roots of plants. Cultivation 
is to the crops after they are up, what action is to 
oratory, the first thing, the second thing, and the 
last thing. Therefore, cultivate—hoe ! hoc !! 
hoe ! 1 ! HOE ! I !! 
