280 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
[September, 
THE PET RABBITS. 
The Editor with his Young Readers. 
Abont tlie Picture. 
What makes this such a pleasant picture to look 
upon ? Rabbits are very pretty creatures, and the 
hoy who is petting them is a line, chubby, good na- 
iured little fellow, but something more than all this 
draws our attention to the scene. Is it not because 
the boy loves his rabbits—as you can see by the 
tenderness with which he handles and fondles them? 
There is nothing so beautiful as love ; and nothing 
can make one half so attractive, as a loving nature. 
We know a teacher, whom you would prouounce, 
at first sight, to be one of the homeliest and most 
disagreeable looking men you could imagine. He 
is deformed, his complexion is very dark, and his 
features are repulsive; yet his scholars think 
him the most attractive of men. He is so kind, so 
just, and so affectionate, that the boys forget his 
outward appearance, and think only of his charac¬ 
ter, and they say “ he is a beautiful man.” 
It is a good thing for children to have pets; it 
teaches them to be loving, patient, and gentle, for 
only in that way can animals be made tame and 
confiding. The best pet is a younger brother or sis¬ 
ter, but if you have not these, then keep a dog, or 
a rabbit, or squirrel, or some animal that may be 
taught to love you. 
Rabbits will require some care to keep them well, 
and to prevent their doing mischief in the garden. 
A hutch, (or box,) should be provided, with an enclo¬ 
sure around it, where the rabbits maybe kept from 
doing mischief, and secure from dogs and other 
enemies. They feed upon almost all green vegeta¬ 
bles ; the weeds and surplus growth of the garden 
will furnish supplies for quite a family of rabbits. 
They should also have a daily allowance of dry 
feed, as oats, hay, etc. By proper attention, the 
rearing of rabbits may be made a profitable as well 
ns pleasant employment. 
A. Little Girl’s Logic. 
A little girl, six years old, was told the silly story 
that the moon i« made of green cheese. She re¬ 
plied that'she did not believe it, but was much 
troubled to prove it untrue. Finally, remembering 
that an account of the Creation is given in the Bi¬ 
ble, she read the first chapter of Genesis carefully, 
and then exclaimed triumphantly: “The moon can’t 
be made of green cheese, because it was made be¬ 
fore the cows were.” That was true logic. 
Lizzie and Her Flower Seeds. 
“ Dear me,” said little Lizzie Perry, one warm 
Saturday afternoon, “how I wish I had something 
to do. It seems twice as warm when you just sit 
still in a rocking chair, and do nothing. I have fed 
the canaries, and teazed poor Poll until she got 
vexed with me and made such a noise I could not 
stay in the arbor, though I boiled her an egg to 
make up. Now what can you think of, mother, 
that you would like to have me do.” 
The mother sat by the window busily sewing- 
white braid on a little buff sleeve of Willie’s. 
“Well, my dear,” she said, “I think you might 
gather the flower seeds this afternoon. It will be 
shady under the locust trees. Those sweet williams, 
and larkspurs, are all wasting, and so are the four- 
o’clocks, and the morning glories on the lattice.” 
“There is not much use in sowing the seed, 
mother, they will all come up just the same.” 
“ That is true, but you might give the seed to 
some one who has none. Do you not know of 
some place where they have no flowers, and where 
they might be induced to cultivate them ?” 
“Yes, mother, I pass half a dozen places every 
day as I go to school, where the factory people live, 
and they have not a flower about, though all have 
a bit of door-yard.” 
“Just think how pleasant it would look, to see 
flowers blooming all along that row, and morning 
glories climbing about the windows. Then what a 
blessing it would be to the poor hard-working peo¬ 
ple. My little daughter docs not appreciate the 
value of a refined, tasteful home, as she would af¬ 
ter living for a time in one of these poor places.” 
“ Oh, mother,” said Lizzie, with a little shudder 
at the bare possibility of such a thing. 
“ Well, we should do what we can to make their 
life brighter and better. Flowers are God’s little 
ministers, seut to bless and cheer alike the high 
and the lowly. I can not bear to see them wasted, 
when they might be cheering some lonely lot. I 
remember a lesson our gray-haired gardener taught 
me when a child. We had been taking up roses and 
lilacs, and there were many more than we wanted. 
Our neighbors were well supplied, so I proposed 
throwing them away. ‘I think it would be wrong, 
Miss Clara, to waste these sweet gifts of God,’ said 
Philip, ‘I would rather plant them by tire wayside, 
where they may surprise and please some weary- 
footed traveler.’ So we concluded to set them out 
by the rustic seat near the bridge. They grew fast 
in the rich soil by the river, and I do not think the 
richest flower garden ever gave more delight. They 
were free to all, and foot travelers, and little chil¬ 
dren especially, enjoyed their fragrance. Good, old 
Philip, he was always trying to do some one a favor." 
Lizzie gathered her flower seeds that afternoon, 
and bestowed them as her mother proposed. They 
were received thankfully, for every one loved the 
little girl who passed them daily with such a pleas¬ 
ant face, and who always had a cheerful word for 
them. The next season they were planted about 
the doors, in little beds or boxes, and it was de¬ 
lightful to see the glow of sunshine they threw over 
the low brown cottages. And the glow was not 
confined to the outside, but came in at the open 
doors and windows, for sympathy with the pure 
and beautiful in nature, ever makes the heart softer 
and better. 
Nobody’s Baby. 
Contributed to the American Agriculturist by Mrs. 
C. II. Gildersleeve.—Returning from church ou Sab¬ 
bath afternoon, we passed a house just as a carriage 
was leaving the door, with a coffin on the front seat, 
and two or three sad faces on the other. Upon the 
low verandah stood children of all sizes, each with 
another edition of the same face, and all with great 
round tears rolling over their chubby cheeks. It 
was not the babe of that household, for there could 
be none younger than the one the eldest girl hugged 
up lovingly in her arms, and there was not room for 
another to have grown between any two of the 
group. Presently a shy but sympathetic child 
over the paling, said softly, “Don’t cry any more. 
It wan’t yours. It wan’t nobody’s, cause ’twas left.” 
A flash of indignation crossed the faces of the group, 
and one little fellow replied quickly; “What if it 
wan’t ours! It han’t got nobody to cry for it but us, 
and we loved it more for that.”....Don’t say the world 
is all selfishness. That there are no great, warm 
throbbing, loving hearts left. Don’t say there is no 
affection that seeketh large return. Here was a 
home that wealth passed by, but it was blessed with 
treasure that failed not, in abundance. Though 
there were many mouths, and little bread, there 
was room in their bosoms for the little outcast, and 
love to outlast its wailing life, and even tears when 
the gathering messenger came to replace the little 
bewildered soul back into Paradise. 
Cauglit in Ills own Trap. 
A very mean man once hired a servant girl for six 
months, agreeing to give her her board for her ser¬ 
vices. In a few weeks he discharged her, and the 
father of the girl sued the man for damages. When 
the case came to trial, the following conversation 
took place between the Judge and the defendant: 
Judge .—Why did you discharge the girl ? 
Defendant .—She was such an enormous eater. 
J .—But you agreed to board her for her work ? 
D. —Yes, your honor, but she eat so voraciously. 
J .—How much would it cost to feed her? One 
dollar a week ? 
D. —Oh, that isn’t a circumstance. 
J .—Perhaps a dollar and a half, or two dollars ? 
JJ .—Nothing less than two dollars and a half, I 
assure your honor. 
Ji—(With a merry twinkle in his eye) Well then, 
I give judgment that you pay to the girl two dol¬ 
lars and a half per week for the remaining time sho 
was engaged—which according to your own state¬ 
ment of the contract, is rvhat she is entitled to. 
