AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST 
213 
THE RC03TERS LETTER. 
“Jerry, have the hens been attended to 1 ?” 
inquired Mrs. Preston, as the boys were 
about starting from home. 
“ I don’t know—I haven’t fed them,” re¬ 
plied Jerry. 
“You ought to know whether they are 
seen to or not; it’s your business to take 
care of them,” said his mother. “ Don’t 
you go off this morning till you have fed 
them. You ought to have done it an hour 
ago.” 
The care of the fowls had been committed 
to Jerry, but he did not feel much interest in 
them, and needed to be reminded of his duty 
pretty often. More than once the hens had 
been without food and water nearly a whole 
day, because he forgot to attend to them. 
Jerry now went back, in obedience to his 
mother, and gave the fowls their usual al¬ 
lowance of corn, and a vessel of fresh water. 
He also looked into the nests to see if 
there were any new-laid eggs; and he was 
not a little surprised to find in one of them 
a small billet, neatly folded up. and addressed 
“ To master Jerry.' 1 ' 1 He looked at it a mo¬ 
ment, and tried to imagine what it could be ; 
then he opened it, and read the following, 
which was neatly written with a pencil: 
“ The Henroost, May 25, 1855. 
“ Master Jerry: I have determined to write 
you a few words in behalf of my dear suffer¬ 
ing family. 
“The sun is scorching hot to-day, and yet 
we have not got a drop of water to save us 
from parching up. My poor biddies have 
been walking back and forth all day, panting 
for water, and calling for it as plain as they 
could speak ; but all in vain. \Ve have re¬ 
ceived our food at very irregular times, too, 
and sometimes we have had to keep fast 
nearly all day. If I were the only sufferer, 
I would say nothing about it. But I can not 
bear to see my poor flock dying by inches in 
this way. Do take pity on us, and see that 
we have plenty of corn and water hereafter. 
Some of my family, who pride themselvs on 
being good layers, complain that since you 
have kept us in such narrow quarters they 
can not find anything to make theiregg shells 
of. Now, if you would give us some old 
burnt bones, pounded up fine, or a little lime, 
once in a while, I do not think you will lose 
anything by it. And as you will not let us 
go out to scratch for ourselves, what is the 
reason that you can not dig us a few worms 
occasionally ? It would be a great treat to 
us. I hope you will heed my suggestions. 
If you do not, I can assure you of two things: 
you won’t have many eggs this summer, 
and fat chickens will be a scarce article in 
this neighborhood next Thanksgiving time. 
But Mrs. Yellowneck has just laid an egg, 
and I must help her cackle over it; so I will 
not write anything more at present, but sign 
myself, Your faithful, but afflicted, 
Shanghai Rooster.” 
Horn Snake. —The Eaton, O., Register 
says that a man living some miles west of 
that place, lately killed a “Horn Snake,” a 
reptile often talked of, but rarely seen. It 
is said to be a most venomous critter. The 
Register thus describes it: “ The monster 
thus.killed measures four feet in length, and 
the horn at the end of the tail—through an 
almost imperceptible hole from which the 
poison is ejected—was about an inch and a 
half long, spiral, sharp at the point, and so 
hard as to defy the effort to cut it with a 
knife.” 
The best rule of etiquette which we ever 
read, is this : “All things whatsoever ye 
would that men should do unto you, do ye 
even so unto them,'’ 
PRODUCTS OF A KITCHEN GARDEN. 
The editorof the Vermont Watchman gives 
the following account of his garden : 
Our garden is five rods wide, and ten rods 
long, skirting on both sides and at each end 
with apple, pear, plum, quince, and cherry 
trees, of numerous varieties, interspersed 
with currant, gooseberry, black and white 
raspberry bushes and flowers of numerous 
tints and hues. It was well manured with 
a compost of muck and the droppings and 
drippings of the kitchen and barn, and plowed 
twelve inches deep in the fall of 1853. In 
the following spring, it was again plowed 8 
inches deep, and harrowed until not a lump 
was to be seen on the surface. As soon in 
May as the earth was sufficiently warm, the 
seed was “ cast in” with a patent seed sow¬ 
er, drilling, dropping and covering the seed 
as fast as one could run a wheelbarrow over 
a smooth surface. The work of planting, 
cultivating and harvesting was principally 
done with a light hoe in our hands before 
breakfast and after tea. The result is as 
follows : 
3 bushels top onions, at 75 cents per bushel.$2 25 
10 “ ruta bagas, at 25 “ “ 2 50 
44 “ sugar beets, at 25 “ “ ..._11 00 
21 “ mangel wurzel, 20 “ “ 4 20 
931 “ carrots, at 42 “ “ 39 21 
6 “ blood beets, at 54 “ “ 2 04 
187 heads cabbage, at 4 *• each. 7 48 
22 acorn winter squashes, 20 “ “ 4 40 
74 black pumpkins, at 4 “ “ 2 96 
2 bushels ears sweet corn for seed, at$l per bush. 2 00 
1 bushel ears pop com, at 50 cents per bushel. 0 50 
75 melons at 10 cents each. 7 50 
3 bushels cucumbers, $1 00 per bushel. 3 00 
2 “ currants, at 2 00 “ 2 00 
1 “ gooseberries, 2 00 “ . 1 00 
Total.$94 04 
With beans, pie-plant, early potatoes, peas, 
asparagus, &c., for the supply of one’s fam¬ 
ily, to say nothing of the stocks, cabbage- 
leaves, turnip and carrot tops, to make the 
cows laugh, give milk and grow fat. He 
that will not cultivate a good kitchen gar¬ 
den, “ neither shall he eat ” good sauce nor 
fine fruits. 
GREAT YIELD OF CUCUMBERS. 
Mr. Daniel Morse, of Lockport, N. Y\, 
writes to the Southern Farmer as follows : 
For the benefit of your readers, I give you 
the production of eight hills of cucumbers, 
planted in my garden last spring. The man¬ 
ner of planting was taken from one of the 
agricultural journals. 
Having fully prepared a good garden soil 
by repeated spadings, I placed barrels at a 
distance each way of eight feet, and about 
six inches in the ground. The barrels were 
then filled with barnyard manure, and seeds 
previously soaked for 24 hours and planted 
around, and about four inches from the bar¬ 
rels. After the plants made their appear¬ 
ance, and when there had been no rain dur 
ing the day,'two pails of water were put on 
the manure in each barrel every night, which 
found its way through holes bored in the 
lower head. About four plants were left to 
each of the eight barrels. The end of each 
vine was pinched off just before fruiting. 
Now for the result and number of each pick¬ 
ing. 
1st gathering.... 
.70 
11th gathering.... 
.247 
2d “ . 
.122 
12 th 
<< 
.387 
3d “ . 
.131 
13th 
it 
.254 
4th “ . 
.160 
14th 
a 
.4 7 
5th “ . 
.145 
15th 
a 
.258 
6th “ . 
.172 
16th 
.366 
7th “ . 
.179 
17th 
<< 
.305 
8th “ . 
18th 
« 
.260 
9th “ . 
19th 
<< 
.214 
10th “ . 
20th 
u 
Total. 
THE HOUSE WREN. 
A correspondent of the Prairie Farmer, in 
giving an interesting description of the habits 
of this bird, relates the following : 
Several years since, a pair of wrensnested 
in the portico of a neighboring house ; and 
much interest being excited in them, from 
their confidence, they were closely observed. 
All went on happily till the female com¬ 
menced sitting, when this arch enemy of 
wrens, a cat, pulied down the nest and killed 
her. The male immediately commenced re¬ 
building the nest, stopping occasionally to 
utter a mournful call for his lost mate. Af¬ 
ter about a week had elapsed, having finished 
the nest, all but the lining of feathers, he 
ceased his sorrowful note, and sitting on a 
tree close by, continued for several days to 
pour forth his loudest song, when, though he 
had not once left the neighborhood he was 
joined by a female. The new mate spent a 
day or two in examining the premises, and 
being apparently satisfied, she finished the 
nest by lining it with feathers, and as it was 
now protected by a wire grating, the pair 
raised their young in safety. 
But last summer, I saw enacted a more cu¬ 
rious scene, in bird life. In the same poiti- 
co a pair of wrens had their nest, and in the 
wood shed, at the back of the house, another 
couple had taken up their quarters. After 
those in the portico had finished their nest, 
and several eggs had been laid, the male was 
killed. After some days, chirping anxiously, 
the disconsolate little widow went away, but 
in four or five days she returned, threw the 
eggs and lining out of the nest, and com¬ 
menced twittering at a great rate ; and short¬ 
ly aftersvards she was joined by a male bird, 
when she re-lined the nest, and again com¬ 
menced laying. It was now discovered, to 
our surprise, that the widowed wren’s new 
husband was no other than the male of the 
pair whose nest was in the wood shed ; the 
female of which was at this time sitting. He 
did not, however, entirely desert his first 
mate ; and when her young were hatched, 
helped take care of them, till the other brood 
made its appearance, to which he then car¬ 
ried all the food he collected. Still, he would 
occasionally be seen to fly from one nest to 
the other, but the deserted female very prop¬ 
erly paid no attention to him, and, now, 
never welcomed him with the usual loving 
twitter. 
There are other wrens in this country, 
with the same lively manner, and some of 
which have finer songs, or more beautiful 
plumage; but all lack the preeminently so¬ 
cial qualities that render our homely little 
favorite so agreeable. R. W. Kennicott. 
Cochineal. —The Florida News says that 
the cochineal is said to be a native of that 
State. This insect hovers about several va¬ 
rieties of the cactus, but prefers that known 
as the prickly pear, where it weaves its web 
and deposits its eggs. In Guatamala it is 
cultivated to support the insect, being plant¬ 
ed in rows on rich lands and kept free from 
weeds. When twenty months old it is said 
to be fit to receive the insect. The seed in¬ 
sect is small, and is preserved in boxes, 25 
pounds being sufficient for 1,000 plants. The 
manner of placing them on the plants is, to 
put a small quantity on a piece of gauze and 
attach it to a thorn ; from this they distrib¬ 
ute themselves over the plant, and when 
come to maturity, which is in about two 
months, are scraped off gently, and exposed 
to the sun on a polished piece of metal for 
some twenty days, and then carefully packed 
in mats. 
