AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
327 
THE UNHAPPY REPLY. 
“I do not think it a selfish act if I occupy 
this whole seat myself, as I am to travel all 
this long day !” said I to a lady nearest to 
me, one sultry morning, as I took the out-of- 
the-way end seat, in the cars at Buffalo for 
Albany. 
“Certainly not,” was the reply,as Iput my 
shawl,books, papers, fan, boquet, &c., in the 
one end, and nestled myself down in the oth¬ 
er. I soon wearied of„ conversation and 
reading, and had sunk into a fitful slumber, 
when a gentle tap on my shoulder, and a low 
“please Miss,” made me wake with a sudden 
start. 
The car was filled to overflowing, and a 
newly arrived party had entered, and a pale 
little woman with fretful baby in her arms, 
stood asking permission to sit beside me. 
With more of pity than of pleasure, I shared 
my seat with her, yet I spoke few words, 
and sulkily forebore taking the restless lit¬ 
tle creature, to ease her poor, wearied arms ; 
but merely smoothed its yellow hair, and 
patted its pale, baby cheeks, and said Mary 
was a good and sweet name. 
For my own comfort, I had opened the 
window that I might more distinctly catch 
those picturesque views, that flitted by so 
quickly that they seemed glowing pictures, 
without one imperfection to mar, when my 
attention was drawn to my companion who 
was incessantly coughing. 
“ I wish you would let down that window.” 
said she, “ the coal smoke makes my cough 
so muclj worse.” 
I am ashamed to confess it now, but I felt 
the angry blood burn in my cheek, and a 
flashing of the eyes, as I replied, “ I am 
quite sick, and wearied, and hungry, and 
thirsty, and crowded, and here you come as 
an intruder, and keep me from the mite of 
cool, fresh air, that I am trying to get Do 
you think you are doing as you would be 
done by?” said I, tartly, and without wait¬ 
ing for a reply, I rose, and was letting down 
the window with an angry crash, as a 
naughty chile would slam a door shut, when 
she laid her poor wasted little hand, on my 
arm, and said, “ Oh, don't do it, then," and 
burst into tears, and leaned her head down 
on her baby, and cried bitterly. The wo¬ 
man in my heart was touched, but putting 
on the injured air of a martyr, I compressed 
my lips, and took up a paper pretending to 
read. Pretty soon my eyes grew dimmed. 
I could not see without crushing the tears 
often, and I resolved to ask her pardon for 
my unkindness; but minute after minute 
glided away, and we soon reached her place 
of destination, and she rose to leave. I rose, 
too, and the words were on my lips, when a 
gentleman came to assist her out. 
She turned her gentle and tearful eyes up¬ 
on me, with a sad expression, and bowed so 
sweetly, that my hand was almost upraised 
to appeal for the forgiveness, the words were 
just dropping from my lips, but she was 
gone, it was too late, and I, a woman, with 
a woman’s heart, was left with that stinging 
little barb sticking in it, and the sweet words 
and wasted little hand, that alone could re¬ 
move it, were gone from me forever. I 
sank back in my seat and wept bitterly. 
The gentleman returned from assisting 
her, and as the car was full he took her va¬ 
cant seat. I inquired who the lady was, 
and he replied, “ Her home is in Wisconsin, 
and she has returned to the home of her 
chidhood to die. The whole family of 
brothers and sisters died of consumption, 
and she, the last one left, is going too.” 
Oh! I turned away, sick at heart, and 
tried to shut out from remembrance that 
pallid, appealing face, as I resolved, and re¬ 
resolved, never again in this poor life of 
mine, to speak an unkind v/ovd ,~~Ohio Fam< 
ptfrfmtltol DeprftiMti 
For the American Agriculturist. 
HINTS FOR THE MONTH OF AUGUST. 
Calceolarias should now be sown, in pans 
half filled with drainage, and then filled up 
with equal parts of light loam, peat, and 
leaf mold, finely sifted. A good sprinkling 
of silver sand, which should also be sifted, 
may be added. Water the pans, and allow 
them sufficient time to drain. Sow the seed 
thinly, and cover with a little finely-sifted 
soil. Place the pans in a shady place, in 
a frame close to the glass, if convenient, 
keeping them moist and the frame closed 
till the plants make their appearance. 
Cinerarias —Increase named kinds by cut¬ 
tings in light sandy soil. Seedlings may be 
potted off and kept mi a shady place. Dust 
them over with dry sulphur on the appear¬ 
ance of mildew. 
Dahlias. —Tie out the shoots to give them 
all the air possible, thinning them to produce 
fine flowers. This must be done with cau¬ 
tion, according to the variety, or many kinds 
will be made coarse and open in the petal. 
White flowers must be shaded by pots, and 
dark ones by tins open at the bottom. Dress 
the flowers as they expand. 
Pinks. —Cuttings may still be put in of 
choice or scarce kinds. 
Pelargoniums. —All plants broken, enough 
may "be shook out of the old soil, the roots 
cut back and repotted in a pot a size smaller, 
and placed in a frame near the glass. Keep 
them close, and shaded, for the first week or 
two ; after which abundance of air may be 
admitted. As they advance in growth, top 
and tie out the shoots close to the edge of 
the pot. 
Holyhocks. —Cuttings may now be taken. 
One bud or eye is sufficient. Each one 
should be placed in a small pot filled with 
sandy soil, and placed in a cold frame close 
to the glass, shaded from the sun. Great 
care must be exercised in watering or many 
will die from dampness. 
Pansies. —Cuttings should now be taken 
from the best pansies, and as soon as struck 
planted in beds. Under ordinary circum¬ 
stances the cuttings will be ready to trans¬ 
plant in ten days from the time of putting 
in. Seed may also be sown. 
W. SuMMERSBEY. 
Fruit— Will it Pay ? —The following are 
the prices, per pound, for fruit in San Fran¬ 
cisco markets : 
Cherries, $4; strawberries, $2 to $2 50 ; 
raspberries, $3 to $3 50; currants, $2 50 to 
$3; apricots, $1 to $1 50; gooeseberries, 81 
to $1 50; blackberries, plenty, 50a75c.; pears, 
new crop, 75c.a$l 50; apples, new crop, $2 
a$2 50; do., old crop, $la$l 50. 
j Foreign Fruits—Per dozen —Oranges, $la 
$2; lemons, $4a$6; limes, scarce, $3; ban¬ 
anas, $1 50a$2. 
In this connection the California Farmer 
very appropriately remarks : 
“ When our public journals bear constant 
reports of distress in mercantile and com¬ 
mercial affairs ; when x-eports of failures and 
ruin press upon these interests—if they are 
so disastrous—where does the money come 
from to pay such prices 1 There is money. 
Would not some of our young men and mer¬ 
chants who are now doing nothing, earning 
nothing, and finding themselves, do better to 
find a piece of land and cultivate fruit 1 They 
will secure to themselves, at least, health, 
and prevent the blues. Besides they can do 
well. There is a large field open, and now 
is the time.” 
PROFITS OF FRUIT. 
Examples almost without number may be 
given, where single trees have yielded from 
five to ten dollars a year in fruit, and many 
instances in which twenty or thirty dollars 
have been obtained. If one tree of the 
Rhode-Island Greening will afford forty 
bushels of fruit, at a quarter of a dollar per 
bushel, which has often occurred, forty such 
trees on an acre would yield a crop worth 
four hundred dollars. But taking one quar¬ 
ter of this amount as a low average for all 
seasons, and with imperfect cultivation, one 
hundi-ed dollars would still be equal to the 
interest on fifteen hundred per acre. Now, 
this estimate is based upon the price of good 
winter apples for the past thirty years, in one 
of our most productive districts ; let a simi¬ 
lar calculation be made with fruits rarer and 
of a moi’e delicate chai-acter. Apricots, and 
the finer varieties of the plum, are often sold 
for three to six dollars per bushel; the best 
early peaches from one to three dollars ; 
and pears, from hardy and productive trees, 
two to five bushels per tree, with good man¬ 
agement, is a frequent crop ; and on large 
pear trees five times this quantity. An ac¬ 
quaintance received eight dollars for a crop 
grown on two fine young cherry trees, and 
twenty-four dollars from four young peach 
trees, of only six years’ growth, from the 
bud. In Western New-York, single trees of 
the Doyenne or Virgalia pear have often af¬ 
forded a return of twenty dollars or more, 
after being sent hundreds of miles to market. 
An acre of such trees, well managed, would 
far exceed in profit a five hundred acre 
farm. 
But the anxious inquiry is suggested, 
“ Will not our market be surfeited with 
fruit' 1 ” This will depend on the judgment 
and discretion of cultivators. With the ex¬ 
ception of the peaches of Philadephia and 
the strawberries of Cincinnati, a great defi¬ 
ciency is still felt in all our large cities. Of 
these two fruits, large plantations are brought 
rapidly into full bearing. The fruit, when 
ripe, quickly perishes, and can not be kept a 
week; yet thousands of acres in peach 
trees, bending under their heavy crops, arc 
needed for the consumption of the one city, 
and broad, fifty acre fields, redden with 
enormous products, send many hundred 
bushels of strawberries daily into the other. 
If, instead of keeping but three days, sorts 
were now added three months, many times 
the amount would be needed. But the mar¬ 
ket would not be confined to large cities. 
Railroads and steamboats would open new 
channels of distribution throughout the coun¬ 
try, for increased supplies. Nor would the 
business stop here. Large portions of the 
eastern continent would gladly become pur¬ 
chasers, as soon as sufficient quantities 
should create facilities for a reasonable sup¬ 
ply. Our best apples are eagerly bought in 
London and Liverpool, where nine dollars 
per barrel is not an unusual price for the 
best Newton Pippins. And by being packed 
in ice, Doyenne pears, gathered early in au¬ 
tumn, have been safely sent to Jamaica, and 
strawberries for Barbadoes. The Baldwin 
apple has been furnished in good condition 
in the East Indies, two months after it is en¬ 
tirely gone in Boston .—Saturday Evening 
Mail 
