AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
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AGRICULTURE IS THE MOST HEALTHFUL, THE MOST USEFUL, AND THE MOST NOBLE EMPLOYMENT OF MAN,— WASHINGTON. 
ORANGE JUDD, A. M., 
EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. 
$1.00 PER ANNUM, IN ADVANCE. 
SINGLE NUMBERS 1 O CENTS. 
VOL. xv. —No. 13 .] NEW-YORK, OCTOBER, 185G. [NEW series-No. 117. 
Tlie Office of tlie American Agricul¬ 
turist is on tlie 2d floor at 191 Water-st. 
(near Fulton). 
dPAll Business and otlicr letters should 
be addressed to ORANGE JUDD, 
Wo. 191 Water-st., 
SewYork City. 
ES*” Personal Letters, or those for the Editor only should he 
marked Private. 
WORK TOR THE MONTH. 
“ What is there saddening in the Autumn leaves T 
Have they that “ green and yellow melancholy ” 
That the sweet poet spake of 1—Had we seen 
Our variegated woods, when first the frost 
Turns into beauty all October’s charms— 
When the dread fever quits us—when the storms 
Of the wild Equinox, with all its wet, 
Has left the land, as the deluge left it 
With a bright bow of many colors hung 
Upon the forrest tops—he had not lighted. 
The Moon stays longest for the hunter now, 
The trees cast down their fruitage, and the blithe 
And busy Squirrel hoards his winter store.” 
Brainerd. 
The poet was right in questioning the 
melancholy tendencies of Autumn. It is 
not Nature, hut we that are sad in these 
days of “ the sere and yellow leaf.” Nature 
is as hopeful and joyous in these last day’s 
of the season, yea even more so, than when 
in the hight of summer, she was too busy to 
do aught else than work. There is as 
much of life now in field and forest as when 
the buds were bursting, and the flowers 
unfolded their gorgeous petals. How glo¬ 
riously Nature winds up her summer work, 
making the “end of a thing better than the 
begining,” a scene of real triumph. No 
coronation pageant of the barbaric East, 
flashing with gold and diamonds can equal 
the splendors of our October woods. All 
the hues of the rainbow are there, mingling 
with colors more sober, and making a scene 
that can not be adequately described, or 
transferred to the canvass. And then to set 
off this glorious pageant with most brilliant 
effect we have a transparent atmosphere at 
this season, which brings distant objects 
near and allows the eye to behold distinctly 
the minute details in a broad landscape. 
Italian skies are not more beautiful than 
ours, when the Autumn storms have swept 
away the vapors. It is a grand sight, to see 
this brilliant close of the forest's Summer 
work. The foliage, as if flushed with tri¬ 
umph, dies. Every leaf has made provision 
for its successor, nay it was only the teem¬ 
ing life of a future year that pushed it aside. 
Many leaves will come forth from that 
sleeping bud which exfoliated the fallenleaf. 
Its fall was buoyant with hope. 
The cultivated fields too, are full of prom¬ 
ise. Beneath the sere husks of the maize 
lie the seed kernels in long golden rows, the 
germs of future harvests. Beneath the 
clods, the long dark tubers are full of eyes 
looking out wistfully to another season. 
Every flower in field and forest has left its 
store-house full of seeds on the spot where 
it died. It is only to the superficial observ¬ 
er, that Autumn is a period of melancholy. 
Look beneath its surface and it glows with 
the beauty of life. It holds a new year in 
its fading arms. 
No month is more enjoyable than this. 
The summer heats are over, and the man 
who has lived wisely and temperately, is 
now invigorated with the cool tracing at¬ 
mosphere of October. He relishes with 
keen appetite the luxuriant repasts which 
Nature has been maturing for his enjoyment 
all through the summer months. The fruits 
are now in their perfection, the spicy apple, 
the melting pear, the luscious grape, the 
juicy peach, spreading man's table with 
tempting variety. He has health and strength 
for the remaining labors of the season. 
THE INDIAN CORN HARVEST 
is mainly gathered in this month. A part of 
it stands with the stalks cut, its ears burst¬ 
ing the brown husks, and ripening in the 
sun. It is important that they should be 
well ripened, and dry, before they are crib¬ 
bed. A part of it has been cut up at the 
roots and put in shocks to dry. No harvest 
field looks so rich as this, and its ingather¬ 
ing in the olden time was a scene of mirth 
and festivity. We regret the decline of the 
good old fashioned husking party, that so 
happily combined pleasure and profit. 
“ Where the huge heap lies center’d in the hall, 
The lamp suspended from the cheerfull wall, 
Brown, corn-fed nymphs, and strong hard handed beaus, 
Alternate ranged, extend in circling rows 
Assume their seats, the solid mass attack ; 
The dry husks rustle, the com cobs crack; 
The song, the laugh, alternate notes resound. 
And the sweet cider trips in silence round.” 
This programme which we doubt not was 
faithful to the times of the author of Hasty 
Pudding, had become somewhat altered in 
the days of our youth. The corn heap wrns 
gathered in the open air upon the spot where 
the husks were to be stacked, generally in 
the field adjacent to the barn. In the full 
moon of October, all the neighbors and friends 
for miles around were mingled to the even¬ 
ing husking. The corn “ fed nymphs ” were 
not invited to the out-door party but pre¬ 
sided with grace, and dignity over the fes¬ 
tivities in the house, that were introduced by 
supper after the husking was over. Even 
with this arrangement, there was no diffi¬ 
culty in procuring attendants. The long 
heaps of com rapidly disappeared, and a 
*ingle favorable evening would nearly finish 
the whole husking of a farm. 
But alas! the times are sadly changed, 
and there is as little poetry about the gath¬ 
ering of this harvest as in picking stones or 
ditching. Even Farmer’s daughter's would 
faint at the rudeness of an invitation to an 
evening husking. Their delicate fingers 
would be blistered by contact with rough 
corn husks, and their sensibilities shocked 
at the idea of ladies extending the hospitali¬ 
ties of their mansion to the corn buskers 
The business has lost its charm in the eyes 
of the fair sex, and this we imagine has 
more to do with the reluctance of farmers’ 
sons to remain upon the old homestead, 
than most people imagine. The plow boy 
hears the question asked “Who wants to 
marry a farmer with his rough hands and 
dirty shirt ?” The question is echoed by his 
sisters, and he ponders it as he follows the 
plow. The furrows grow long and heavy, 
and the dulness of his team only equals the 
dullness of a farmers life, as he looks at it 
through the vista of single blessedness. Be¬ 
fore he is through with his teens his trunk 
is packed and he is off for the city, where 
softer hands are in demand and where farm¬ 
er’s sons are metamorphosed into “ nice 
young men,” fit to marry the fanner’s 
daughter’s of this generation. Woman has 
a great work to do in the reform of agricul¬ 
ture. Farm life can never assume its true 
place in society, without her influence and 
advocacy. 
THE APPLE HARVEST. 
The cultivation of this fruit is rapidly ex¬ 
tending, though the temperance reform 
makes progress and comparatively little ci¬ 
der is used as a beverage. The market is 
brisk in all the larger cities ; and the de¬ 
mand for foreign markets is likely to in¬ 
crease with the cultivation of the fruit. It, 
is some times gathered the last week in 
September, but much depends upon the 
weather. If frosts are severe, they should 
be picked immediately. If not let them 
hang. 
In gathering them the greatest care 
should be exercised, and the cultivator should 
superintend the whole work in person. 
Half the value of this crop is often lost 
through carelessness. They are hurriedly 
shaken from the tree, bqdly bruised, thrown 
into barrels without assortment, and thus car¬ 
ried to market. No man who knows th c 
value of good fruit will purchase such a lot 
at half price. They should be picked by 
hand, or by an instrument constructed for 
