AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
91 
“A little humor now and then, 
Is relished by the best of men.” 
OCTOBER. 
Gorgeous are thy woods, October, 
Clad in glowing mantles sere— 
Brightest tints of beauty blending, 
Like the west, when day’s descending— 
Thou ’rt the sunset of the year. 
Fading flowers are thine, October ! 
Droopeth sad the sweet bluebell, 
Gone the blossoms April cherish’d— 
Violet, lily, rose—all perish’d, 
Fragrance fled from field and dell. 
Songless are thy woods, October, 
Save when red-breast’s mournful lay 
Through the calm gray morn is swelling— 
To the list’ning echoes telling 
Tales of darkness and decay. 
Saddest sounds are thine, October ; 
Music of the falling leaf 
O’er the pensive spirit stealing, 
To its thrilling depths revealing— 
“ Thus all gladness sinks in grief.” 
I do love thee, drear October, 
More than budding, blooming Spring ; 
Here is hope, delusive smiling, 
Trustful hearts to grief beguiling— 
Memory loves thy dusky wing. 
Joyous hearts may love the Summer, 
Bright with sunshine, song, and flower; 
Life hath been a wintry river, 
On whose ripples gladness never 
Gleameth brightly since that hour. 
’Twas in thee, thou sad October, 
Death laid low my bosom’s flower; 
But the heart whose hopes are blighted, 
In the gloom of woe benighted, 
Better loves thy kindred bower. 
“Hearts would fain be with their treasure ”— 
Mind is slumb’ring in the clay, 
Wand’ring here, alone, uncheerv ; 
Deem it strange the heart should weary 
For its own October day 1 
EARTH AND AIR 
BY BARRY CORNWALL. 
How beautiful, how wonderful 
Thou art, sweet Air ! 
And yet, albeit thine odors lie 
On every gust that mocks the eye, 
We pass thy gentle blessings by 
Without a care! 
How beautiful, how wonderful 
Thou art, sweet Earth ! 
Thy seasons changing with the sun— 
Thy beauty out of darkness won ! 
And yet, whose tongue (when all is done) 
Will tell thy worth 1 
The poet!—He alone doth still 
Uphold all worth! 
Then love the poet!—love his themes, 
His thoughts, half hid in golden dreams, 
Which make thrice fair the songs and 
Of Air and Earth. [streams, 
Profusion of Life in the Ocean. —Not a 
shell or a stone is brought up. but is thronged 
with living beings. Every branch of weed 
gives shelter to multitudes of creatures— 
some temporary lodgers, some permanent 
residents. Life is a parasitie upon life. The 
surpula builds its stony case on the abode of 
the shell-fish, and the delicate lace-work of 
the moss coral overspreads the surpula. 
Over the stem of the sea-weed creeps the 
graceful plumes of the zoophyte spring. 
These, again, are thickly invested by the 
pretty cells of many smaller species; and 
these, in turn, minute as they are, often bear 
n profusion the curious forms of micro scop- 
ic animalcules. Let us take a stone from the 
heap that is lying in our boat. It is a per¬ 
fect museum in itself. It is richly colored in 
parts by the nullipore —one of the lowest 
forms of vegetable life, which does for the 
scenery of the ocean what the moss and 
lichen do for the scenery of the upper world. 
Here is a circular cluster of cells, “ looking 
like beautiful lace-work carved in ivory 
here, a little saucer of the purest whiteness, 
containing within it a number of stony tubes, 
the habitation of the whole company of pol- 
yples. A sponge overgrows one portion of 
the stone, itself the home of many a living 
thing ; a sea anemone is present, and near it 
a small star fish. There are worms, too, in 
plenty, and more of life and beauty beside 
than we have place to describe. It is pleas¬ 
ant to think of the happy existence which a 
single stone may support. The forms to 
which we have chiefly referred are visible to 
the unassisted eye ; but, as Humboldt re¬ 
marks, “the application of the microscope 
increases is the most striking manner our 
impression of the rich luxuriance of animal 
life in the ocean, and reveals to the aston¬ 
ished senses the consciousness of the uni¬ 
versality of being.”— Journal. 
A Good Speech. —Daniel Webster, a short 
time previous to his last public reception in 
Boston, was traveling from New-York to 
this city, by the overland route. When the 
cars reached Springfield, Mr. Waite, the 
well-known excellent conductor, stepped into 
the forward car, and, as usual, announced— 
“ Springfield station—twenty minutes al¬ 
lowed passengers to dine !” Mr. Webster, 
who was sitting by him, arose, and pleasant¬ 
ly tapping him on the shoulder, remarked : 
“ Young man, that is one of the most inter¬ 
esting speeches I ever heard in my life.” 
“ Yes, sir,” calmly replied the conductor, 
“ all speeches are good in which the speaker 
and the hearer heartly sympathize.” “Very 
true,” said Mr. Webster, “ and I have al¬ 
ways noticed, that those speeches are al¬ 
ways considered best which are finished in 
good season for dinner.”— Times. 
A Woojian of Good Sense. —You see this 
lady turning a cold eye to the assurances of 
shopmen, and the recommendations of milli¬ 
ners. She cares not how original a pattern 
may be, if it be ugly, or how recent a shape, 
if it be awkward. Whatever law fashion 
dictates, she follows a law of her own, and is 
never behind it. She wears very beautiful 
things, which people generally supposed to 
be fetched from Paris, or at least made by a 
French milliner, but which as often are 
bought at the nearest town, and made up 
by her own maid. Not that her costume 
is either rich or new—on the contrary, she 
wears many a cheap dress, but it is always 
good; and she deals in no gaudy confusion 
of colors. 
The National Baby Show, at Springfield, 
was a failure. Only one hundred and twen¬ 
ty babies, out of a population of twenty-five 
millions, were on hand, or rather, in arms. 
Double that number could be turned out of 
a single Ward in this city at two minutes’ 
notice, and as fine, fat, healthy and rollicking 
imps as ever rolled over a carpet. 
[Dollar Newspaper. 
Married —On Wednesday, the 13th ultimo, 
by the Rev. T. A. Eaton, Mr. William Ins- 
lee, of New-Orleans, to Miss Theresa Birch, 
of this city. 
Strange ! what he hated most when young, 
He dearly loves in riper years; 
And Birch, which once his boy heart wrung, 
Now proves his solace, calms his fears. 
In Birch he finds his earthly bliss, 
Nor hesitates the rod to kiss. 
[Washington Star. 
ARTESIAN WELLS. 
The Earth's Secrets .—The St. Louis Dem¬ 
ocrat of a late date, has a very interesting 
account of the progress made by Mr. Belch¬ 
er, of that city, downward towards the 
center of the earth, in search of pure water 
for his extensive sugar refirery. His Arte¬ 
sian wells commenced six years ago, has 
now reached the depth of 2,200 feet, being, it 
is said, the deepest in the world—the one at 
Grenelie, near Paris, being sunk 1,961 feet, 
and another one in France reaching the depth 
of 1,150 feet. 
The drill has thus far passed through a 
constant succession of the most stubborn 
rocks, with the exception of a stratum of 
soft slate of 100 feet, and it is now on its 
way through yellow sandstone. A steam 
engine of twenty-five horse power is used to 
work the drills, the diameter of the bore be¬ 
ing five inches. The Democrat says : 
The kinds of drills used are various, some 
being adapted for pulverizing the rock, 
others for hooking up soft substances, and 
then there is an instrument called a rimmer, 
used for cutting the sides of the bore to make 
it round and smooth. Tubes are also used 
containing valves, which catch the loose 
particles of rock and carry them to the top 
of the well. The drilling rods are made of 
stout oak wood, are about two inches in 
diameter and thirty-two feet long, having 
iron screws and fastenings at the ends by 
which a continued rod may be formed of any 
length. 
The presence of one or more persons is 
constantly required for the purpose of turn¬ 
ing the drill around in the bore, as its ver¬ 
tical motion continues. At present, the oper- 
ators'are engaged in enlarging the cavity, at 
the point where the soft slate stone occurs, 
for the purpose of introducing a copper tube 
to prevent the continual caving in of the 
soft parcels, which are constantly sloughing 
from the sides. We were told that this fall¬ 
ing in of the blue slate stone had left a cavity 
as large as a good sized house. We believe 
it is the intention to introduce copper pipes 
from the top to the bottom of the well, as 
soon as it is finished, although the hard 
rocky sides would seem to make it unneces¬ 
sary. The object to be gained by this is, to 
shut out the various kinds of waters from the 
sides, so that the pure stream from the bot¬ 
tom may reach the top without any mixture. 
At the depth of 700 feet a vein of salt 
water was struck, and at 1,500 feet an im¬ 
mense vein of sulphur water burst forth, 
which has been running over since its dis¬ 
covery in a large stream from the mouth of 
the well. This water is the same as that of 
the Blue Lick Springs, in Kentucky, and 
possesses a purity and freshness of taste 
quite superior to that which reaches us in 
barrels and casks. It is carried off by a 
large sewer, leading to the river. It seems 
too wasteful, that such profuse quantities of 
this celebrated ivater should be permitted to 
flow away, but the refinery needs the clear, 
unadulterated element, and it must have it, 
and nothing else. Other medical waters 
have been discovered, we believe, but they 
have been of little consequence. 
Shrewd. —“ I sell peppermints on Sun¬ 
day,” remarked a good old lady who kept a 
candy shop, “ because they carries ’em to 
church and eats ’em, and keeps awake to 
hear the sermon ; but if you want pickled 
limes you must come week days. They’re 
secular commodities.” 
A sad effect ol the Maine law in Portland 
is, that the city is driven to hiring men to do 
the work formerly done by the inmates of 
the alms-house—so badly has the alms¬ 
house degenerated. Here is food for the 
thoughts of tax payers, 
