378 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
life, she should ever come down to common 
“ Ingrain.” 
The last autumn 1 had just spread out an 
old Dutch carpet, which had been considera¬ 
bly torn in shaking, and was preparing to put 
it down in our dining-room, when my daugh¬ 
ter, a girl of fifteen, came in. 
“ Why, mother !” she exclaimed, “ you 
don’t think of putting down that rag !” • 
“ Yes, I do,” I replied, “ and I think of 
having you help me mend it.” 
She brought her thimble and seated her¬ 
self to the work, but with small hopes of 
seeing anything decent as the result. I cut 
out and put in pieces, enjoining it upon her 
to make every plaid match exactly. She 
made mistakes, which she thought were not 
worth the trouble of rectifying in such an 
old thing, but I insisted that it should all be 
done as well as possible. After a time, she 
became as much interested as I had ever 
seen her in her prettiest worsted work. 
When the carpet was done we put it down 
over straw matting, and she was as particu¬ 
lar as myself to have it straight and smooth, 
with every turn and corner exactly fitted. 
When she heard 'a^member of the family 
say, 
“ How well your carpet looks. I should 
think it was a new one ;” she felt fully re¬ 
warded for her labor. 
There is a prospect that our old carpet 
will last, not only this, but another winter. 
Then we trust the times will be better. 
___M. H. 
Fur the American Agriculturist. 
UTILITY OF THE ROOK 
Although at certain seasons of the year 
rooks (crows) do considerable mischief, yet 
they usually make ample compensation in 
the end, by destroying the grubs of the cock- 
chaffer and other underground-feeding in¬ 
sects, which, if left to themselves, would 
entirely destroy the crop which the rooks 
only partially injure. 
On some very large farms in Devonshire, 
England, the proprietors determined several 
years ago to try the experiment of offering 
a reward for the heads of rooks; but the 
result proved destructive to the farms for 
three successive years ; for nearly the whole 
of the crops failed, and they have since been 
forced to import rooks and other birds with 
which to restock their farms. A similar ex¬ 
periment was made a few years later, in one 
of the northern counties, particularly in re¬ 
ference to rooks; but with no better success, 
as the farmers were obliged to reinstate the 
rooks for the preservation of their crops. 
WHISTLER AT THE PLOW. 
How to Treat your Boots and Shoes 
when Partially Burned. —Somebody says : 
On one of the cold days, I pulled off my boots 
and set them close to a stove which was 
very hot. The room was filled with a smell 
as of something burning. Turning round, I 
.saw my boots smoking at a great rate. 1 
seized them and immediately besmeared 
them with soft soap, much of which, owing 
to their highly heated condition, quickly dis¬ 
appeared in the leather. When the boots 
became cold the leather was soft and pliable ; 
and now, after several days of subsequent 
wear, they exhibit no marks of having been 
burned. The foregoing seems to be worthy 
of attention.— Maine Farmer. 
“A little humor now and then, 
Is relished by the best of men.” 
ONE GENTLE THOUGHT. 
The Louisville Journal says: We defy any tasteful 
lover of poetry to read the following lines without ex¬ 
claiming, “how beautiful!” 
My soul thy sacred image keeps; 
My midnight dreams are all of thee ; 
For Nature then in silence sleeps, 
And silence broods o'er land and sea , 
Oh, in that still, mysterious hour, 
How oft from waking dreams I start, 
To find thee but a fancy flower, 
Thou cherished idol of my heart, 
Thou hast each thought and dream of mine— 
Have I in turn one thought of thine ? 
Forever thine myjdrcams will be, 
Whate’er may be my fortunes here ; 
I ask not love—I claim from thee 
Only one boon, a gentle tear; 
May e’er blest visions from above 
Play brightly round thy happy heart. 
And may the beams of peace and love 
Ne’er from thy glowing soul depart. 
Farewell 1 my dreams are still with thee, 
Hast thou one tender thought of me ? 
My joys like summer birds may fly, 
My hopes like summer blooms depart, 
But there’s one flower that can not die— 
The holy memory in my heart; 
No dews that flower’s cup may fill, 
No sunlight to its leaves be given, 
But it will live and flourish still, 
As deathless as a thing in heaven. 
My soul greets thine, unmasked, unsought, 
Hast thou for me one gentle thought 1 
Farewell! farewell my far-oflf friend ! 
Between us broad, blue rivers flow, 
And forests wave and plains extend, 
And mountains in the sunlight glow; 
The wind that breathes upon thy brow 
Is not the wind that breathes on mine. 
The star-beams shining on thee now, 
Are not the beams that on me shin*, 
But memory’s spell is with us yet— 
Can’st thou the holy past forget 1 
The bitter tears that you and I 
May shed when’er by anguish bowed. 
Exhaled into the noontide sky, 
May meet and mingle in the cloud, 
And thus, my much loved friend, though we 
Far, far apart must live and move, 
Our souls, when God shall set them free, 
Can mingle in the world of love. 
This wert an ecstacy to me— 
Say—would it be a joy to thee 1 
For the American Agriculturist. 
Aunt Dorcas’s Reasons for not Buying a New Cloak. 
1. She thought her old cloak looked as 
well as it did last winter. 
2. It looked a great deal better than the 
meeting-house did. 
3. There was a prospect of an unusually 
hard winter for the poor. 
4. Her Railroad stock would make no div¬ 
idend at present. 
5. She could not get a cloak without us¬ 
ing all the money she had by her, or getting 
it on credit. 
6. She would not get a cloak on credit if 
she never had a new one. M. H. 
“ Mother sent me,” said a little girl to a 
neighbor, “ to ask you to come and take tea 
with her this evening.” “Did she say at 
what time, my dear I” “No, ma’am; she 
only said she would ask you and then the 
thing would be off her mind; that was all 
she said.” 
THPIT ON IT, CAPTAIN. 
A good story is told of a lisping officer in 
the U. S. Army, having been victimized by a 
a brother officer, (who was noted for his cool 
deliberation and strong nerve,) and his get¬ 
ting square with him in the following man¬ 
ner; the cool joker, a captain, was always 
quizzing, the lisping officer, a lieutenant, for 
his nervousness. 
“ Why,” said he one day in the presence 
of his company, “ nervousness is all non- 
sence! I tell you, lieutenant, no brave man 
will be nervous.” 
“ Well,” inquired the lisping friend, “ how 
would you do, thpose a thell with an inch 
futliee thould drop itthelf in a walled angle 
in which you had taken thelter from a com¬ 
pany of tharp thooters, and where it wath 
thertain that if you put out your nothe you’d 
get peppered V 
“ How,” said the captain, winking at the 
circle, “ why take it cool, and spit on the 
fusee.” 
The party broke up and all retired for the 
night except the patrol. The next morning 
a number of soldiers were assembled and 
talking in clusters, when along came the 
lisping lieutenant; lazily opening his eyes he 
remarked— 
“ 1 want to try an extbperiment thith mor¬ 
ning, and thee how extheedinly cool you 
can be.” 
Saying which he walked deliberately up to 
the fire burning on the hearth, and placing 
in its hottest center a powder canister, in¬ 
stantly retreated. There was but one mode 
of egress from the quarters and that was 
upon the parade ground. The astonished 
captain took one glance at the canister, com¬ 
prehended his situation, and in a moment 
dashed at the door, but it was fastened on the 
outside. 
“ Charley, let me out if you love me!” 
shouted the captain. 
“Thpiton the canithter'” shouted he in 
return. 
Not a moment was to be lost; he had at 
first snatched up a blanket to cover his egress, 
but now dropping it he raised the window, 
and out he bounded, sans culottes sans every¬ 
thing but a very short undergarment; and 
thus, with hair almost upon end, he dashed 
upon a full parade ground. The shout which 
hailed him brought out the whole barracks 
to see what was the matter, and the dignified 
captain pulled a tall sergeant in front of 
him to hide himself. 
“ Why didn’t you thpit on it V' inquired 
the lieutenant. 
“ Because there was no sharp-shooters in 
front to stop a retreat,” answered the cap¬ 
tain. 
“All I have got to thay, then, ith,” said 
the lieutenant, “ that you might thafely done 
it, for I thware there wathn’t a single grain 
of powder in it!” 
The captain has never spoken against 
nervousness since. 
The Toothless Patient.— Our friend P-— 
has met with many losses in his time, and 
finally lost every tooth in his head. This, 
however, was more easily remedied than 
some of his other losses ; for he employed a 
dentist, who filled the vacancy, and set his 
jaws going again. 
Last season, P-was attacked with the 
cholera, and his friends and the physician 
gave him up as a lost case. As he lay there, 
apparently upon his deathbed, the doctor 
asked him if the medicines he had taken had 
in any manner affected his teeth. 
“ I don’t know,” faintly whispered P—— ; 
“but you can see—they are in the top draw¬ 
er of the bureau. Mrs. P-will hand them 
to you.” 
The doctor looked upon the double row of 
