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AGRICULTURE IS THE MOST HEALTHFUL, THE MOST USEFUL, AND THE MOST NOBLE EMPLOYMENT Op MAN— WASHINGTON. 
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EDITOR AND PROPRIETOR. > lilxbl av§^§*Ja© \ SINGLE NUMBERS 10 CENTS. 
VOL. xvr.-No. 9 .] NEW-YORK, SEPTEMBER, 1857. [new series-No. m 
BSiPlSusiiiess Office at No. 191 Water-st. 
gf°For Contents, Terms, &c. see paye 21G. 
igiPNotesto Correspondents, pages 211-2. 
ly'For Business Notices, see page 212. 
fSlPFor Advertisements, seepages 214-5. 
WORK FOR THE MONTH. 
“ Crowned with the sickle and the wheaten sheaf, 
While Autumn, nodding o’er the yellow plain, 
Comes jovial on ; the Doric reed once more, 
Well p'eased, I tune. What e’er the wintry frost 
Nitrous prepared, the various blossomed Spring 
Put in white promise forth ; and Summer suns 
Concocted strong, rush boundless now to view, 
Full, perfect all, and swell my glorious theme.” 
Thompson, it seems, understood that the 
snow contained ammonia, and had a happy 
influence upon vegetation. The frosts of 
Winter induce chemical changes in the soil, 
and store it with plant-food for the coming 
harvest. Even in the days of the old He¬ 
brew prophets, the same fact is recognized, 
though the philosophy is not hinted at. 
“ For as the rain cometh down, and the 
snow from heaven, and returneth not thith¬ 
er, but watereth the earth, and maketh it 
bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to 
the sower and bread to the eater, so shall 
My Word be.” 
The poet, too, recognizes the connection 
between seed time and harvest, and shadows 
forth man’s moral responsibilities in his pic¬ 
tures of the rural year. No department of 
human toil is so well calculated to impress 
upon us moral lessons, and we wonder not 
that the poet and the moralist, whether in¬ 
spired or not, have drawn their finest illus¬ 
trations from the fields of husbandry. The 
Autumn shows the farmer, as nothing else 
can, the connection between the past and 
the present, and, by inference, the connec¬ 
tion between the present and the future. 
He sees in his fields, in September, the foot¬ 
prints of his own faithfulness or carelessness 
in the months of Spring. If he wrought 
with the snows and frosts of Winter, giving 
them material in which to store away their 
nitrous qualities. If his muck heaps were 
numerous and well plowed in in May, his 
corn-fields are a glorious sight now that the 
September sun begins to ripen the golden 
ears. If, on the contrary, he preferred ease 
to toil, and his manure heaps were scanty, 
there is a like scantiness in the harvest. 
Even the most prompt and diligent hus¬ 
bandman is reminded at this season of his 
pastdelinquences. The great truth “Whatso¬ 
ever a man soweth that shall he also reap,” 
is everywhere written upon his fields. A 
dozen years ago he suffered wild mustard 
to go to seed in his corn because he was 
too much in haste to use the hoe the 
fourth time. He thought little of it at the 
time. The seeds were scattered, and now, 
after twelve years, they show themselves 
among his potatoes and turnips. It has 
been a fight to keep these weeds down for 
weeks past, and all owing to an error years 
ago. His past indiscretions in husbandry 
track him like his own shadow. A few years 
since he sowed hay seed, purchased at an 
agricultural store in the city. The year fol¬ 
lowing he noticed an occasional Canada 
thistle, but did not think much of the stran¬ 
gers. He thinks much of them now, as 
they have spread over his pastures, lined 
the highways, and invaded his meadows. 
These whole generations of evil doers might 
have been nipped in the bud in a day’s time. 
It will take years of patience and industry, 
now, to eradicate them. 
He was pressed with business in July, 
and did not sow the piece of land he had in¬ 
tended for ruta bagas. It lies waste for want 
of a day’s labor at the right time. His corn 
is pretty good, but as he turns down the 
husks from the ends of the ripening ears, he 
finds many are bare of kernels. He sees 
now that Nature had preferred to do much 
better by him than he has done by himself. 
A little more manure would have filled out 
the cobs to the end, without any more labor 
or sunshine. He regrets now that lie had 
not purchased, a few more bags of guano, or 
added a little more to his top-dressing of 
ashes. 
As he tops up his stacks for Winter, he 
finds some of his hay in bad condition, mus¬ 
ty, and damp. He meant to have purchased 
hay caps, but neglected it until the haying 
season was upon him, and then he was too 
busy to attend to it. He finds his flock of 
lambs less numerous than usual. He re¬ 
members in that decimated flock that he 
was too careless of the ewes in yearning 
time. He should not have been away from 
home at a time when it is so important for 
the master’s eye to be upon his servants. 
The poultry yard, too, reminds him of the 
drenching rains of May and June, when so 
many of his chickens perished from want of 
care. 
Few farmers are so perfect in their art 
that they will not find these painful remem¬ 
brancers of former neglect as they look 
over their premises. Here and there they 
can see errors in their practice. Happy will 
it be for them if they act at once upon the 
suggestions which these shortcomings 
mal e. September brings with it leisure to 
review the Summer’s work, and to tieasure 
up its teachings. 
DITCHING. 
Among the last spots mowed were the 
swales and swamps of the farm, yielding, 
perhaps, a ton of poor grass to the acre. 
All the roots of the grasses are drowned out, 
and have but little chance to grow except in 
the hot dry months. You have often thought 
of draining these low spots, but the right 
time has never seemed to come. Had they 
been ditched years ago, you would have cut, 
this season, two tons of good Herdsgrass to 
the acre, where you have only cut one of 
poor quality, fit only for bedding. Ditching 
must be done, if you would get the interest 
of the money you have invested in these 
swamps. Do not wait till your present 
stock of muck is exhausted, but ditch for the 
sake of letting out the water. A farmer 
should be content to kill one bird with one 
stone,if he has not the opportunity to kill two. 
Now do not take it for granted that aditcli 
in one place is just as good as in 
another. It is not. In any swamp or 
marsh of three or four acres, there should 
be a regular system of drains, so that every 
point in the swamp shall have a fair oppor¬ 
tunity to discharge its superabundant wa¬ 
ter. There should be a main ditch, or ar¬ 
tery, into which the side ditches should 
empty, at about equal distances, and the 
ditches should be made of sufficient capacity 
to carry off the water in the heaviest Spring 
rains. As a rule, the edge of the swamp 
should be surrounded by a ditch, to cut off 
all springs from the neighboring upland. In 
this respect, many farmers fail in their 
drainage. The springs are not cut off. 
If you have fall enough, it is desirable to 
drain a swamp four feet deep. But if you 
have but eighteen inches, it is much better 
to drain than to cut swamp grass all your 
days. With eighteen inches you may grow 
the best of herdsgrass, and in large quanti¬ 
ties. In this case the drains will need to be 
much nearer together than where you can 
draw off the v> ater four feet below the sur¬ 
face. 
GRAVEL hills. 
It not unfrequently happens that bar¬ 
ren knolls or sandy plains are close by a 
muck swamp. Where this is the case, you 
may kill two birds with one stone. The 
gravelly sand wants muck, and the swamp 
wants gravel just as much. An inch or two 
of sand or gravel upon the swamp will do 
more for it than the same quantity of ma¬ 
nure. It is quite practicable to sow grass 
