1869.] 
263 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
B(DY® <k ©©ItTQTSfflKTSo 
Time Htope-tyimig' Ladder 'S'l-iclk. 
The frame, of which a front and an end view arc shown 
in tlie engraving, has something of the appearance of a 
ladder, and is strongly built, the cross-bars being fasten¬ 
ed by long screws. It is easy, by arranging beforehand, 
to find some simple person in the company present to ex¬ 
amine? the frame, apparently very thoroughly, and to pro¬ 
nounce ifc-=“ all right.” The exhibitor now introduces 
his assistant, and fastens him with ropes, strongly wound, 
to the bars. The wise man, called out from the audience, 
Mil.llllll'■lll■^*i^liiMl'^illili^llillilil^liiiliB 1 
FRONT VIEW. END VIEW. 
examines the work, and carefully seals the knots with 
tape and sealing-wax. A curtain is now dropped between 
the frame and the audience, the exhibitor being in front 
of it. Almost as rap inly as it can be related, over the 
top of the curtain is thrown the coat of the man just 
fastened to the bars—a signal to raise the screen. There 
stands the man, just before tied, in his shirt sleeves, and 
holding the ropes, without a broken seal in his hands ! 
The way it was done can readily be seen by the illustra¬ 
tion. The middle bar, A and B , instead of being firmly 
fastened, is only pinned by a smooth nail with a screw 
head. This can be readily pulled out by the fingers of 
the tied man. The bar will then fall, and the rope, with¬ 
out breaking its wax seals, slips off, permitting the im¬ 
prisoned man to remove it from his shoulders, to throw 
off his coat, and to stand in a few moments innocently 
before the audience, holding the rope in his hands. 
I-.ea.rn. Sometliin" TUoroi»g'5iIy. 
The trouble with the young people of our day is, that 
they skim over a great many tilings, but do not know 
anything positively. They catch at the sound of words, 
as did the lad, who, when asked if he had studied Ger¬ 
man, answered, “ I have not, but my cousin plays the 
German flute.” They study mineralogy, botany, and 
ornithology, but how little do they really know about the 
rocks, the flowers, and the birds ! For this reason they 
find but little pleasure in them. When a stranger comes 
to the place where we live, we feel very little interest in 
him, but after we are introduced to him, and become 
fully acquainted with him, and find him very agreeable, 
we wish to be in his society as often as possible. Pro¬ 
fessor Agassiz once placed a grasshopper upon his lec¬ 
ture tabic before a class of young men, and told them that 
this insect would be the subject of their conversation for 
the hour. The class smiled at this, wondering what new 
thing could be told of this familiar little skipping fel¬ 
low, jumping about their feet every summer. But they 
found the hour to be only too short, and wished for 
another, as the Professor opened before them all the 
curious and interesting facts about the grasshopper, 
which his careful observation had revealed to him. 
We may have an active business, employing us daily, 
and still find time, if we are in earnest about it, to be¬ 
come well acquainted with at least one of the branches 
of natural science. One of the most active physicians 
in the Connecticut Valley collected a cabinet of insects 
and birds that was valued at $10,000 when he died, and a 
college considered itself very fortunate in securing it, 
while the work of collecting it was the joy of his life. 
Another, in the same Valley, became the most thorough 
scholar in the fossil tracks made in the sandstone forma¬ 
tions of the vicinity. The writer well recollects the great 
pleasure exhibited by an eminent medical professor, who 
is also a very busy and brilliant writer, when shown a 
large elm tree; he whipped out his tape measure in a 
moment to learn its exact size. It proved to be a giant 
in circumference. All the facts about it were noted in 
his diary. He was acquainted with nearly every very 
large tree in his native State, and every thing of interest 
connected with them. It was delightful to hear him re¬ 
count the incidents which he had gathered about them. 
We have often met a charming old gentleman, who 
wore a plain and neat Quaker dress, and, until his la¬ 
mented death, was interested in the charitable institu¬ 
tions of the State in which he lived. He made a large 
fortune by economy and diligence. Wherever he went 
he carried with him a convenient little flower case, and 
whenever his quick eye fell upon a new blossom, or even 
an old one, if attractive, he gathered it as a great prize. 
He knew each flower by its own name, had learned all its 
habits, and seemed almost to hold conversation with it. 
What a pleasure to recognize every different bird by 
its form and note, to call them all by their appropriate 
names, and to know all their wonderful instincts shown 
in making their nests, gathering their food, and caring 
for their young! Choose one of these branches—the 
rocks,' the flowers, the trees, the insects and fishes, 
or the birds, and then from books, from conversation 
with those who have information, and, above all, from 
careful observation, learn all about them; and thus an 
inexhaustible source of enjoyment will be discovered. 
Interior Wiirtleiung-. 
BY MARY LOWE. 
I turned the Agriculturist for the first time over, leaf 
by leaf, looking first, as even grown-up children will, 
at all the pretty pictures. How alive its columns seemed, 
full of fruits and flowers, and all pleasant growing things 1 
I lingered a little over the pages designed for the 
household and the home, and thought of the contrast be¬ 
tween the homes of America, and those of other lands as 
I have seen them; most particularly of the contrast be¬ 
tween the homes of those who till the soil, and the homes 
of the farmers beyond the sea. Putting aside the temp¬ 
tation to talk about these contrasts, my eye passed on to 
the columns for boys and girls, more and more gratified 
to find that here is, indeed, a journal aiming too at the 
culture of human growing things. 
Then I fell wondering, how many of the child-readers 
of the Agi'icullurist have a little garden of their own, and 
are cultivators themselves. And that thought brought 
many more, about the great delight of thus making even 
a little spot of our brown earth to blossom as the rose, 
and about the unconscious culture of the child’s heart 
and mind, going on while the little hands are busy at the 
weeds. Then I remembered the multitude of children 
who never have the joy of seeing the buds swell and 
blossom; who get only grown-up flowers, and those not 
from green fields, but from hot-houses; whose rosebuds 
are either pricked to death with a wire through the heart, 
or imprisoned in rows of violets, so stiff as to destroy 
all beauty, and stifle all fragrance. And all this led to 
the fancy that every child in city or country has one field 
in which he alone can be the laborer ; where the good 
fruit shall testify to careful culture or the desolate land 
bear witness to unfaithfulness and neglect. 
In these gardens of the heart let us walk together for 
a moment. We shall find bud and blossom, but vile 
weeds and poisonous fruits may bo here also. You see, 
we may call each pure thought, each noble act, each gen¬ 
tle word, a flower; each real desire to be better or do 
better than in the present hour, a bud of promise. Have 
you never seen in earthly gardens plant and weed grow¬ 
ing side by side? and side by side the nourishing fruit 
and poisonous berry ? So grow in the heart-gardens the 
plants of good and the plants of evil. There are young 
natures in which the weeds have flourished so that the 
flowers arc sickly and weak, and hidden, and I have seen 
hearts \yhere many little blossoms of good had sprung 
up, and would have thriven, but for some one great 
fault, some tree of vice that cast over every thing near it 
a black shadow, shutting away the sunlight from the 
good and pure. Then, again, I have so often found 
faded flowers among the beautiful growths. 
Do you remember a time, boys, in the long ago, it may 
be, when the voice and smile of your mother were prec¬ 
ious things to you ? when you loved to do anything for 
her ? when thoughts of her kept back sinful words and 
acts ? And has there been a change ? If into your soul 
there has crept a thought that, by this time, you ought 
to be beyond her control,—then one of the purest flow¬ 
ers in the garden of your heart is a withered, faded thing. 
And unless the good angel of your childhood weeps un¬ 
til the dew of her tears revives this flower, I would give 
little for the greenness or freshness of any other blossom 
in your garden. ’Tis a fatal place for fading to begin. 
If the once hated untruth, or the oath you shuddered to 
hear, slips easily and naturally now from your lips, then, 
all along the path of these blighting sins the flowers of 
purity and truth lie faded. F,very burst of passion, every 
unkind word, or dishonorable act, has blighted some¬ 
thing beautiful in us, has crushed out something good. 
How discouraging all this would seem if the flowers 
might not revive again! But whenever we go to work 
cheerfully and earnestly, pulling out the weeds from this 
moral soil, and planting in their stead, the good seed ; 
tearing up by the roots the old stubborn tree of laziness ; 
sweeping out the dirt of profanity; throwing the rocks 
of self-will and pride high over the wall; trampling down 
the clinging, poisonous vine of selfishness, that twines 
chokingly about all good in us; when we water with 
tears of penitence, and use the spade of perseverance, 
and cultivate carefully the buds of prayer,—then the 
Great Gardener gives to our labor the dew of His bene¬ 
diction, the light of Ilis smile, and our gardens grow to 
be so lovely that we may even think of Him as walking 
there in the cool of the day, and not be troubled or afraid. 
New Piistzles to I>e Answered. 
No. 347.—“ The same old Coon.” Where is the joke ? 
No. 348. Conundnim. —A blind beggar had a brother; 
that brother died one day; the deceased had no brother; 
now, what relation were they ? 
No. 349. Conundrum.—A gentleman, looking at a por¬ 
trait of a young man said, “ Brothers and sisters have I 
none, yet that man’s father is my father’s son.” Explain. 
l€>(U) 
sVCO") 
No. 330.—Rebus for our musical readers. 
Answers to ProMems Jiud Puziales, 
Rebus No. 344, last month, reads, “A saying once 
spoken a coach and four horses cannot bring it back.” 
(Ace a in G one spoke n a coach and four horses can knot 
bee ring it back.) Answer to Conundrum 34G.—Because 
they are shadows (shad 
o’s). The following have 
sent correct answers: II. 
E. Nelson, Daisy Wilder, 
Emma E. Camir, George 
E. Iloxie, John G. Cow- 
den, Grace Gonrlay (2), 
Franklin W. Hall, T. Jo- 
ralemon (22), S. T. F. 
(343), W. T. Hornadays, 
Harry J. Meixcll, J. 
West Homer (2), Ollie 
Moore (2), Clias. II. Fitch 
(343), Adelbcrt D. New¬ 
ton, Fisher Dalrymple, 
Geo. Allen (2), J. H. 
Goodwin (343), J. M. B. 
Larrabee, Jennie Bailey 
(2),Isaac N. Millikan (2), 
Jesse Edmonston, Sam¬ 
uel Hunter (2), Charles 
Mendenhall C2), H. John¬ 
son, Geo. W. Curfman. 
No. 851.—Rebus which gives useful advice to all. 
