214 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER. 
She may not in the mazy dance 
With jewell’d maidens vie ; 
She may not smile on courtly swain 
With soft bewitching eye ; 
She cannot boast a form and mien 
That lavish wealth has bought her; 
But ah ! she has much fairer charms, 
The farmer’s peerless daughter. 
The rose and lily on her cheek 
Together love to dwell; 
Her laughing blue eyes wreathe around 
The heart a witching spell; 
Her smile is bright as morning glow 
Upon the dewy plain ; 
And list’ning to her voice, we dream 
That spring has come again. 
The timid form is not more wild, 
Nor yet more gay and free ; 
The lily’s cup is not more pure 
In all its purity ; 
Of all the wild flowers in the wood, 
Or by the crystal water, 
There’s none more pure or fair than she, 
The farmer’s peerless daughter! 
The haughty belle whom all adore 
On downy pillow lies, 
While forth upon the dewy lawn 
The merry maiden hies, 
And with the lark’s uprising song 
Her own clear voice is heard ; 
Ye may not tell which sweetest sings, 
The maiden or the bird. 
Then tell me not of jewelled fair; 
The biightest jewel yet 
Is the true heart where virtue dwells, 
And innocence is set! 
The glow of health upon her cheek, 
The grace no rule hath taught her; 
The fairest wreath that beauty twines 
Is for the farmer’s daughter. 
THE FROG. 
Of all the funny things that live 
In woodland, marsh, or bog, 
That creep the ground, or fly the air, 
Tlie funniest thing’s the frog. 
The frog—the scientificest 
Of nature’s handy-work— 
The frog that neither walks nor runs 
But goes it with a jerk. 
With pants aud coat of bottle green, 
And yellow fancy vest, 
He plunges into mud and mire— 
All in his Sunday best; 
When he sits down lie’s standing up, 
As Paddy O’ Kinn once said ; 
And for convenience sake he wears 
His eyes on the top of his head. 
You see him sitting on a log, 
Above the “ vasty deep,” 
You feel inclined to say ‘ Old chap, 
Just look before you leap!” 
You raise your cane to hit him on 
His ugly-looking mug; 
But ere you get it half way up, 
Adown he goes kerchuy. 
&c. Author unknown. 
-j^-o - 
Wiiy is a watch dog larger at night than lie 
is in the morning? Because he is let out at 
night, and taken in in the morning. 
A ’CUTE YANKEE IN MEXICO. 
KNOWING THE BULL BY THE HORNS. 
Amongst the various enterprises which fol¬ 
lowed the American flag into Mexico, was that 
of furnishing American horses to the grandees 
of that country. Larger, better formed, and 
better adapted to'harness, than the native stock, 
they were in great demand, and although many 
were lost in crossing the Gulf, and many fell 
victims to the diseases incident to acclimation, 
still the horse traders of the Mississippi valley 
pushed the business with spirit and success. 
Certainly amongst the most energetic of those 
engaged in the business, was John Howton. He 
was originally from an extreme Northern State, 
but had gradually worked along the body politic, 
as a needle-point sometimes does through the 
physical system, until he had successively pre¬ 
sented himself in almost every State in the Union. 
Finding the States, however, rather a pent up 
sort of Utica, he had crossed the Gulf in the 
wake of our army, and at the time of which we 
write, enjoyed a current acquaintance from 
Maine to Mexico, inclusive. 
IIowton’s dress and address were such as 
might have been expected from extended social 
facilities operating upon a raw material origin¬ 
ally very uncouth. His stature was short and 
square, his hair intensely crimson, and standing 
as it did in strands, radiating from his head, pre¬ 
sented a lively picture of an exploding rocket. 
His mouth was wide, and bad luck, in a spirit 
of mischief, had enlarged its apparent dimen¬ 
sions by the scar of a horse-shoe. Where the 
natural soil of bis countenance was visible 
through a beard that resembled a chesnut burr, 
it was ornamented with premium freckles, about 
the size and color of brass farthings. His cos¬ 
tume indicated the impressions of his erratic 
pursuits. He had a furred hat of a brown red 
color, which had undoubtedly been made in 
Missouri, since no manufacturers out of the 
very focus of the fur trade could have put so 
honest an excess of material into the fabric. 
His coat and overcoat were of New England, 
his leggings and whip of Ohio. In part pay 
for an American saddle, he had obtained a serape 
of many colors, and a pair of Mexican leather 
breeches with an indefinite number of bell-but¬ 
tons, which he declared “took him as long to 
fasten as it would to curry two horses,” and 
which he intended to have sewed up upon his 
return. 
Howton’s language had become as varied as 
his clothing. He had picked up his phraseology 
according to the emergencies of his eventful life, 
and he “ guessed” at the distances, or “ cara 
ho’d” the roads with equal facility. 
We were upon the highway from Mexico to 
Vera Cruz. It was night, and a very bright 
moonlight. Howton had made us familiar with 
every horse he had ever sold in Mexico, and 
we could, as commissioners, have assessed with 
sufficient accuracy every thing he was worth in 
the world, since he had told us his losses with 
as much candor as his gains. 
His speculations on the last trip had varied 
somewhat from the usual operations of his pro¬ 
fession. He had sold an Hidalgo a pair of horses 
bought out of an Ohio wagon, as having been 
begotten, bred, and broken, expressly for the 
use of “ Ex. Sen. Pres, de los Unidos Estados,” 
General Taylor, who unfortunately died, and 
therefore did not need them. During a stay of 
several days upon free quarters at the hacienda 
of the Hidalgo, where he recruited his steeds 
for a grand descent upon the city of Puebla, 
Howton had “possessed” his corteous host with 
the extreme value of the cattle of Ohio. He 
expatiated upon the effect which their introduc¬ 
tion would have upon the rather diminutive 
stock of the country, and after putting them at 
a high figure, to impress a proper estimate of 
their value, he received an order to purchase a 
bull and two cows on account of his entertainer. 
These splendid cattle, combining in their pe¬ 
digree every possible permutation of the Devon, 
Durham, and Norfolk, were called “ the patent 
abbreviated short-horn.” The cows, with their 
calves, were purchased from a flat-boat at New- 
Orleans. The bull was procured in the vicinity 
of that city, from a sugar estate, partly in ex¬ 
change for a mule, partly in consideration of 
taking him out of the neighborhood. He had 
been in the habit of “roaming with the dew 
upon his feet,” pretty much wherever he was 
inclined, whereby one of his eyes had been ex¬ 
tinguished by a fowlingpiece, and his dewlap 
torn bodily off by the dogs. But the certificate 
of pedigree and performance represented him 
as the victor of numerous fights, and even set 
forth the American Don Joses and Johns that 
the ferocious bull had slain. Fie was to become 
the progenitor of a line of bulls destined to raise 
the renown of the hacienda to a lofty elevation. 
Howton had met with another adventure 
which he had contrived to turn to account. 
Coming down from Baton Rogue as a deck pas¬ 
senger, he had found an angry Captain prepar¬ 
ing to land what every one proclaimed to be “ a 
nigger,” upon the testimony of a very dark 
skin, an unintelligible tongue, and an inability 
to perform that indispensable form of tribute 
known among navigators as “settling with the 
Captain.” Howton discovered the nondescript 
to be a “Mexikin greaser.” He joked the Cap¬ 
tain about being taken in, and finally took charge 
of the greaser at a reduced fare, intending to 
employ him in the capacity of vaquero, or cow- 
driver extraordinary, near the court of Mexico. 
The greaser, having escaped being marooned 
at a Mississippi wood-yard, was like any other 
rescued captive, very grateful. He prostrated 
himself at the feet of Howton, and, to use the 
expressions of the latter, “ the poor thing car¬ 
ried on pitiful.” He was promoted, however, 
to be master of the cattle. 
The veteran bull was provided with a large 
red hood and a blue ephod, whereupon was 
worked 
“ GENL SANTY ANNY,” 
in large letters. These ornamental garments 
were to be worn at the sale of the bull, and on 
other state occasions, at the discretion of any 
subsequent proprietor. 
But when the stock of horses and cattle was 
disembarked upon the Mexican shores, Howton 
saw that the majestic gravity with which the 
hero of the arena proceeded would delay the 
progress of his whole drove of horses, involve 
many unnecessary bills, and postpone his arri¬ 
val in market. He therefore datached Fernando, 
who was ordered to proceed with due care of 
the invaluable stock entrusted to him. He gave 
him no money, but ordered the various Posa- 
deros on the road to furnish whatever he might 
require. He then hastened forward, heralding 
the merits and magnifying the cost of the bull 
and his family at every place which he passed, 
until every posada was thronged with specta¬ 
tors to see “el toro Americano grande.” As 
Howton hastened to the Metropolis, the passen¬ 
gers in the stage were asked about the fine stock 
they had passed. At first they reported them 
getting on very well, then rumors of their illness 
were communicated by the same medium, and 
after a few days the&wZZ-etins ceased altogether. 
Howton was now returning, with the most in¬ 
dignant reproaches against the ungrateful Fer- 
nado, whom, besides having redeemed from 
bondage, he had also accoutred with a pair of 
his own breeches, the cost to be deducted from 
his salary as vaquero. 
We were approaching the place where the 
Devons and Durhams had been last heard from. 
It had been arranged that an American, who 
understood Spanish very well, should inquire 
into the circumstances. Howton wisely deter¬ 
mined to remain incognito, for fear bills might 
be presented against him. The passengers en¬ 
tered zealously into his grievances, and sympa¬ 
thized with him, whereas they should have ex¬ 
tended their congratulations rather to the Hi¬ 
dalgo, who escaped paying a very high price for 
bull beef. Such, however, is nationality. 
We all entered the tienda; (this is a shop 
about the size of a dog-kennel, or a No. 3 dry- 
