373 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
No. 152 , 
A U T U M N —THE LAST LOAD.—From a Painting by Jerome Thompson. 
The picture presented above has a double inter¬ 
est. The painting from which it is taken is the 
work of an artist who was brought up on a New- 
England farm. His earlier practice in his art 
while a boy was amid the usual labors incident 
to rural life. The moments of respite, at 
“lunch time,”‘“noonings,” and while the plow 
team was resting, he devoted to sketching upon 
his slate with pencil, instead of crayon or brush. 
Latterly he has given his whole attention to the 
pursuit of his favorite art, but the occupations of 
earlier years give character to most of his pro¬ 
ductions. The seasonable sketch above presented 
is an illustration. It is essentially an American 
scene, peculiar, perhaps, to particular localities, 
where the final gathering of the corn is made a 
festive occasion, in which the maidens join their 
brothers, cousins, and others, in celebrating the 
close of the harvesting labors, by a ride upon the 
“ last load.” The last red ear, carried aloft, is in¬ 
dicative of the coming “ Husking-Bee,” when 
the fortunate finder will claim the privileged kiss 
from ruby lips. Another young laborer extends 
his hat for his reward—the autumnal fruit—val¬ 
uable in itself, but doubly so because received as 
a token from a fair hand. The youngster, lean¬ 
ing against the docile team, seems not to be a 
participant in the others’ sports, but while try¬ 
ing to appear unconcerned, he is, perhaps, think¬ 
ing that his time will soon come—“ when he is 
a little older.” 
There is an air of quiet over the whole scene 
that well befits the season. The very oxen seem 
to show the consciousness that a time of rest is 
at hand. Thanks to Mr. Thompson, and to his 
brother artists, who thus bring out these pleasant 
features. Country life is too often felt to be only 
one of toil and care. But while it has its share 
of labor and annoyance, it has also its full meed 
of enjoyment. We doubt not that the group we 
have here pictured are enjoying themselves every 
whit as much as the most fashionable gathering 
in any gilded mansion on earth, though it be sur¬ 
rounded with all the artificial trappings of wealth. 
“Selling Out.” 
A correspondent, in a 
recent communication, 
thus discourses upon 
“ certain things to be 
considered before selling 
out:” Some one re¬ 
marked in a late num¬ 
ber of the American Ag¬ 
riculturist, that: “ The 
most prevalent disease 
among farmers—the one 
most fatal to our coun¬ 
try’s prosperity—is the 
willingness to ‘ sell out’.” 
This remark applies to 
many localities. Allow 
me to throw out a few 
suggestions which may 
well be taken into ac¬ 
count before a final reso¬ 
lution to ‘pull up stakes’, 
and go “ out West ” or 
in any other direction, to 
establish a new Home. 
And first I ask, are all 
the advantages of the 
present locality fully im¬ 
proved 1 Does the farm 
produce all that can be 
extorted from it by skill¬ 
ful labor 1 Are there no 
more ‘bush lots’ or rock 
beds to clear out, no 
swamps to drain, no 
muck-beds to mine which 
would pay largely for the 
expense oftheirimprove- 
mentl Have the acres 
lying underneath the 
surface, been brought to 
yield all they are capable 
ofl If not, would it not 
be wiser to expend the 
amount necessary to ef¬ 
fect a removal, in secur¬ 
ing the benefits within 
more easy reach 1 
Although the new loca¬ 
tion may possess promi¬ 
nent advantages, are 
these not more than 
counterbalanced by its 
own peculiar disadvanta¬ 
ges 1 Though the soil may promise greater har¬ 
vests, does it as surely redeem its promise 1 In 
many sections the land possesses capabilities of 
yielding extraordinary crops, but from peculiar 
circumstances of climate, such as subjection to ex¬ 
tremes of temperature, wet, or drouth, not more 
than one year in three proves remunerative ; and 
thus there is a constant struggle to make one year 
meet the losses of others less favorable. Are 
there good markets easily accessible, where 
you think of locating 1 There can be little satis¬ 
faction in raising one hundred bushels of grain 
per acre, if, when raised, it will bring no more 
than twenty-five would do on the ‘old place.’ 
Is the new country a healthy one 1 It is sad to 
see the poor wrecks that are continually drifting 
back from far off regions, where, though every 
thing else that could constitute an agricultural 
Eden was present, the subtle malaria poisoned 
every source of enjoyment. The life of one of 
the little flock is more dear than all the broad 
acres that can invite one to their possession. 
