REVIEW OF THE AUGUST NUMBER OF THE AGRICULTURIST. 
319 
the “ science of farming,” and creating such 
houses ; and so our people lack contentment in 
places that might be like a rural Paradise, be¬ 
cause the attractive blandishments of taste are 
not there; and so they sell at the first “ fair offer ” 
and sever the easily-broken links that bind 
them to home, and away they go to the gold- 
teeming lands of California, or to some wonderful 
wheat-growing land in the west, where ague 
helps them shake off all disposition ever to make 
such a home of taste as will bind them and their 
children to it, generation after generation. 
To Measure Standing Trees. —There are thou¬ 
sands of American woodsmen that will measure 
the height of a tree by the eye, as accurately 
as your French method. “ May their shadows 
never be less.” 
Irrigation ,—What is the use of talking to peo¬ 
ple, and giving them plans of irrigating land 
while they contend that “it is no use;” or why 
talk to them about draining off the water at one 
season and watering the land at another, while 
they can “make a living” upon the old let-alone 
system ? “ Oh! leave them alone in their glory ” 
of ignorance. Why will you make people un¬ 
happy. “Ignorance is bliss.” 
To Destroy Weeds in Walks. —Capital! A 
strong way of impressing the name of a sub¬ 
stance upon the mind, as the following will 
illustrate. “Father,” said my daughter Mary, 
(who is somewhat of a gardener,) on reading 
the article under this title, “ I wish you would 
buy me some chloride of sodium, the next time 
you go to the city, and I will try to kill the 
weeds that are constantly springing up in the 
brick walk to the summer house ; as I am par¬ 
ticularly anxious to keep that clean, because I 
notice you often come out there in your slippers 
of a morning, to have a little chat with your 
‘ pet,’ about gardening and farming and such 
things as you know I am fond of, and in turn, I 
would like to give you a clean path. So, if you 
will get the article, I will try the recipe.” 
“Certainly, my daughter. It always gives 
me pleasure to do anything to gratify your taste 
for improvement, and beautify our happy 
home. Pray, step to my bookcase and bring 
me a chemical dictionary. Now look for chlo¬ 
ride of sodium , and perhaps you will not require 
me to make an especial purchase for your par¬ 
ticular use.” 
“ Why, dear me, father, I don’t think I shall. 
Neither do I think I ever shall forget that chlo¬ 
ride of sodium is common table salt. What a 
misfortune it is to be ignorant. But I am sure, 
father, that my schoolmaster never taught me 
such things, nor took such a method to salt them 
down in my memory.” 
Remarks on Improved Implements. —Does my 
young friend mean to be understood that a plow 
cannot be bought for five dollars, that has one 
word of good sense to recommend it ? And that 
a plow of that cost will only “answer some kind 
of purpose,” that is a good-for-nothing purpose? 
Such is his language, for he says distinctly, 
“ the cheap plow cannot do the work right, be¬ 
cause it never was made right.” It is very evi¬ 
dent, friend Levi, thou hast never been through 
the New-York Agricultural Warehouse, or you 
would have seen a dozen different sorts of plows 
at prices under five dollars each, which are 
“ made right” and work right, and as perfectly 
as your ten-dollar plow. 
Great Crop of Hay. —There is a friend at my 
elbow, who gives it as his decided opinion “that 
any one must be in a “greenstate” to doubt the 
ability of Connecticut-River lands to produce 
four tons of hay to the acre, when cultivated 
according to the dictates of common sense. 
And yet, there are mowing lots within sight of 
this one of Mr. Clapp’s, owned by men who 
think they cannot be taught anything about 
farming, which do not produce four tons in 
four years. A reading “ scientific farmer” cul¬ 
tivates one, an “experienced farmer,” cultivates 
the other. Comment is unnecessary. “ Facts 
are stubborn things.” “Experience” may not 
learn—perhaps his children will. 
Your Neighbor’s Hens. —Capital! It reminds 
me of an anecdote in the hen line. Mr. A. kept 
his hens shut up. He was not going to have 
his garden destroyed by his own, nor his neigh¬ 
bor’s hens. One morning, he saw a couple dig¬ 
ging into his early pea bed, and out he went 
with murder in his heart, but the hens flew 
over into neighbor B.’s garden; whereupon A. 
called over to him very angrily, that he would 
shoot the next hen he saw on his side of the 
fence, if B. did not shut them up, which B. de¬ 
clared “ he would not do, and if A. was fool 
enough to shoot them, he might do it, for all 
he cared.” A. was as good as his word, and 
day after day B. was saluted with the smell of 
gunpowder, and a message thrown over the 
fence with every fat pullet, “ there’s another 
chicken for your dinner,” until at length, not 
finding the usual supply, B. called over one 
morning to neighbor A. to know the reason. 
This awakened inquiry, when it was discovered 
that A. had been shooting his own hens as they 
occasionally escaped through a hole in the coop, 
and in his anger at his neighbor for the sup¬ 
posed tresspass, had furnished him with sundry 
good dinners. No doubt “ he was a little mad 
at first,” and thought any “ cunning trick” after 
that, better than shooting his neighbor’s hens. 
Spaying Sows with Oil of Vitriol.— What next ? 
I pause for a reply. 
Cultivation of Orchards. —Upon such land as 
described, if it is as stony as some lands I wot 
of in Connecticut,! would dig a trench four feet 
wide and deep, and fill it half full of loose 
stones, in a direction that would serve as a 
drain, whether crooked or straight, and upon 
this return the soil and set the trees. The dif¬ 
ficulty in digging holes in clayey land, for 
trees, is, that they fill with water, which would 
be sure to kill the young trees, only that they 
are so tenacious of life, they live through a deal 
of bad management. 
Starch from Indian Corn. —No doubt this arti¬ 
cle will surprise many of your readers more 
than it did myself, because I have concluded not 
to be surprised at any of the wonderful strides 
of science, in these latter days. Starch from 
Indian corn, though one of tin last wonders, 
