mass, 
ROCHESTER, N. Y.-FOR THE WEEK ENDING SATURDAY, NOVEMBER 15, 1862, 
MOORE'S RURAL NEW-YORKER 
Where the natural drainage is not first rate, drains 
must be dug and filled up with stones. IT left open, 
the cold air will pass through them very freely, and 
its place bo supplied by warm air from above. 
Great care must bo exercised to obtain thorough 
drainage,and to secure the rapid passage of water that 
forms from the thawing ice. Lay branches on the 
bottom of the house as evenly as possible, and cover 
these with straw before commencing to pack. This 
is a very simple and cheap way, and is all the floor¬ 
ing required, though any other plan may be adopted 
that will accomplish tbq end—quick and thorough 
drainage. 
Ice keeps best in large masses, and for several 
reasons. In a large body there Is much less surface 
exposed in proportion to the whole. Melting ice 
absorbs and renders latent a large amount of heat, 
so that the thawing of a part helps preserve that 
which'remains. A house twelve feet each way on 
the ground, and eight or ten feet high, is large 
enough lor any family, and even for two or three 
families ; yet it is as sm:tll as we would recommend 
any one to build, as the costand trouble is but little 
more (ban for a house just largo enough, and the 
supply is certain. The ice made in the early part 
ot the winter, and that which has been subjected to 
no change from freezing to thawing, is the best. It 
should be sawed out in square cakes as unilorm in 
size and thickness ns possible. All snow, and ice 
THS I.KADINO AMERICAN WEEKLY 
RURAL, LITERARY AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER. 
CONDUCTED BY D. D. T. MOORE, 
With an Able Corps of Assistants and Contributors. 
C3AS, D. BHACJDON, Western Corresponding Editor, 
> runty, utwimness nno variety of Contents, ami unique 
and beantiful in Appearance. Its Conductor devotes hig per¬ 
gonal attention to the supervision of its various departinentg, 
and earnestly labors to render the Rpra t, an eminently Reliable 
Guide ou all the important Practical, Scientific and other 
Subjects intimately connected with the businessorthose whose 
interests it realonsly advocates. As a Family Journal it Is 
eminently Instructive and Entertainimr -being go conducted 
that it can be safely taken to the Heart* and Homes or people 
of intelligence, taste and discrimination. It embraces more 
Agricultural, HorticnitnmJ, Scientific. Kducntional, Literary 
and News Matter, interspersed with appropriate and beautiful 
Enpraving-s, than any other journal,—rendering it the most 
complete Aohictitviial, Literary and Family Nkwspapkb 
in America. 
t"y For Term* and"other particulars, see last pane. 
NOTES AND INQUIRIES. 
An Out-Door Cellar. 
Eon. Rural Nitr-Yosn?.:—Will yo i give some hints that 
will aid mo In making an out door cellar, if yon think such a 
construction valuable for the farmer. Wo have a fair collar 
under the house, but it ia not large enough for storing roots, 
&c., for stock. More than this, such use of a house cellar 
keeps it always dirty, and is in every- way inconvenient. T 
feel the need of more cellar room and plenty of it, and will 
be thankful for any advice on the subject.—F akmbr, Cayuga 
Co., A. r. 
It is very unwise to store a large quantity of veg¬ 
etable., in (ho Cvtilar of u, fiirrn bonne <‘Wr, if It is of 
sufficient capacity. In the latter part of winter 
there will be some decay, and nothing can bo more 
detnmental to health than living over a mass of de¬ 
caying vegetable matter. But few cellars are large 
enough to hold the products of the farm that require 
winter storage. As we devote .more attention to 
the economical feeding of stock, the necessity of 
good root cellars will be felt more seriously. Car¬ 
rots. beets, parsnips, cabbage, and (he like, require 
cellar room. A sandy hillside is the best nlnnn for 
ivpa. kokal rs k\v i okkkr i—in s late num/berof Urn Rural 
1 rvid a proposition for farmers and gsrdenftrS to raise their 
own seed. May I tell you my experience With onions ? I 
have always bought the seed at the stores, it being more 
trouble lo raise the little I wanted than to buy it The result 
has been, for more than 30 times 1 have failed to get a good 
crop. I had thought the seed must be tbs cause. 1 visited a 
largo seed garden and found seed growing from inferior onions, 
such as I guessed could not bo sold in market I wag asking 
n friend last spring, a largo grower of onions, (B. It Cijfojw, 
of Bristol.lt. I..) what he did with his seal lions, (a variety of 
onions with very thick stalk and little bulb.) Said he did not 
raise such—he raised life own good. 1 asked him to send me 
some seed if he had any to spare. In ono of the last days of 
May, ( received a package of seed, and though late, I planted 
a patch, about half of a rod. They are decidedly the best 
crop I over raised ; they are yet growing, not all big ; gome 
are 11?A inches in circumference, and not a scallion among 
them. I have taken no more paius with them than I have at 
other times, when more than half would be scallions. 
I planted in a hot bed last spring, what 1 bought for broculi. 
The plants have grown finely, but they have neither head nor 
heart; but leaves two feet eight inches long. I don't know 
what to do with them.—D amkl Edwards, Little Genesee 
N. Y. 
Ad a general rule, “like produces like,” and if we 
grow seeds from inferior vegetables, the crop will 
be inferior. The very best specimens of vegetables, 
grains, &c., should be saved for seed. If strict 
attention was given to this rule, we would soon 
observe a great improvement, both in our garden 
and field crops. It is well for the fanner and gar¬ 
dener lo save all the fieeils he needs, as far as possi¬ 
ble, if ho will exercise proper care to keep them 
pure, but home-saved seeds, as generally grown, 
are worse than worthless, and the same is true of 
much that is offered in the market. The regular 
seed-grower possesses many advantages over the 
farmer lor obtaining pure and good peed, if he 
understands bis business, and if he Is strictly honest 
these advantages will benefit the purchaser more 
than the seller. But, there is great temptation to 
UvnVA/l'BllJ GROUSE 
The above beautifv/l ;m<u spirited engraving is 
appropriate at t.luy' present season, and will be 
recognized as life-like by many of our readers, 
especially by those in the prairie regions of the 
West WUMts’ Spirit of the 1st insfc, («> which we 
are indebted for the Illustration,) says that “the 
pinnated grouse, prairie chicken commonly called, 
are now in seasion, and may bo seen in many a 
field of the great West, as thick as the artist has 
hero grouped them. These beautiful game birds 
are uncommonly abundant In the prairie regions of 
Illinois and the States west of the Mississippi. In 
the season a vast quantity of (hem are shot and 
shipped from Chicago to New York and other east¬ 
ern marts. The pinnated grouse of the plains is 
not near as wild and shy a bird as I he beautiful 
ruffed grouse of our woodlands. Ou a frosty morn¬ 
ing, in the West, the former may sometimes he seen 
sitting in long rows upon the rail fences, and some 
fellows of the baser sort seize that opportunity, 
sometimes, te commit, ‘murder. 5 The pinnated 
grouse, when young, fat, and properly cooked and 
served, is a delicious dish. We know of no brown 
bird, unless it lie the canvas back duck, that beats 
him, in bis prime, for the table. They have recently 
been introduced in England, and have bred this 
season in the garden of Mr. Granti.k v Berkeley,” 
who visited this country a year or two ago. 
In its article m Grouse, tho New American Cy- 
clopcedla thus describes the subject of our illustra¬ 
tion :—“The pinnated grouse, prairie hen or chicken 
( T. cupido, Linn.; genus, oupklonia , Reich ,) has a 
(ail of 18 feathers, short, truncate, and much gradu¬ 
ated, and a tuft of long, lanceolate feathers on each 
side of the neck, covering a bare space capable of 
considerably inflation. The plumage is covered 
with ft ansverse bands of white on a brown ground 
the latter nearly black, and the former with a rufous 
tinge, above; long leathers of the throat black; 
different specimens vary much in color. The length 
is about 17 Inches, with an extent of wings of 28, 
and a weight of 3 lbs. This species, once common 
in the Atlantic slates, is now mostly confined to the 
western prairies and plains; the old name in New 
Y oi lv was heath hen. The food is acorns, buds, 
leaves, berries, and grains. They do not migrate, 
b,l t remain all the year in their favorite and barren 
grounds; in tho spring the males are In the habit of 
meeting at. break of day in what are called ‘scratch¬ 
ing places, 5 where they swell and strut with gTeat 
poinp, and engage in fierce contests, uttering a pe¬ 
culiar sound rendered more intense by the large 
inflated sacs on the sides of the neck. Their flesh 
is excellent food.” 
waus; u not, posts unu pianK will answer. A 
strong ridge pole is necessary, which must he sup¬ 
ported by posts. Bank up the sides with earth, and 
plank the roof, and cover with straw or leaves, over 
which rough boards, or something of the kind, must 
be placed to prevent blowing off An easy entrance 
should bo made at the lT«rnt by digging down the 
earth In a gradual slope; and as this part will be 
exposed to the weather it should be made double; 
and if of hoards, filled/between with straw. Where 
Btone is used a spacq for air is sufficient. Perhaps 
some of our reader** who have had experience in 
the building and ii/se ot out-door cellars, will give 
us the benefit of tLfeir knowledge of the subject. 
An Ice IIoiihc. / 
Eds. Rural Ne^Y-Yorker:— I would like to set a little in¬ 
formation thrnugt’ tlie columns of your excellent paper, iu 
regard to the bujpdiug of an ice house. Although it is a little 
out of season. \j would like to know if one large enough for a 
common sized/fain iiy could not be built in a cellar and If so 
what is the b/st way to build a cheap one. and what materials 
ought to I' 6 used Y If sojne one who has tried it, will give 
the re'ubired information, it will oblige me, and I have no 
ij/'ialit many other readers of your paper. — L J u.ku,, 
West Kendal, Orleans Co., A. Y. 
This query, contrary to the intimation of our cor¬ 
respondent, we think quite seasonable, for it is best 
that all preparation for keeping ice should be made 
before cold weather sets in, when out-door work is 
both slow and unpleasant. A dry cellar, with good 
drainage and well ventilated, will answer for keep¬ 
ing ice, but we should much prefer to build a cheap 
place above gro^l. Damp and heat are the two 
great agents that cause our ice to thaw, and our ef¬ 
forts must be directed to counteract these. The old 
plan of building ice-houses under ground was had, 
as it was almost impossible to secure good drainage 
and sufficient ventilation to arrest the dampness 
which is sure to exist in all underground rooms or 
houses. Then the ground is too good a conductor 
and communicates its heat very readily to other 
bodies, much more so than even the aLr. The 
best material for an ice-house is wood, next brick, 
and theu stone. The wooden walls should be made 
double by boarding both on the outside and inside 
of the frame timbers, the space between being filled 
with some non-conducting material. Charcoal dust 
is an excellent non-conductor; dry tan-bark or saw¬ 
dust will do very well, and if neither of these can 
be procured, straw will answer a very good pur¬ 
pose. We have known ice to keep well when the 
house was made of one thickness of common hoards, 
''vith plenty of straw packed at the sides, well Cov¬ 
ered, and with good ventilation at the top. 
and symmetrical iu outline and feature is his duty; 
for the impression that is made upon the mind of the 
child, in early life, lasts. It molds his (the child’s) 
whole life, affecting not only his character but his 
life-work. The heritage of such associations and 
the privilege of returning to such a home, is better 
than an inheritance of gold. The life of dm child is 
renewed iu the man. A clear perception of dross 
and its value compared with the good and the enjoy¬ 
able is secured;- tho picture and fact reproduced. 
I have no upostrophe to address to home. 1 have 
no personal experiences that 1 desire to obtrude ou 
the reader’s attention -— no sentimental scenes to 
reproduce on paper. But I have to urge the advan¬ 
tages which follow a permanent, settlement for life 
in one’s own chosen and created (almost) home. 
There is great gain in being settled down. It is 
two-fold. Each year accumulates about the farmer 
the material by which labor is lessened. The rough 
channels of labor become worn and smooth. The 
friction of tho system is constantly diminished. 
These accumulations are adapted to the locality and 
its needs. A change involves a great loss; and it is 
rare that there is a corresponding gain. The waste 
of frequent removal is enormous. Time Ir lost; 
labor is expended; money is paid out; the wear and 
tear of removal is no small item; and above all the 
breaking up of old associations (if good) is often 
disastrous in the extreme. Purenta and children 
become unsettled. 11 is a radical change in the lives 
of all, from which recovery is rare. 
It is true, we are getting cosmopolitan in our 
habits; but it is not the less true that this fact ren¬ 
ders the homestead all the more necessary. The 
homes of a people are the fortresses they fight to 
defend. Without them, a people become nomadic 
in their habits, and the spot ol ground that subsists 
ihem is as dear to them as any other, no matter in 
what country or under what government it may be. 
It may be said there is no danger that we will be¬ 
come such a people. But it. cannot be successfully 
established that, we are not tending in that direction. 
Let the man who has a homestead keep it; let him 
that has none, get one. and labor to render it attrac¬ 
tive to the absent, and a constant joy to those who 
abide in it 
3AMBUCU3 CANADENSIS. 
Some plain spoken, right-minded farmer will ask, 
as he reads the above heading, What in topbet is 
tb at ? Sum —who ! J ” I saw this Sam alou g t he road- 
sides bounding some of the New York farms. 1 saw 
it (him) in the fence corners, thrusting ite(bis)head 
out of the stone-heaps, through the stone walls, from 
among the rail rubbish piled up where last, year’s 
fence was removed. It(he) stood in the barn-yards 
invaded the plowed fields of Farmer Shiftless, 
who invai iably gives him plenty of room. 
This Sam — cus ought to be driven out of the 
country. lie is no sort ot relation to our respected 
Uncle Sam; but he has long taxed many Eastern 
fanners as heavily—and even now, when the latter 
is trying taxing on pretty hard, Sam-bu ous lightens 
his hold not a bit [ should not have given the fel¬ 
low so much space in these columns, at this time, 
but tor the fact that a certain very respectable gen- 
tlemon out West has been trying to induce him 
(Sumbucns) to settle in the West, — or rather to in¬ 
duce Western farmers to invite him and adopt 
measures to get him there. I asked an old neigh¬ 
bor, whose fences were nearly bidden by this inter¬ 
esting individual, if he did not thiuk it (him) a 
pretty shrub — its flowers fragrant, its berries lus¬ 
cious, its bark useful, and the whole thing of grpat 
value in an ornamental and economical point of 
view; telling him. at the same time, of "Ik* effort to 
introduce it iu (be West, As I talked of its good 
qualities his face grew redder and redder, his 
whiskers grew irritable, and his lips assumed an ex¬ 
pression of ineffable scoru. lie only replied 
“Blast itT ' 
And so say I, blast it —the common elder—the 
Sambucus Canadensis. 
“fHB HOMESTEAD. 
I am not sorry there is no law of primogeniture 
governing the disposal of estates in this country; 
but I have sometimes regretted that Home law did 
not exist by which the homestead of a family might 
forever remain sacred to it, regardless of the claims 
of usurers and other land-sharks of that ilk — by 
which it might always remain a home to which each 
succeeding generations might return and gather in 
the halls of its forefathers in family re union — by 
which the accumulated household treasures and 
souvenirs might be placed beyond the reach of the 
sheriff and his processes, to remuin on the home¬ 
stead and give pleasure to and revive the early 
associations of tho returned wanderer. I am aware 
that it. is a nice point to decide where this matter 
might begin and where it should end and yetueenre 
justice to all. It is not my purpose to discuss it; but 
but to impress the lesson it suggests, or that sug¬ 
gests it. 
Few men whose early life has been spent on a 
farm, and who have left a homestead to buffet with 
the wurld, but will sympathize in the sentiment, 
when I say there is no greater pleasure, no more 
exquisite enjoyment realized by visiting any spot 
on earth, than that of returning, after long years of 
absence, to the place of one’s birth, to the home of 
his childhood, to the mother who bore him aud to 
the father who counseled with him during his 
minority. The sensation of pleasure is felt the mo¬ 
ment one’s face is turned homeward, and is intensi¬ 
fied in exact ratio to bis progress thither; if not, he 
is not a true man. or his early life and home have 
been shadowed with sorrow, or chilled with unna¬ 
tural associations. 
The lesson theu, is this:—It is good to have a home 
to return to— a place of refuge where the wanderer, 
no matter what his circumstances may be, will be 
welcome. It is good to have this home associate#, 
with all that is affectionate and cheerful with use 
aud beauty—with industry and thrift—with purity 
and truth—with all that is lovely and of good re¬ 
port. To make such a home for his children is cer¬ 
tainly the duty of the farmer. To make it beautiful 
THE HOAD DAW AND ITS EFFECTS. 
I find the road law ol New York is every where 
received with favor, and is enforced. I say every 
where; it may be that near cities and large towns 
the class ot persons who pastured their cattle in the 
streets, do not like it. But among farmers its prac¬ 
tical operation is gratifying. The /firmer who own 3 
a large farm, keeps a large dairy of cows, (at home,) 
and a large herd of young stock, (in the road.) finds 
