202 
SEPT.28 
Jnifostpl ®0|3ic!i. 
VACATION LETTERS. 
A Working Editor Out of Harness. 
I said something in my last of a desire to 
say something of the 
ETHICS OF FARM LIFE. 
I have been stopping a part of the time I 
have been absent from the sanctum with a 
farmer who owns his own tools and rarely 
borrows one. His tool house is very nearly 
completely furnished with whatever tool is 
needed to the proper conduct of the business. 
In some cases lie finds it cheaper to hire cer¬ 
tain classes of work done by machinery than 
to own the tools and do it himself. But he 
pays for such work and for the use of the 
machinery. But he has neighbors who do 
not pursue the same policy. In one day, its 
I lay under the trees in xny hammock, read¬ 
ing and writing, one neighbor came for a 
wagoD on which to draw grain ; another for 
a cradle with which to cut his grain. (This 
last neighbor had paid $175 for an orgsn 
while the panes were out of his windowaand 
the roof of hio hou«<> leaked and the fence in 
front of it looked as if it was subject to epi¬ 
leptic fits; he also has a costly carriage and 
a showy harness and the seurvirdt-looking 
team in the neighborhood, but ke does not 
own a cradle with which to cut his grain 1) 
Another came to borrow a hand-rake which 
costs ten cents at the stores in town. Then 
in the course of the week the hand-saw was 
wanted ; a wrench : a hammer and a few 
nails ; a neighbor came a half mile to grind 
his scythes on the grindstone, &c,, and so on ! 
I said, “ Why do you allow yourself to be 
bo impose! upon by your borrowing neigh¬ 
bors 1 Aro they not able to owe their tools f ’ 
The reply was, “ Oh, I want to be neighborly. 
Borne of these men (naming them) are young, 
just starting in life, arc living on rented 
farms, and are not yet ublc to buve all these 
things. Others are perfectly able to own 
them, but havo got in the habit of borrowing 
and do not seem to know that my tools cost 
me money and that the wear and tear of 
them is so much loss to me.” 
That is the fact. Nor have they learned 
that it is cheaper to own tools than to borrow 
them. But it is time they had learned this 
lesson. It arouses my editorial indignation 
when I think of it, just as it does to have an 
editor borrow my sharpened pencils because 
he dislikes to sharpen his. Nor is it a kind¬ 
ness to the young farmer, “just starting in 
life,” to learn that he can 41 get along” by 
borrowing. It is far better that he should 
learn to be self-reliant and that the first es¬ 
sential to work and success is to have the 
tools to work with. It is a good deal like a 
man without legs and anna taking a farm 
with a view to start in life” and depend 
upon his neighbors to do his work for him, 
A young farmer should not attempt to run a 
farm, though he hires it or takes it on shares, 
unless he can provide himself with the tools i 
with which to manage it; and it should be « 
hi9 first ambition to get such tools. < 
As to tho class of habitual borrowers— 1 
those who aro perfectly able to own their 1 
own farm implements—I have no toleration 
whatever for them. I would not purchase 1 
their neighborly regard (I) by loaning them * 
a tool; and if they offered to hire one, I 1 
would charge them so much for its use (cash c 
in advance) that they would quickly discover i 
that it was cheaper to buy their own. It 1 
was only a day or so ago I heard the farmer s 
say, “ Mother, where is our five-pail kettle ?” 1 
“ Why, you loaned it to L-(a mile away) * 
three months ago aud ho has never brought 
it back.” 44 AVell, well,” said the farmer, 44 1 
want to use it and shall have to send for it; 
that’s always the way.” 
Now the good farmer got little of my sym- s 
pathy, I assure you ! On the other hand, r 
I rather enjoyed the fact that he would g 
have to hitch up his team and drive a mile v 
to accommodate a neighbor who had bor- Q 
rowed his kettle three months before and 
neglected to return it! I was a little sorry _ 
that the kettle was not three miles away, and 
I almost hoped he would Hud it cracked and * 
useless when he got it! x 
boiled, the liquid put in a watering pot and 
the vines watered with it. It proved effect¬ 
ual. The larvae quickly curled up and died. 
: A little hand-picking since, of the stray 
beetles, has cleaned the vines completely. 
Those who live where mandrakes are plenty 
should remember this next season, or make 
use of it this, if there are beetles on their 
5 vines. 
A FARMER SEEKING OFFICE. 
I happened to reach this neighborhood just 
t before the caucuses were held to elect dele- 
i gates to the Assembly District Conventions 
r and thence to the Congressional Convention. 
r There were three men in this Congressional 
5 District ambitious to go to Congress. Of the 
. three one was a farmer and a live one—one 
- of the pushing sort. He had been to the 
i Legislature and evidently was not satisfied 
; with his political experiences. His first effort 
( was to secure the delegation from his Disti ict 
> for Himself. He was up early and rode late 
t —wus almost ubiquitous—wrought as if he 
were trying to secure finely cured hay just 
, before a storm. He got the delegation from 
• jiis own District—spent much time and prob- 
i ably considerable money ; sought the suf¬ 
frages of his neighbors and their friends. But 
he lias not been nominated for Congress, and 
I seriously doubt if he has enhanced the re¬ 
spect of hi* neighbors for him or his own 
sc I ('respect by his demonstrated auxiety for 
office—by seeking it with so much egotistic 
assurance. Of course I know it is the way 
all politicians do; but it does not follow that 
such politicians arc the men to elect. 
I refer to this matter here because I think 
it a disgraceful fact thut the voting classes 
in country neighborhoods should bo treated 
and evidently regarded as so many unthink¬ 
ing puppets by one of their own class. This 
system of nominating candidates, and the 
tools thereby used, sinks the candidate’s re¬ 
spect for his fellows to the level ef the low¬ 
est of the humun cattle he finds it necessary 
to purchase, and he is found demeaning him¬ 
self and insulting his more intelligent fellows 
by so ranking them. This is the unconscious 
result of political jockeyism. It is as demor¬ 
alizing as a scrub-Uorse race in the hands of 
professional jockeys ; and it is as disgraceful 
to all concerned in it. 
Now, this politically-ambitious farmer is 
laughed at by all classes. Why ? Because 
no one bur himself had discovered that he 
was eminently qualified to represent the Dis¬ 
trict in Congress. There had been no spon¬ 
taneous and respectful demand on the part 
of his fellow farmers and neighbors, of his 
own party even, that he should uousent to 
become a candidate. He had resorted to 
political pipe-laying as a mode of convincing 
them of his distinguished ability to represent 
them ; and their indorsement of his own 
opinion of himself was to be expressed 
through packed ccucuses 1 1 do not speak of 
this as a singular mode of procedure. Un¬ 
fortunately, it is the current and approved 
mode ; but I 6pcak it as unworthy any self- 
respecting farmer, ut least. The farmer who 
warns office should first take the trouble to 
so eminently qualify himself to discharge its 
duties that he will be known of all men as so 
qualified ; and that, if elected, lie wifi not 
bring reproach upon the class to which lie 1 
belongs. When farmer* seek to reform the * 
legislation of this country, of which they now 1 
so grievously complain because it is in the 1 
hands of self-nominated and professional pol- I 
iticians, by employing the same corrupt and 
corrupting influence* these same politicians s 
employ, in order to get representation, there 1 
is little choice which wins. If the man must 1 
seek the office, rather than the office seek the * 
man, there is no hope for honesty or other ' 
than unscrupulous ability iu the officer. 
of the kind, both arms and back ached sorely; 
but I had the “never say die” in me and 
“ put her through.” The second day I was 
thrown from a horse and kicked in the mouth 
so as to knock out my upper front teeth. Of 
course, I had naught to do but retire to pri¬ 
vate life ; and then, with a half peck of corn 
meal costing me four cents, a half pound of 
butter costing me three cents, a dozen of eggs 
costing me four cents, salt at no cost, wood 
gathered by myself for my fire and cooking 
in a wood hard by free of cost, 1 did my own 
cooking and lived one week upon the above- 
named food. Meantime, I read up Horticul¬ 
ture, examined leaves and wood, and really 
gained more of practical knowledge of life’s 
realities than I ever have since in the same 
length of time. F. R. Elliott. 
SKINNING AND MOUNTING FISH. 
TASTE OF PRACTICAL LIFE. 
MANDRAKE ROOT FOR P3TAT0 BEETLES. 
We found a lew of the larva? of the Colo¬ 
rado Potato Beetle at work on the potato 
vines in the garden the other day. An effort 
to get Paris green had failed. Some one 
happened to remember reading in the Rural 
New-Yorker a statement by a correspond¬ 
ent that mandrake root steeped and the re¬ 
sulting liquid spriukled on the pests, would 
destroy them. Accordingly, roots were dug, i 
I write the following, more to record a 
short item of my life scenes than as advice or 
recommendation to others ; also to show san¬ 
guine, energetic young men what can be done 
with a calm determination to accomplish an 
object. 
Years ago (over SO have passed) I left New 
York Cit$ r , where 1 had been, for a time, 
accustomed to free use of money and the 
luxuries it would buy. I landed in Cincin¬ 
nati with 50 cents only in iny pocket. 1 put 
up at the Broadway Hotel. My breakfast 
took my last penny. 1 hunted up a relation 
of mine who had a bare shanty house out on 
Walnut Hills. I toted my 44 duds” out there; 
took a straw mattress ; slept more quietly 
than I ever had on down in New York ; woke 
early ; cooked my corn dodgers on a griddle 
This class of animals possesses many beau¬ 
ties, which, when removed from their native 
element, vanish forever, and it is in vain for 
the taxidermist to try to imitate those irides¬ 
cent tints which characterize the living speci¬ 
men*. The best he can do is to preserve in 
form and general outline those characteristics 
by which he may be able to recognize his 
subject. Before proceeding to describe the 
operation of skinning, it may be well to state 
that the scales, as well as their color, maybe 
preserved to a certain degree by applying 
tissue-paper to them, which from the natural 
glutinous matter which covers the scales will 
adhere firmly ; this being allowed to remain 
until the skin has dried, may bo easily re¬ 
moved by moistening with a damp cloth. 
All small fish should be mounted in section 
while the larger varieties may be preserved 
entire. Suppose the fish to be such a size as 
to be mounted in section. First, it is neces¬ 
sary that it be as fresh as possible, as the 
scales will become detached if decay be al¬ 
lowed to commence. Lay the fish on one 
side, and cover the side uppermost with 
tissue-paper, as stated above ; also extend 
the fins by means of the same and allow 
them to remain a few moments until they 
become fixed and dry ; this will be a protec¬ 
tion to the fins and scales during the process 
of skinning. Having provided yourself with 
a damp cloth, spread it smoothly upon the 
table, aud place the fish upon it with the 
papered side down. With the disseeting- 
scissors cut the skin along a line following 
tho. contour of the body, but a little below 
the extreme dorsal edge, and a little above 
the ventral one, and remove the skin included 
within this line. The remaining skin must 
now be detached from the fiesh, beginning 
at the head and separating it downward to¬ 
ward the tail. The spine must be severed 
close to the head, and also at the tail, and the 
entire body removed. All the flesh having 
been taken from the skin, and the eyes re¬ 
moved, the inside must be wiped out and the 
preservative applied. 
It is necessary here to repeat the caution 
not to use any unnecessary strain that will 
be liable to distend the skin. The skin should 
now be filled with cotton or tow, and this 
must be laid so evenly that there shall be no 
prominences upon the outside of the same. 
When filled, it should be laid with the open 
side down, upon a board of proper dimensions 
previously prepared, aud fastened to it by 
means of small tacks, commencing at the 
head, and fastening the edges downward to¬ 
ward the tail. It should then be set aside in 
the air to dry, care being taken not to expose 
it to the rays of the sun. When dry, the 
paper which covers the exposed side, and 
with which the rays are distended, may be 
removed in the manner previously stated, 
and the glass eyes inserted with a little putty. 
As the glass eyes used by taxidermists are 
generally too spherical, and polished, it is 
well to manufacture them of wood, using 
common paint to restore the color, avoiding 
the use of varnish. 
Finally, the skin should receive a coat of 
thin, colorless varnish, after which it is ready 
for the cabinet. In sharks and large fishes 
uu incision should be made below the head 
at its base, aloug the ridge of the back, follow¬ 
ing to either side of the dorsal fin down to 
the. taiL The skin can then be separated on 
each side, and by severing the vertebras at 
the head and tail, the entire body may be re¬ 
moved. The tail having been skinned, the 
head should be pushed inward and the skin 
passed over it, when all the cartilage can be 
over a wood lire ; boiled my eggs ; ate heart- , freely cut away. In stuffing these large 
fly and went to work sawing poles for mak- species it becomes necessary to use a body 
ing of pole fence. Not exactly used to work support, and a bar of light wood may be used 
; for this purpose ; this should enter the skull, 
1 thereby being more easily kept in position, 
3 and extend to the base of the tail. Hooks 
i can be fastened to this bar, and by means of 
f wire the specimen can be suspended from 
- above. The body should then be stuffed with 
i hay, and the incision upon the back carefully 
f sewed up. If the first coat of varnish is ob- 
5 served to rise in scales, it should be removed 
| with a solution of nitric acid and water, and 
; the skin allowed to dry, when a second ap- 
i plication of varnish will ever afterward re¬ 
main tjuite solid. 
We may state in conclusion that, with the 
• exception of large turtles, alligators, and 
i their allie*, large sharks and a few other 
fishes of great size, stuffed specimens cf the 
two classes of reptiles and fishes are very un¬ 
satisfactory to the naturalist, aud that, when¬ 
ever it is practicable to preserve the specimen 
in alcohol, that method should be adopted 
in place of skinning and stuffing.— American 
Naturalist. 
-♦♦♦-- 
FISH CULTURE FOR FARMERS. 
A. J. Hinds of Long Island writes to the 
New York Times the following suggestive 
letter :—Many a farmer might supply his 
own table with delicious fish, or, if he pre¬ 
ferred, sell his fish, to be taken by the sports¬ 
men themselves and paid for at so much per 
pound. I often have letter* inquiring how 
many trout will one acre, or some other 
given amount, of surface of water sustain. 
Now, this is the most difficult question that 
could be asked. The surface area of water 
has very little to do with it. All depends on 
the temperature of the water and the 
amount of flow. I have ponds large enough 
to sail or row on and cast the fly ; but for 
raising trout for market 1 am decidedly op¬ 
posed to pond*. All my neighbors have 
canals, fed by springs, and make more mon¬ 
ey than I do. Ponds freeze up in witter and 
heat up in summer. These extremes are not 
healthy for trout. I can raise more trout in 
a canal dug out deep, uud of a superior qual¬ 
ity, than can be raised with the same water 
dammed up ; besides, we get rid of all risk 
of dam-breaking. Again, they are so much 
easier covered. By doing more than 
double the quantity of trout can be kept in 
the same water. Some think trout need 
sunlight. This is a mistake. I have seen a 
pair of trout put into a well 20 feet deep, 2 
feet wide ; after three years taken out, when 
it was found they had gained one pound a 
year, which is ns much as can be depended 
upon under any circumstances. 
Now take that for a standard. A canal or 
race 10 feet wide and 100 feet long would 
sustain 1,000 trout with little or no circula¬ 
tion, as a well has no circulation except that 
the water runs in as fast as it is drawn out, 
and no faster. But your canal must be cov¬ 
ered aud dug as deep as possible, when you 
have no running stream, so os to keep the 
water cool. If you have one pond of water 
to turn in, by extending your canal, or, what 
is better, make several short ones, ten time* 
us many trout can be kept. But in any and 
all cases, if you wish to keep all you can, 
cover your canals, except a pair of trap-doors 
at the upper end to be opened on sunny 
days, and for feeding. In covering canals, 
lay j-our timber, poles or plank just under 
the surface of the water, thus they will not 
rot; put on sod, or turf, cover at least one 
foot; by this method a springy meadow or 
swamp con be so thoroughly under-drained 
as to be suited for onions or anything you 
wish to raise. There is no loss of land, and 
five times as much in value can be raised in 
trout as can be raised on the surface. This 
is what I call underground fish farming. 
How far this process will pay, you cau 
determine by trying it on a small scale at 
first. I am sure there are hundreds that 
would do it if they were sure of success, pay 
or no pay, in dollars and cents, simply for 
their own gratification and amusement. This 
is the only way to keep trout absolutely safe 
from poachers or thieves, as well as ducks, 
cranes, snakes, and, in fact, all other ene¬ 
mies to trout. Nothing herein contained 
is intended to discourage those having a 
plenty of running water flu wage sufficient 
to keep a pond pure and healthy—ponds are 
very nice, and add not a little to the scenery 
and landscape—but only for those who can¬ 
not support an open pond, or for those that 
wish to utilize their water and land at the 
same time. I know of many houses that 
have, or can liave, springs in their cellars. 
In all such cases, by digging two feet deeper, 
and by laying a light floor, a family can 
raise all the trout they need for their own 
use with what curd, meat, &c., that would 
keep a dog, and at the same time afford 
endless amusement for all concerned. 
