THE BUBAL HEW-YOBMER. 
the other small animals arid carious wonders 
that there surround them. And as we explored 
the contents of our treasure-boxes, we ofteu 
wished that we too might see them living, and 
study the strange things that inhabit the sands 
and rocks washed by the ocean, which with every 
wave throws new gifts at the feet of the ob¬ 
server. Annie L. Jack. 
-- 
SETH GREEN ON THE GAME LAWS. 
An old sportsman like Seth Green ought to be 
able to suggest some practical way of preserving 
game as well as supplying our streams with fish; 
but he writes to the Chicago 1'ickl in a rather 
discouraging strain, giving little encouragement 
except as it regards fisb. lie says: 
Having used a rod and gun over forty years, 
I have seen the steady decrease of game and fish 
in this country. You cannot mako your game 
laws so stringent that your greatgrandchildren 
will know what tire game birds in your State 
looked like, except by history. I see by your 
last issue that you recommend the abolition of 
all duck and snipe shooting in the spring. I 
write to let you know that I heartily agree with 
you. Make the heat laws you can, and game in 
this country will be ail gone in a few years; and 
that would have been the case with fish if the 
art of artificial propagation had not been discov¬ 
ered. All of our waters will be kept stocked by 
the above method for all time to come. 
Stock your waters by artificial hatching, and 
protect them during spawning season, and make 
your laws so that your constables can make ar¬ 
rests at the time the offenders are caught in the 
act of breaking the game law, and make tho 
fine heavy, aud also confiscate his fishing or 
hunting utensils; imprison him in tho work- 
house, where he has got to work, in place of ( 
lying in jail and having nothing to do. You will j 
then havo a game law that lawless people will < 
not care to break. The way the game law is now ] 
in this Slate, helps to some extent, but nothing i 
like what it would he if constables could t 
arrest tho culprit in tho act. Tho way tho ^ 
law is now in this State is to sue the same as in f 
a civil suit: it is passed and carried over, and in c 
tho end the lawyer has got all of the lawbreak- r 
er’s money, who is fed at the county expense, s 
and cornea out fat. e 
sources soon failed, and his wife was invited to 
“make a home at a friend’s house." His real 
vocation had now asserted itself. He was hence¬ 
forth only to be known as a naturalist. He and 
his wife had embarked on the voyage of life de¬ 
pendent upon a pursuit that appeared to have 
no solid foundation. How nobly that wife hon¬ 
ored herself in the fearful struggle ia one of the 
most interesting pages of devotion that history 
records of the sex. 
Tho “ups and downs ” of this eccentric man. 
from this time and for many years of his life, 
have no parallel. How he supported himBelf 
aud met the expenses of a constantly-increasing 
family, can only bo explained on the principle 
that the hospitality of the planters was un¬ 
bounded. Certain it ia, that Audnhon and his 
wife, under the most trying pecuniary difflcul- 
I ties, commanded the greatest possible oonsidera- 
tion, for they met with friends everywhere. The 
wife’s courage never failed, and Audubon’s hope¬ 
fulness never llagged. All the while, whatever 
wore his vicissitudes, ho employed every leisure 
moment communing with tho feathered inhabit¬ 
ants of tho forest. Gradually his chief pursuit 
toolc tho form of an cventually-to-be-publislied 
work on American Ornithology. As the idea 
crystaliwd hi his brain, the purpose of his life 
for the first timo became apparent. Now hus¬ 
band and wife worked for and understood the 
future; Audubon more earnestly studying the 
birds, the wife using her many accomplishments, 
as an instructress of the wealthy planters’ 
daughters, to procure the necessary means for 
immediate use. 
AUDUBON THE NATURALIST. 
Although never much addicted to “ hero wor¬ 
ship ” still we confess to a weakness (if it may 
bo called such) for perusing every scrap of his¬ 
tory which in any way throws light upon the lives 
of men like At'mrsoN and bis co-laborers in the 
great field of Natural History. Their struggles 
iu life to obtain the information sought.—aud 
against the superstition andproj udicos of the peo¬ 
ple of their times, afford lessons which shonldnot 
he lost upon the present generation—teaching 
those who oppose scientific investigation, the 
folly of scoffing at luen whose labors they cannot 
appreciate or understand, but to whom duo 
honor w ill, at some future day, bo Awarded. Tho 
following brief sketch of tho life and labors of 
Audubon by T. B. Thorpe, as contributed tot ho 
Turf Field aud Form, will no doubt bo rend by 
many of our readers with as much pleasure as it 
has been by ourselves. 
Audubon inherited from his father a fair prop¬ 
erty in one of tho most picturesque regions of 
Pennsylvania. When scarcely twenty-one, he 
marriod a lady of superior social standing and 
intellectual culture. To carry out his eccentric 
Bchomes, he determined to remove to tho “ groat 
West,” then (1806) emphatically a wilderness. 
To accomplish this, ho disposed of his patrimo¬ 
nial estate, and with a large stock of merchan¬ 
dise, and his yonng wife, ho gaily crossed the 
Alleg^ianies, and taking a llatboat, became a 
voyager toward some unconsidercd destination. 
The season was Spring, when La belle Ohio was 
in its gayest attire. Morniug, noon, and niglit- 
in sunshine and storm, Audubon was iu a con¬ 
stant delirium of enjoyment. At the turn of 
every bend some new surprise awaited liis vision. 
The bear and deer appeared woiideringiy upon 
the banks, or fearlessly plunged into t ho silvery 
stream. But the myriads of waterfowl, that, 
hidden away in tho nooks, when alarmed by in¬ 
trusion would fill tho air, and then llee to their 
distant hiding places, gave him the most intense 
pleasure. And that yonng, beautiful and aris¬ 
tocratic bride soon caught the inspired spirit that 
animated her husband, and looked upon tho 
fairy scenes with his eyes and indulged in his 
hopefulness. Nor was tho illusion ever broken 
by tho long years of hardship and privation, that 
preceded a finally glorious success. 
When Audubon and his boat, with its cargo, 
arrived at Louisville, ho left his merchandise to 
bo disposed of by others, while ho soon became 
absorbed in “ hunting expeditions,” which finally I 
so occupied his time that his partners were al- I 
lowed to carry off his goods; his pecuniary re¬ 
10 Twelve or fourteen years after Audubon’s re- 
10 from the Florida parishes of Louisiana. 
> r we became a temporary resident of tho vicinity' 
t- We were soon aware of the fact, by finding at 
d the hospitable mansion of an old and wealthy 
11 family a magnificent, but unfinished drawing in 
11 chalk, of an eagle, which served tho useful 
■v Plaoe of a covering for a fire-board. Upon ask- 
K ing tho name of the artist, we were informed 
d that it was Audubon, and furthermore, that ho 
o was for months together in the house a welcome 
u guest, occupied in his favorite pursuit. From a 
i drawer, evidently seldom opened, were produced 
' ni!m ? t; "llcd pieces of paper, on which were 
, sketched in a bold manner parts of birds, espe¬ 
cially their feet and wings. Upon one was a dim 
- outline of the head of an eagle, under which he 
had written, “Napoleon at St. Helena." 
Inquiry subsequently informed ua I bat Mrs. 
Audubon’s pupils had grown into womanhood, 
and were everywhere distinguished for tlieir su¬ 
perior culture and social influence. Of Audubon 
nothing was remembered, except the fact that 
' he was unappreciated and entirely misunder¬ 
stood. lie was looked upon as a harmless luna¬ 
tic, who had no settled purpose in life. He was 
j borne with by the common pcoplo because of his 
good nature and willingness to enter into their 
rural sports, aud because he would lead off in 
their frolics and, if need be, fiddle, that they 
might dance. Ho made tho good-natured ne¬ 
groes valuable servitors, for they caught for him 
iu tho swamps infantile alligators, and in the 
open fields tho deadly rattlesnake. Ho com¬ 
manded respect, however, for his use of the 
rifle; from his earliest childhood he was a “dead 
shot,' his skill iu this direction won the ap- ! 
plause of Daniel Boone himself. It was a com- I 
niou thing for him to spend entire days in the 
dark forest, studying the habits of some peculiar 
bird-; inakiug his bed of tho Spanish rnoss that 
he stripped from the trees, defying the mosqui¬ 
toes by an ingenious net of lfis own invention. 
It was in those solitudes of nature that he en¬ 
riched liis mind with Buch rare experiences that, 
when given to the world in book form, caused 
tho European naturalists at first to question the 
truth of the serious matter of his grave ornitho¬ 
logical works, i 
A single illustration of Audubon's method will 
give tho key to the spirit that animated his life 
when professionally engaged. On one occasion, 1 
when nearly sundown, his quick eye discerned , ' 
an eagle sitting upon tho dead limb of a light- ] 
ening-blasted tree, which conspicuously towered 1 
above tho surrounding forest. The bird was 1 
evidently contemplating tho glorious spectacle < 
of the sun’s departing rays. Instantly Audubon 1 
became interested; quietly boentered the house, < 
seized his rifle, and starting iu au opposite 4 
direction from his intended route, he was soon f 
lost in the approaehiug gloom. A long time 
seemed to elapse. The bird, as if conscious of 1 
safety, still maintained its sublime eyrie; tho 1 
last rays of the suu were glancing upon its proud f 
form; suddenly he sprang upward; a dull, v 
rolling echo disturbed the now gloomy forest, i 
and a white puff of smoke struggled for an 1 
instant against the skv. A moment more, aud r 
Audubon ft] ipeared with his prize! Before the s 
body was fairly cold he had secured the skin, r 
and with an artistic method, extraordinary and t 
rapid, made up the effigy. The next morning he g 
was at work by the dawn of day. By the help of s 
a daring negro he secured the limb of the tree b 
from which the bird was shot, and fastening its 1; 
base firmly in the ground, he placed the eagle d 
upon it as he sat in all the glory of his native a 
o pride. And ere the shades of another night set 
•1 m, he had completed tho finest drawing of his 
- immortal work. 
1 In the comparatively primitive times is Loui¬ 
siana of which we speak, a weekly mail was a 
i gratefully-accepted boon. It was then no un- 
- common thing for some good reader to open a 
i popular newspaper, and read to the attending 
' crowd the most exciting news. We remember 
that on one particular occasion it was stated that 
the Emperor of Russia, while returning home 
from Lis visit to Queen Victoria, had occupied 
his leisure time looking over Audubon’s mag¬ 
nificent collection of North American birds, to 
which book he was a subscriber, and furthermore, 
that he had sent the author a Bignet ring Btud- 
ded with diamonds, as a token of his admiration. 
Lead that item again,’ asked a hearer, with 
evident impatience in his voice. The request I 
was complied with; thereupon followed the in¬ 
dignant comment: 
So the great overgrown Emperor of Roosia 
gave that infernal little bird-shooting, alligator- 
catching and rattlo-snake-ntuffi ng crazy fellow 
Audubon, a goold ring, did he ? Well!—upon 
my word it's just like the Emperors, though; 
plenty to throw away on fellows who Dover do°an 
honest day’s work in their lives, and nothing for 
the industrious poor man. Audubon is the kind 
they like. I ve seen him, loafing about my 
clearing for a month at a time, so Infernally lazy I 
that ho would sit all day under a tree, pretend- I 
ing to watch a bird as big ns my thumb build its 
nest; and what s more, he’d shoot humming¬ 
birds with ft rifle and let deer and turkeys (that’s ' 
game) pans unnoticed. I don’t- think liis picters 
was worth tho paper he made 'em on, nor was he 
worth the powder that would blow him up." 
And having thus relieved himself, he mounted 
his horse and rode away, muttering betweeu Ida 
teeth, *• Audubon with a gooid ring and dia- , 
monds “ The rural critic should not be blamed, J , 
for Audubon himself writes of thiB period of his 
life, that his best friends thought him insane, 
and that no one had a word of encouragement 
for him, except his devoted wife. 
As time wears on, whether Audubon will be . 
most honored for unwittingly contributing to ' 
science as an ornithologist, or for his intense 
worship of the world of natural objects, remains 
to bo solved. 
t that where he paid £200 in wages he now pays 
a £400, and the work is not so well done. Here is 
an advance of wages equal to £1 per acre rise of 
- rent, without any corresponding advantages_ 
i i ather tho reverse. Let us not forget, however, 
■ | that this rise of wages is not confined to agricul¬ 
ture, but is the same in all trades all over the 
: country. 
The demand for farm laborers in the populous 
districts is so great and continuous, that any 
attempt to materially reduce their wages would 
be followed by the loss of the men and their 
families. The farmer has little to hope for on 
the wages question. Now, sir, I think I might 
indicate a few of the sources to which agriculture 
must i urn for relief. In the first place landlords 
must give up ground game, and alter the system 
I of letting their farms. Why should a tenant 
grow crops to be eaten by his landlord's live 
stock ? Why should not a farmer do what he 
kkes with his crops when he has grown them? 
I think be shonld grow what he likes and do 
what he likes with it. If landlords are wise in 
their day and generation, they will seethe polioy 
of giving way in these two points. In the second 
place, I think landlords should oover in the fold- 
yards and rickyards, and do away with buildings 
which steam power has rendered useless. 
It would not cost much to pnt up a galvanized 
iron roof on wood or iron pillars, and any 
sensible tenant would willingly pay tho interest. 
Look at the wasted manure, the oost of rick 
sheets, thatching, injured corn, and Jobs of 
straw, time and labor, when most needed. In 
the third place, on all large estates one farm 
should bo laid out for steam cultivation, with 
one tenant with capital and energy to undertake 
it, and he might do work for the other tenants. 
The moderate Hized farm would got the heavy 
work done, and tho email sized farm have better 
oommaud of the labor market, and all would 
work harmoniously together. 
irinrfifir attii feful. 
BRONZING COPPER. 
Skflwitir tfje 
AGRICULTURAL DEPRESSION IN EN¬ 
GLAND. 
j Doubtless many of tho readers of tho Rural 
New-Yorker think that hard times and a general 
depression in agricultural pursuits are alone con¬ 
fined to the United States, but In this they cer¬ 
tainly err. for any great financial disturbance 
in one country is pretty certain to bo felt iu 
another, with which it holds commercial relations. 
Depression in trade or in agricultural pursuits iu 
America is felt sooner or later all over Europe, 
aud as an interesting view of the condition of 
agricultural affairs abroad wo copy seine extracts 
from a letter of a farmer to the Hereford Times 
| of England: 
j It is nonsense to assert that “ allowing one 
mauto occupy three orfour farms " iadetrimental 
to the interests or farming. The argument 
would apply with equal force against all large 
establishments, estates and kingdoms. The 
large farmers generally are the boat of farmers, 
grow tho largest crops, and are indispensable at 
the present day. What does it matter how 
mauy farms a man occupies, providing lie 
properly cultivates them? Further, where are I 
tho men to bo found to occupy small farms, and 
where is the capital to come from? Small 
farmers have years ago succumbed to the in- I 
evitable result of their position, and gone to be 
green-grocers and publicans in tho populous | 
districts. It is useless to point to France to 
prove tho benefits of small farms. I might with 
more reason point to the Western Continent to 
show the advantages of large farms. In this 
country both are necessary. English farming is 
not suffering from large or small farms, “hobby 
or hook farming," but from a concurrence of 
events not depending on seasons, or the sizes of 
farms, or any such matters. 
Agriculture has now for the first time iu its 
history come into direct and full contact with a 
host of difficulties, some of which the manu¬ 
facturing interest has already successfully dealt 
with; and no doubt the farming interest will 
ultimately right itself—how soon depends on 
landlords. The agriculture of this country is 
now face to face with the worlds produce_ 
steam powei, railways, trade unions, heavy local 
iates, higher wages than iu the past, education, 
the cheap press, and the rapidly growing intelli¬ 
gence of the age. Men are restlesB and un¬ 
settled. The newspapers not only circulate the 
news of the day, but the state of the labor mar¬ 
ket. and if men fail to get what they want in one 
district the railway will quickly convey them to 
another district. A friend of mine informs me 
The English Mechanic in speaking of this sub- 
. jeot says : 
The art of bronzing copper by the well-known 
method of heating it over a fire is a tedious and 
not altogether satisfactory process. It involves 
the exercise of some skill, and a considerable 
amount of labor must bo expended in the pre¬ 
liminary proeesses of cleansing and polishing; 
and very often tho whole operation has to be 
performed over again, owing to some awidontal 
blemish imparted to the surface of the article in 
I some subsequent process e. g., brazing or solder¬ 
ing. The polishing powders principally em¬ 
ployed are crocus and plumbago, the latter giv¬ 
ing a deeper and more permanent color to the 
finished article than the former, while shades 
between can be obtained by mixtures of the two 
| powders. There are several secret processes 
employed by the principal workers in the art, 
the substances used in which are kuown, but the 
exact methods are undescribed. Sulphide of 
potassium aud hydrosulphate of ammonia are 
both capable of imparting to the surface of clean 
copper an appearance of antique bronze. The 
solution is brushed to carefully and allowed to 
dry, the metal being previously heated to about 
70 deg. Fahr. 
A solution of verdigris and sal ammoniac in 
vinegar, diluted with water, boiled and filtered, 
is used as a sort of pickling hath for brass and 
copper articles it is desired to bronze. The bath 
munc be kept at the boiling point, and care must 
be taken, that the articles are removed as 
soon as the desired effect is produced. A 
bronze, said to be used by the Chinese, is made, 
liko the last of sal ammouiac and verdigris, with 
the addition of alum and vermilion (i. e!, the 
pure article prepared from merenrv and sub¬ 
limed sulphur). These ingredients, when re¬ 
duced to a powder, and made into a paste with 
vinegar, are spread over the surface of the ar¬ 
ticle to be bronzed, which is then placed in an 
oven, where it heats slowly but uniformly. 
When thoroughly warn, the paste is washed off 
in hot water, and tho article rapidly dried, with 
the assistance of hot box sawdust, a process of 
special value. If the bronzing is not of a suffi¬ 
ciently deep tone, the process is repeated imme¬ 
diately after the washing. The common bronz¬ 
ing solution for metallic statuettes is made by 
dissolving about 1 part of hinoxalate of potas¬ 
sium, and 3 of sal ammoniac in strong vinegar, 
or preferably, in vinegar made by adding pure 
acetic acid to distilled water. 
The articles to he bronzed are placed in a 
warm but moist chamber, aud are repeatedly 
painted over with the solution, a soft brush or 
mop being used for the purpose. In the ma¬ 
jority of the methods employed; the actual 
proportions of the ingredients are not stated, or 
when stated are not to bo relied upon, in every 
case a trial should be made on clean pieces of 
copper, and repeated at least once. As a rule, 
