471 
fH£ RURAL NEW-YORKER 
JULY 41 
average; condition good. Strawberries, area 
small; condition extra. Garden vegetables 
very good. Orchard fruits poor, cause late 
frost. G. T. 
Woodstock. N. B.— Hay, oats, potatoes, 
our principal crops, are largely exported to 
Boston. Wheat, corn, rye. roots aud barley 
grown only to a limited extent; barley largely 
ou the increase. Grass this Spring poor; the 
roots weakened by cold during absence of 
snow aud by a sheet of about four inches of 
ice; yet we will have a large surplus to ex¬ 
port. Potatoes not so many planted as last 
season,as late prices were low. Oats the usual 
breadth sown; it never varies much. Apples 
are largely grown here, and plums; crops of 
both will be larger this season. F. P. S. 
farm Cjcrtutouj. 
DOES GRAZING IMPOVERISH THE 
LAND! 
PROF. I. P. ROBERTS. 
A correspondent asks, “Will pasture laud 
if not grazed so closed as to injure the grass, 
tend to become more fertile or more sterile 
from year to year by being in pasture? 
In order to eliminate fractions, we will sup¬ 
pose that five cows giving 15,000 pounds of 
milk, are grazed for six months on 10 acres of 
laud. There would be carried off in the milk, 
in rouud numbers, 100 pounds of mineral 
matter, So pounds of which would be phos¬ 
phoric acid aud 32 pounds potash. The milk 
would also remove some 75 pounds of nitro¬ 
gen. It is estimated that from eight to ten 
pounds of nitrogen per acre are deposited in 
the soil by the rain fall. The pasture would 
gain in its store of nitrogen were it not for 
the fact that it is constantly leaching out very 
rapidly in sandy and, to some extent, in 
clayey soils. It would be impossible to tell, 
except by analyses of the soil at long periods, 
whether the store of nitrogen'was increasing 
or diminishing. In the 10 acres there is a 
certain amount of mineral matter, and if we 
remove 100 pounds yearly the supply must 
constantly diminish. 
Good land contains, in the first 18 inches of 
soil, from 10,000 to 20,000 pounds of phos¬ 
phoric acid per acre and frequently twice as 
much potash. Poor land may contain less 
than a third of the above named amounts. 
Only a small portion of this plant food is 
available in any one year; that is, it is not in 
such a condition as to be soluble in soil water, 
aud hence the plant cannot use it. Some soils 
have such an abundance of plant food stored 
up, which becomes easily soluble from year to 
year, that the grass is sustained without any 
perceptible diminution in quantity or quality. 
If growing animals are pastured, exhaustion 
would go on more slowly. If mature auimals 
were being grazed for beef no perceptible ex¬ 
haustion would occur. 
Cornell University, Ithaca, N. Y. 
A PROFITABLE COW. 
The Ormiston Bros,, of Livingston Co., 
N. Y., have an Ayrshire cow, five years old, 
weighing 875 pounds, which was fed ha}' and 
grains.all of which were weighed, for 30 days. 
Without previous preparation, she ate in the 
30 days f>;10 pounds of hay and 210 pounds of 
ground feed, consisting of 120 pounds of 
ground oats, 60 pounds of corn meal and 60 
pounds of wheat middlings. Her daily ration 
was 21 pounds of hay, worth IS per ton, and 
eight pounds of the ground feed, worth $20 
per ion, making total cost of feed 10 cents per 
day. She gave of milk in the 30 days, 1174^ 
pounds. The fii'st seven days she gave 224 
pounds, and the last seven 278J^ pounds,show¬ 
ing she was increasing. The average of milk 
per day was 30 pounds two ounces. She 
made 61 pounds five aud three-sevenths 
ounces of butter. In other words, she ate 29 
pounds of food, costing 16 cents; gave 30 
pouuds two ounces of milk, which made over 
two pcuinda of butter—so that the butter cost 
less than eight cents per pound. Such cows 
pay a good profit on what they eat, and that 
is the kind to keep. May their tribe in¬ 
crease ! 
Lit null}. 
BOOKS AND MAGAZINES. 
The First Six Books of the JEneid, with 
Explanatory Notks. By Edward Lear- 
iug, A.M. The Bucolicb and Georgius, 
with Explanatory Notkb. By Henry 
Clark Johnson, A.M., LL.B., together with 
a Complete Vocabulary and an Appendix, 
containing Dr, S. H. Taylor's Questions on 
Virgil, and a Metrical Index. A. S. Barnes 
& Co., publishers, New York. Price $2.00. 
This work, the author tells us in his preface, 
“Is the outcome of much inquiry, among the 
most distinguished and classical teachers in 
the country, whose opinion was that such a 
work, as this, was needed. It is that jjortiou 
of Virgil which is generally read, aud is ac¬ 
companied by a properly constructed lexicon, 
also by a map.” The title page, with what 
we quote from tho author’s preface, describes 
tbe book well, but we will add that it is a 
work which should be in the bauds of every 
student. 
The Vooalist. By James E. Ryan. A. S. 
Barnes K: Co., publishers, New York. Price 
40 cents. 
This work contains good selections from 
eminent composers, also a brief exposition of 
the system of instruction employed in the 
schools of Brooklyn, N. Y. 
Harper’s Magazine for J uly opens with an 
article by F. Marion Crawford, ou the 
“Mohammedans of India,” A fine poem by 
FrancesL, Mace, “Midsummer on Ml. Desert.” 
“A Day’s Drive with MintauaCow Boys.” R. 
F. Zogbaum; “The City of Buffalo,” JaueM. 
Welch; “Ampersand, an Adirondack Sketch,” 
Dr. Henry J. Van Dyke Jr.; “A Silk Dress,” 
the second paper in the series of "Great 
American Industries;” are a portion of the 
contents of this unusually strong number. 
The Century has for a frontispiece the 
portrait of Frederic Mistral, and further on 
is a sketch of him by Alphonse Daudet. 
“George Eliot’s County,” by Rose G. Kings¬ 
ley, is a fiuely written article, and beautifully 
illustrated. “The Rise of Silas Lapbarn,” 
Chap. 9; “Social Life in the Colonies,” Ed¬ 
ward Eggleston; “The Bostonians,” Henry 
James, Chap. 4; “McClelland’s Change of 
Base,” Gen. I). H. Hill; “Rear Guard Fight¬ 
ing at Savage’s Station,” Gen. W. B. Frank¬ 
lin; “The Seven Days’ Fight about Rich¬ 
mond,” Gen. JamesLongstreet; “Memoranda 
ou the Civil War;” Topics of the Time; 
Opeu Letters, etc., etc., combiue to make a 
magaziue full of solid and interesting reading 
matter. 
St. Nicholas comes with its full treasure 
of good reading, clear engraviugs and pleas¬ 
ing poetry for little folks. The frontispiece 
is called the “PetFawn.” “A School of Long 
Ago,” Edward Eggleston; “Oh! Dear,” 
Laura E. Richards; “Our Secret Society,” 
Maria W. Jones; “Driven back to Eden,” E. 
P. Roe, Chap. 6; “His One Fault,” J. T. Trow¬ 
bridge, Chaps. 22, 23, 24; with the usual Ed¬ 
itorial Notes, The Letter Box, Agassiz Asso¬ 
ciation, The Riddle Box, Cartoons for Child¬ 
ren. 
for lUownu 
CONDUCTED BY MlSf. RAY CLARK. 
A SEASIDE IDYL. 
Where the summer breezes mingle 
Perfumes with the laden Mr, 
And t he honeysuckle blossoms 
Spread their fragrance everywhere: 
Just within the broad veranda, 
(n a shady, cool retreat. 
Lay our hero, Dick, reclining, 
Knniiied, o’crcome with heat. 
Hark! a step upon the carpet. 
“Coming here. By Jove, It's Lu! 
Unppy thought! I'll feign u slumber, 
Just to see what, she will do.” 
And his eyelids then descended 
o'er his InughDig hazel eyes, 
And with blissful expectation 
There he waited tor tbe prize. 
Nearer, nearer earn© the footsteps, 
Lightly as a fairy’s tend, 
While wlthlu his wicked ambush 
Richard watted for the end. 
Softly they approached the sofa. 
Surely he It is they seek: 
And, surprised and loved he felt a 
Timid kiss upon his cheek! 
Thrilled with foud Imagination, 
Up ho sprang with ardor then, 
And with love's own burning passion 
Clasped—his faithful pointer Ben! 
Clasped him with delicious triumph. 
Pressed him fondly to Ids breast, 
Then with madness gazed upon him,— 
Well, we will omit the rest! 
geo. w. I1ILLS. 
-»-•-*- 
MUS1NGS OF A QUIET LIFE. 
ZEA MAYS. 
NO. VIII. 
I have come forth into the woods this 
morning with my little boy and girl. It is 
the first time I have done so this Summer. 
The sunshine is very hoc without, but it is 
cool here, 1 am seated upon the side of a 
steep bill. Around me is a kind of wiry 
grass. Wild gerauium and phlox are in 
bloom upoD the hillside. Below, down, down, 
the ferns grow thickly. Above, the oaks and 
hickories wave their Juite-greou leaves. But¬ 
terflies flit here and there. The birds talk, 
but do uot sing much. We have filled a cup 
with wood mold to carry borne. Jenny bus 
caught a gray butterfly with spots like eyes 
upon its wings and feathers on its forehead. 
Reclining, 1 look up into the tree tops. By 
the quaking of its leaves, I have found a tall 
4 poplar. The white bark toward its branches, 
had I noticed, might have betrayed it. A 
bumble bee comes np buzzing, as if asking 
what I am doing here. 
It looks somewhat cloudy, aud I bethink me 
of a certain hill-top I would like to visit in a 
cloudy time. 
Wordsworth says: 
“One Impulse from a vernal wood 
May teach you more of man, 
Of moral evil, and of good. 
Than all the sages can.” 
I do not know whether I have received the 
“impulse” or not; perhaps it will come by- 
aud by. I pass down tbe bill, out of the 
forest, into a partly plowed Held, where a 
thousand peach trees were set last year. Near 
me is a Held of wheat. It is newly cleared land, 
and there are some ferns growing with the 
wheat. In some places the wheat looks short 
and thin, in others rank aud dark. 1 would 
like to know what combination of circum¬ 
stances have produced those thrifty spots. If 
only a whole field could grow sol I have 
toiled a weary way to reach this hill top, 
nearly five hundred feet, I am told, above the 
river. But the panorama spread out before 
and around me is worth a journey to see. 
Facing the east, below me waves wheat, be 
youd lie woods and a water-course where 
bushes grow, green grass, young oats and 
more wheat. The boundary line of oats and 
wheat is a long, dark line. Beyond, the hills 
rise,aud I sitou a hill top facing an amphithea¬ 
ter, vast and beautiful. For three-quarters 
of a circle the range of hills lies around me; 
coming near me at the right, further off at 
the left, and iu front stretching away into the 
blue distance. The river runs through the 
valley below at the left, and the railroad, but 
they are hidden from ray view. On the hills 
across the river the fields lie in Sabbath still¬ 
ness. There are plowed lands and wheat 
fields aud farm buildings peeping out here 
and there. Beyond the narrow field 1 spoke of 
in front, where the grass and the oats and the 
wheat grow, is a field of young peach trees, 
thousands of them, and a newly set raspberry 
field, aud the tops of the youug trees look like 
green dots over the surface of the plowed field 
As 1 turn to the right, there are great peach 
orchards of bearing age, and berry patches, 
an i vineyards and gardens. A very narrow 
valley lies below me to the south, aud a hill 
slope, and I know that strawberries have be- 
guu to ripeu there, and raspberries promise 
fruit. Away in front, two miles or there¬ 
abouts, lies a mill pond, beautiful though uot 
large. If it were only a lake five miles long! I 
do not think a landscape quite complete with¬ 
out water. lean fully sympathize with that 
English essayist who said: "You may laugh 
as you please, but life seems somewhat 
insupportable to me without a pond—a 
squarish pond, not over clear.” 
1 can also sympathize in part with poor Mrs. 
Greeley, whose three requisites for a country 
home were “a peerless spring of soft, liviug 
water, a cascade or brawling brook, aud woods 
composed largely of evergreens.” Horace, 
good mau, found them for her at Oliappaqua. 
If that dry water-course below me were 
only a perpetual stream instead of an oc¬ 
casional torrent, it would greatly please me. 
When wo were thiuking of changing our 
residence, I asked my little boy if he would 
like to go. “ Will there be flowers there?” he 
asked, “and apples too?” My little girl wanted 
a swing tree, apples and flowers; uud these all 
grow ou the new farm. The tree is the tri- 
walnut. 
FLOWERS. 
If the Rural Treasures have been properly 
sown and taken care of aud the perennials 
looked after, our door yards will be a verit¬ 
able earthly paradise. Each flower aud shrub 
will be in a sense an object of our own crea¬ 
tion, in which we can properly take a direct 
personal interest. Flowers alone of all cre¬ 
ated things seem given to minister to our 
aesthetic andjonr spiritual life, “They wako 
into being, they unfold their soft petals, they 
put on tho loveliness of perfected bloom, they 
gather up in their bosoms the dew of ti few 
slimmer nights, the sunshine of a few summer 
days, and then the wind that so lately rocked 
them to and fro, scatters their leaves over the 
earth—they are gone forever ” Flowers 
have kindred association with all that is best 
within us. They Interpret uud are sacred to 
our affections. We make them gifts to those 
we love—who wear them for the givers’ sake 
—and plant them above tbeir graves. 
Hawthorne says: “ Affection and sympathy 
for flowers is almost exclusively a woman’s 
trait. Men, if endowed with it by nature, 
soon lose, forget or learn to despise it, in their 
contact with coarser things than flowers.’’ 
This contact with “the coarser things of life” 
so far debases our minds, and the duties and 
cares of our commonplace every day existence 
so exhaust us physically, as to leave little in¬ 
clination or strength for anything beyond the 
line of absolute necessity. This is, perhaps, 
more true of men than it is of women. The 
love of the beautiful for its own sake,however, 
is not limited to either sex. Who has not 
seen the careworn face of the father light up 
with a strange but happy expression as he 
sees the simple bunch of flowers on the supper 
table ? Its fragrance fills the room and helps 
us to think of the higher life. It is not alone 
because the flowers make the room fragrant 
or more beautiful, but because they are an in¬ 
dication of love—a sacrifice it may be—upon 
the altar of parental affection. 
A rough laborer, whose hands bad toiled to 
weariness all day, and whose lips had not been 
slow to give back the coarse epithet to his 
fellows, stops in his homeward walk, lays 
down his heavy implements, to pluck a few 
wayside roses and violets, to make glad a 
pale, sickly face, that ho remembered was ly¬ 
ing in a little crib. A light breaks into his 
humhle life. It is not the beauty or the fra¬ 
grance of the flowers, but the spirit of love, 
which the poor sick child recognizes and which 
brings the angelic smile to its lips. 
Flowers havo no great value in a utilitarian 
sense but they brighten and ennoble life. 
They are a revelation of God's love to man, 
or rat her to his creatures, for who shall say that 
other creatures beside the Genus homo do not 
appreciate and love flowers* They do not 
contribute to man’s necessities but they lift 
him into a higher life, a closer communion 
with Him who created them. What signifi¬ 
cance for us has the bouquet which was plucked 
by loviug bands for the bride; and not less so 
that which was gathered for tho purpose of 
being laid upon the cofliu of a loved one. 
What memories are awakened by the faded 
flowers, which were carefully put away in our 
most sacred receptacle—of little hands which 
will never again pluck the flowers of earth; 
of the joyous marriage day; or of the solemn 
time when they were designed as a last tribute 
to our mother, sister, or child. 
‘ Sweet flowers alone can say 
Wliut puss loti fears revealing, 
A once Origin rose's wither'd leaf, 
A towerlug Uly broken. 
Oh, these may paint a grief 
No words could e'er liuvo spoken.” 
Flowers are and ought to besesthetio. When 
we go to a greenhouse and order cuttings or a 
bouquet, there is a commercial element intro¬ 
duced, which degrades tbe most beautiful 
llowei s to the level of the commonplace. There 
is more sentimental beauty in an humble 
bouquet raised aud arranged by loving bands 
than iu the most elaltorate bouquet made to 
order by a professional florist. 
Do we appreciate and interpret tbe mission 
of flowers arightf Do we look upon them as 
evidence of God’s love—as a revelation from 
Him, teaching us of a higher, a more spirit- 
gfti0cfUatw0tt0 §Uvnti£injj. 
“ Like as it were a 
moth that fretteth the 
garment,” so will the 
free alkali, to which 
many powerful soaps 
owe their strength 
destroy your clothing. 
Professor Silliman, of 
Yale Coll ege, says, 
“ The Ivory Soap is 
of remarkable purity 
.as a laundry 
soap it has no su¬ 
perior.” 
Free of charge. A full size oak© of Ivory Soap 
will be sent to any one who can not get it of their 
grocer, l( six two-ceut stamps, to pay postage, are 
sent to Procter &. Gamble, Cincinnati. Please 
mention this paper. 
