396 
THE CULTIVATOR. 
Dec. 
engine to any desired place. Every machine that can 
save labor is employed, and special manures are used 
without stint. 
This experiment proves what one scientific man with 
an immense fortune at his disposal can do. But does the 
Tribune suppose that this is to be the standard for all 
English or American farmers in future ? It is very well 
for Mr. Meechi to say that, with all his outlay, his farm 
pays him fair interest in the increase of crops and im¬ 
provement of the soil, hut all farmers have not the means 
to carry on business on such a scale, the prudence to 
manage it, or such market as to justify a like expendi¬ 
ture. We doubt whether a half-dozen farmers in Eng¬ 
land will repeat the experiments Mr. Meechi has made. 
The impracticability of carrying theories into execution 
has blasted many a plausible scheme. 
The Tribune speaks as if it supposed that the applica¬ 
tion of machinery to agriculture was a new thing. Im¬ 
plements and machines have been steadily improving for 
the last thirty years, and more has been done in the last 
ten years than in the previous half century. We do 
not, however, consider it of so much importance that 
steam engines be introduced, as that farmers themselves 
improve. We are now probably a quarter of a century 
in advance of England in the use of improved farm im¬ 
plements and labor-saving machines, while England may 
he as much in advance of us in the thorough culture of 
the soil in some of her best districts. Not one farmer in 
ten avails himself of all the improvements in his reach 
for the cultivation of his soil. And so it is with our 
mechanics. A majority of them are mere “ hewers of 
wood and drawers of water,” while a few keep up or are 
in advacce of the age, and give tone and character to 
their employment. 
Harvesting machines, revolving horse rakes, and im¬ 
proved plows, are great aids in farm labor, and their use 
has brought about a marked change in the last ten years. 
Harvesters will be confined mostly to the grain-growing 
regions of the south and west, while in New-England the 
grain cradle will be chiefly used. The sickle is still used 
extensively in Great Britain, and we doubt whether a 
Yankee grain cradle was known in England until exhibited 
there at the World’s Fair. 
Improvement is the watch-word of the times, and if 
we do not answer readily to its call, we must be left be¬ 
hind. L. Durand. Derby, Ct., Oct. 14, 1852. 
Poverty and Procrastination. 
Cold weather is coming in good earnest . Sheep huddle 
together in some corner ; cattle seek protection from 
the wind by standing close to the side of the barn; poul¬ 
try are standing on one leg under the shelter of some 
equally defenceless cart; pigs gather about the kitchen 
door in sullen silence. I am too poor to provide conve¬ 
niences for my stock, exclaims the sluggish farmer, they 
must wait another year. 
It is a chilling autumn night. The hollow wind sighs 
mournfully as it sweeps the bare branches of the trees, 
and pierces with a shrill whistle the crevices of the 
sluggard’s house, making him draw nearer to the half 
smothered fire, which flickers on the hearth. I am too 
poor to repair my house and prepare dry wood, sighs the 
shivering man; Iwill try to do it another year. 
The wood-shed has yielded up its last stick of decayed 
fuel, and the yard has been gleaned of its last basket of 
chips, belonging properly to the manure heap. The far¬ 
mer has yoked his unwilling cattle, and is about to repair 
to his wood-lot for a load of dry limbs and fallen trees, 
but meets with an unexpected hindrance to his benevo¬ 
lent intentions. The sled which experienced much hard 
usage the preceding season, and has been watered by all 
the summer’s rain and chilled by the autumn frosts 
snaps its tongue with the first pull of the cattle—“ Hang 
my luck,” ejaculates the ill-starred man. “ Was ever 
one so unfortunate,” echoes the wife as she thinks of the 
smouldering fire and the half-cooked dinner that is to 
be. The vexed sufferer solaces himself, however, with 
the idea that poverty is the basis of his misfortunes, and 
that when he shall have grown rich in spite of such 
ruinous losses, he shall put everything to rights. 
Thanksgiving, with its good cheer, has passed, and the 
district school is to commence on Monday. The chil- 
dren have been living in the prospective for some days, 
and not a few plans for fun, or perhaps improvement, 
have been matured. The farmer’s son, a thoughtful, 
bright-eyed boy, who has driven the cows to pasture the 
live-long summer, presided over the luncheon and the 
jug of drink, picked up the potatoes, and been the 
man of all work, asks of his father a favor, which he 
thinks is richly deserved—two new books for the winter’s 
school. He tells his father how the other boys of his 
class are to have them, how he shall fall behind them 
wtithout this assistance—how he will study, and work 
harder next summer if he can have them, and that 
they will cost only one dollar. But his imploring looks 
and earnest language avail nothing with the father. He 
says not an encouraging word, but simply mutters—“ I 
did’nt have books—I am too poor to buy them; you 
must wait another year.” 
An agent for an Agricultural Journal, seeing the for- 
lorn appearance of the premises, and thinking ignorance 
must have caused such bad management, presents his 
paper, asking for his name and four shillings. u O ! it’s 
no use,” exclaims the farmer—“ I don’t believe in book 
farming; I am too poor, you must wait another year.” 
So year after year the poverty-stricken and procrasti¬ 
nating farmer drags on, lamenting the fortune which his 
own negligence renders inevitable, making his family 
equally miserable with himself, by denying them the 
means of improvement—too ignorant and too poor to grow 
wiser or richer. Almost as easily may the leopard change 
its spots or the ethiopian his skin, as a man be induced 
to change his course of life, and we have reason to be¬ 
lieve that this unfortunate man will to his dying day, 
consider himself the victim of untoward circumstances, 
the son of misfortune, and the sport of destiny, instead 
of seeking in his own improvidence the cause of his bad 
luck. 
Good and Bad Farms.—A ten acre field, eosting 
fifty dollars per acre, and ditched, manured and improv¬ 
ed, at fifty dollars more, so as to give double crops, is 
much more valuable and profitable than twenty acres 
unimproved, costing the same money. 
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