128 
THE COTTAGE GAEDENER. 
Novembeb 18. ' 
I 
liable to rciulei'ing a few more necessary to meet emer¬ 
gencies. This, however, must not ho carried into excess, 
1 have seen tlio fatal results of this—sickly seedlings, 
rising ig) as thick as small salading, become an easy 
]iroy to the various enemies they have to encounter in 
their untoward growth. In sowing in wet weather, or 
when the ground is very wet, it is very good practice to 
sow the rcpcctivc rows as the ground is being dug; and 
if they are sown a little deeper than usual it is all the 
better, and the seed being covered with coal ashes is 
some protection from the onemios they will hereafter meet 
with, a little soil being added likewise, which, moreover, 
is often covered with a mixture of soot and ashes when 
the plants make their appearance—this is to make them 
more distasteful to the enemies preying upon them. Rows 
al)Out thrce-feet-and-half apart are at a distance sufficient 
for the first crop, which ought not to consist of any tall- 
growing kind, unless strongly recommended by some one 
who has had experience in its growth. Eor my part, I 
prefer those having the habit, &c., of the old J^arlif 
Fnivie, as being the best for winter; this useful old sort 
is evidently the parent of the inany kinds now before the 
world. The last few years 1 have found Warner's Earhj 
J'Jrnjieror the earliest of any that 1 have sown, and 1 
generally sow some three or four sorts at a time, to test 
their qualities that way. Ishcricood's Railway 1 have 
heard spoken favourably of, but have not tried it; but 
the Racehorse, Warwick, and Prince Albert, arc all 
behind the Emyeror. One thing is to have the seed 
genuine to its kind; if one-half the kinds we have arc 
taken out of a bag of “ Charltons,” which, it is feared, 
is too often the case, we may look in vain for that dill'er- 
enco in growth, &c., which constitutes a separate variety. 
Observe, that in my attacking the dealer in seeds,! am 
dealing a blow likewise at those whoso rage for novelty 
or variety prompt them to such a course. What occasion 
has any one for a do/.cu kinds of peas? A good early 
sort, followed by one or two good bearing ones, which 
had better be of the blue or green varieties, as they are 
more esteemed at table in a general way, is quite suffi¬ 
cient. Now, in making the above remarks on peas to 
stand the winter, 1 am ))crfcctly sensible that in some 
very cold and exposed situations, the injuries they are 
liable to, from the elements and other sources, render 
it a more safe course to sow some in pots, boxes, or ] 
other contrivances, in heat, in Eebruary, to plant out | 
when the weather admits it. Rut in ,all cases where a ' 
well-sheltered dry border is at liberty, in a latitude any- ' 
where south of the Humber, it is advisable to sow a ! 
good breadtb at once. In dry situations, in Kent and | 
other counties bordering London, whole lields are sown 
at this period to j)ick for the market of that great 
metropolis. 
In conclusion, I may add, that a few Beans may also 
bo sown at the same time, and under circumstances 
similar to the above. The Lonyywd or Ilanydown is 
more esteemed than the Mazayan —though, perhaps, 
scarcely so hardy or early. ’ J. Robson. 
“I WANT EOR NOTHING.” 
By llu! J tUhorcss of “ My Flowers," dc. 
Onk of the most interesting cases of cheerful and happy 
altliction that I ever winiessed became known to mo a veiy 
short lime ago, and J wish 1 could Inin,sport some of my 
readers to the “ cottage of content,” that they might learn 
a lesson of thankfulness for tlic lighter trials tlioy may liavo 
to bear, and, at the same time, see what may be done under 
very adverse circumstances when the heart is right with 
O (id. 
I was walking a few days ago through part of another 
parish, when I mot a respectablydressed young ■woman, 
with a walking-stick in her hand. 1 was jiassing on without 
taking any lailher notice, when she stopped me by saying, 
“If you please, can you tell me whether 1 have passed 
Mr. Wallis’s gate?” 1 replied, that 1 did not know wlm 
lived in the cottage we were standing near, but that she had 
passed the gate some little distance; “but,” I added, struck 
by a sudden idea, “are you blind?” “Yes, ma’am,” she 
said, “ quite blind.” 
There is something that touches the hardest, stoniest 
heart on seeing a person who is blind. Helpless ; cut olF 
from so many enjoyments of life; dependant on others for 
everything; defenceless, and exposed to a thousand perils, 
the blind are endowed with an interest in the eyes of man 
that is their strong protection. Ho who dimned their sight, 
gave them another boon in place of it; and when Ho wills, 
who can resist the power? On (picstioning this poor blind 
woman, 1 found she lived but a little way from v. liere 1 met 
her. She said she knew the roads just about her homo so 
well, tliat she could venture short distances alone, “ and 1 
alway.s lind one or another, ma'am, to help me along when 
I want to go farther ; every body is very kind to me.” She 
had, oil this occasion, met “ One ” to help her, for, liad she 
gone a little farther, she would have come to a jilank thrown 
across a stream, which might have caused a fall. But it 
was ordered otherwise, and I took her safely home. On ■ 
entering the cottage, a boy about six years old, or, perhaps, . 
more, was seated on a low bench in the corner of an old- : 
fashioned, wide chimney. The poor child was swelled in a 
most distressing manner with dropsy; and his mother told ; 
me the “doctors” had done all they could, but he was no 
better; he had been so for years, and she believed he would ■ 
never get well. Ho sat all day long just as I saw him, his | 
eyes lixed on the ground, seldom moving, never complain- [ 
ing, and not often siieaking at all. "While 1 was jnlying ; 
this poor alilicted child, another bright-eyed creature, 
younger still, came in with an elder girl. This animated 
child was deaf and dumb! It was scarcely possible to 
conceive anything more affecting than this cottage scene! 
The mother blind; the child almost helidess from bad I 
health; another deaf and dumh ! But the mother was so ' 
cheerful and contented! so rich in faith ! so full id' peace 
and joy, and spiritual consolations, that she seemed, indeed, | 
to bo dwelling in a “house not made with hands,” and to be I 
fed with meat which the world knows not of. She gave me ; 
a sketch of her little history, blessing God contiuuallj', as | 
she proceeded, for His abundant mercy to her and hers, j 
Slie is the mother of eight children, five of whom are living j 
at liomc. Of those, one boy “keeps himsidf;” another ! 
earns eighteenpeuco a-week; and the elder girl receives a j 
loaf and a shilling from the parish, to wait iqwn her lielpless I 
mother and little brotlier and sister. The father is a steady, i 
sober man, who has worked twenty-seven years for I lie | 
same farmer, and earns seven shillings a-week, one of which j 
is kept back for rent. 'J'hey all live upon bread, with a I 
scrape of lard upon it, and sometimes, but very seldom, a | 
morsel of butter. Now and then they can buy a “bit of | 
tea,” or colFeo, which is the cheapest, and an ounce of coffee | 
lasts them, she said, “a great man}'times!” 'With quiet, 
beautiful thankfulness, the blind w'oman said they wanted I 
for nothing ; sometimes they went without a meal; but she 
had never hem in debt! What they could not pay for they 
never got; her children never asked for anything more 
than their motlier gave, not even the sick one, “ and, bless : 
the Lord,” she added, “ wliat a mercy that is to me!” The 
most affecting circumstance of all, is the fact, that the little ] 
dumb girl generally leads her mother about! “But,” 1 i 
said, “you ai’O blind, and she is deaf and dumb, liow do i 
you ever understand each other ?” “When 1 want to go to 
the shop, ma’am, I talio down the basket, and she knows 
the meaning, and then brings me safe homo again.” (tan 
any one of my readers imagine a more touching sight than 
a blind mother led by a little deaf and dumb child? If 
they can even read this poor description of it without a 
throbbing of the heart, they must bo less than buman 
beings! 
This poor blind creature has lost her sight about two 
years; but such is her deep, unaffected piety, that she 
appears as accustomed to lier iiainful aflliction as if she had 
never known what it was to see. It is wonderful what 
religion does for us; I mean religion of the heart, not that 
wdiich the world understands. It is one thing to talk; 
another thing to act; and another thing still to suffer joy- 
I 
