404 
THE COTTAGE GA.11DENER. 
March 17. 
the paat one. A very smooth-raked surface is here out 
of the (luestion, iicilhcr would it bo advisable, as au 
open surface will let iii the frost or drying winds, 
which do good prior to the seed vegetating, while 
there is a prospect of its becoming much closer before 
it does germinate by the causes above, as well as 
by rain. When the ground is obliged to be dug 
U2) very rough, and, to a certain extent, wet also, it 
cannot always be broken up so fine as even to allow 
the seed to be covered with anything like regularity. 
Where sucli is the case, it is better, therefore, to mark 
I out the line of the drill, and then scatter some fine, dry 
compost of an open friable nature, in which the seed 
can be sown with ease, and covered up with the same ; 
while the understratum, and, in fact, the whole ground, 
will derive all the benefit of the season, by being allowed 
to remain rather loose and hollow, to admit the air, &c.; 
and towards the beginning or middle of May, when it 
becomes sufficiently dry to bear treading on, and the 
rows of plants are visible, the intervening spaces between 
the rows ought to be stirred with a Canterbury hoc, or 
other tool, which will assist to consolidate the substra¬ 
tum by the fine matter running into it, while the 
top is receiving the benefit the admission of air extends 
to it. The thinning of the crop may also be proceeded 
with at the same time ; and, in fact, this earth-stirring 
process must be performed several times during the 
season, until the size of the tops will no longer allow it 
to be done without injuring them. 
I have not said anything of the kind most proper to 
grow, but most people prefer the Early Horn, for its 
good table qualities; but it certainly does not keep so 
well as the larger long sorts ; it would, therefore, be ad¬ 
visable to sow a portion of both. The AUrinyham is a 
good carrot, though not better than the Surrey, from 
which it ditlers in the smallness of its shoulder or crown. 
The Long Orange is sometimes sown; but when the 
Horn is grown, the eating qualities of the two presents 
so marked a difference as to lead to a conclusion that 
the Orange is no longer worth garden room; neverthe¬ 
less, it ought not to be despised, for it usually crops 
well, and that is important where this production is un¬ 
certain, as it often is in places where other crops pre¬ 
sent an appearance of luxuriance, as a proof of the 
ground being all that could be desired, while this is 
only indifi'erent. But if our remarks tend to enlighten 
the inexperienced in avoiding the evils noted above 
our purpose is served. J. Hobson. 
THE PINT O’ ALE. 
By the Authoress of “My Flowers," d'C. 
I AM now going to present my readers with a true picture 
of the good effects of sobriety, as shown in the conduct of 
R good wife. It has not passed under my own observation, 
but it is given in a very valuable and interesting lecture 
upon Popular Insurance, delivered before the Beclier 
Society at Stourbridge, by the Ilev. J. B. Owen, M A.; and 
I am so desirous of imiiressing the advantages of tem¬ 
perance, and the dreadful effects of drunkenness, upon all 
my readers, but more particularly those in humble life, that 
I shall copy the tale out word for word, and hope it may, by 
the blessing of God, touch and edify them. At the same 
time, I wish to lay great stress upon this point—viz., that 
for worldly reasons sobriety does nothing for the soul. If 
a man leaves off drink for a worldly reason, it does him 
good in a worldly way, and it does good to society in 
general; but unless he leaves off drinking because it is a 
sin—and sin is hateful in the sight of a pure and holy 
God—the man in no way glorifies God by turning from it. 
His soul is drunken with iniquity, although his hody is 
sober ; and “ what shall a man profit if he gain the whole 
world, and lose his own soul ? ” 
“ The writer heard a story in Manchester of a calico 
printer, who on his wedding-day was persuaded by his wife 
to allow her two half-pints of ale a day as her share. He 
rather winced under the bargain, for, though a drinker 
himself, he would have i)referred a iierfectly sober wile. 
They both worked hai’d, and he, poor man, was seldom out 
of the public-house as soon as the factory closed. The 
wife and husband seldom saw much of eacli other, excejit 
at breakfast; but as ghe kept things tidy about her, and 
made her stinted, and even selfish allowance for house¬ 
keeping, meet the demands upon her, he never complained. 
She had her daily pint, and he, 25erha2)s, had his two or 
three quarts, and neither interfered with the other, exce^it 
that at odd times she succeeded, by dint of one little artifice 
or another, to win him home an hour or two earlier at night, 
and now and then to spend an entire evening in his own 
house; but these were rare occasions. They had been 
married a yeai’, and on the morning of their wedding auni- 
vei’sary the husband looked askance at her neat and comely 
person with some shade of remorse, as lie observed, ‘ Mary, 
we’ve had no holiday since we were wed, and only that I 
haven’t a penny in the world, we’d take a jaunt to the village 
to see thee mother.’ ‘ Wouldst like to go, John? ’ said she 
softly, between a smile and a tear, to Jiear him speak so 
kindly—so like old times. ‘If thee'd like to go, John, I’ll 
stand treat.’ 
“ ‘ Thou stand treat,’ said he, with half a sneer; ‘ hast 
got a fortime, girl ? ’ 
“ ‘ Nay,’ said she, ‘but I’ve gotten the pint o’ ale.' 
“ ‘ Gotten what ? ’ said he. ‘ 'The pint o’ ale,’ said she. 
“John still did not understand her, till the faithful crea¬ 
ture reached down an old stocking from under a loose brick 
in the chimney, and counted out her daily pint of ale, in 
the shape of tiOh threepences, i. e., TI 11s. Jd., and put it 
into his hand, exclaiming, ‘ Thee shall have thee holiday, 
John.’ 
“John was ashamed, astonished, conscience-smitten, 
charmed, w'ouldn’t touch it. ‘Hasn’t thee bad thy share? 
then I’ll ha’ no more,’ he said. 'I’hey kept their wedding- 
day wdth mother, and the wife’s little capital was the nucleus 
(that means, anything round which other things gather) of 
a series of investments, that at last swelled into a shop, 
a factory, warehouses, country seat, a carriage, and, for 
aught I know', a Liverpool mayor.” 
See, my readers, what drink destroys, and what soberness 
builds up. Brink, above all, destroys the soul; and sober¬ 
ness, though it cannot save it, yet it keeps the senses clear, 
and does not hedge uj) our way with thorns, so that the 
truth cannot enter. 'The mind of the draukard is stujiid 
and besotted, and the “ still small voice ” cannot wake him 
up out of the sleep of death. 
I think my readers will be struck and confounded as much 
as John was by his wife’s stocking, if I copy out another 
passage from the same instructive lectui'e. Perhaps they 
do not know, and have never thought about what drink 
does in this Christian land. IMr. Owen goes on to say, 
“ Drink is the desolating demon of Great Britain. lYe have 
spent in intoxicating drinks during the present century as . 
much as would pay the national debt twice over! There 
are one hundred and eighty thousand gin drinkers in Lon- I 
don alone, and in that city three millions a year are spent j 
in gin ! In thirteen years, two hundred and forty-nine males, j 
and one hundred and eighty-three thousand nine hundred 
and twenty-one females, were taken into custody for being 
drunk and disorderly. In Manchester, not less than one [ 
million a year is spent in profligacy and crime. In Edin- i 
burgh there are one thousand whiskey shops ; one hundred ; 
and sixty in one street; and yet the city contains only two ' 
hundred bread shops! Of twenty-seven thousand cases of ! 
pauperism, twenty thousand of them were traceable to j 
drunkenness. In Glasgow', the poor rates are one hundred 
thousand pounds a year!’’ “ Ten thousand,” says Alison, 
“ get drunk every Saturday night, are drunk all day Sunday 
and Monday, and not able to return to work till 'Tuesday or 
Wednesday. Glasgow spends one million two hundred thou¬ 
sand pounds annually in drink; and twenty thousand females 
are taken into custody for being drunk.” “ As to the insanity , 
arising from drink,” the Bishop of London states, “ that of 
tw'elve hundred and seventy-one maniacs w'hose jtrevious : 
histories were investigated, six hundred and forty-nine, or , 
more than half of them, WTecked their reason in drinking. ' 
