April 3.] 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
MISCELLANEOUS INFORMATION. 
OUR VILLAGERS. 
By the Authoress of “My Flowers," &c. 
I am sorry to be obliged to confess, that one of the j 
neatest, cleanest, and quietest cottages I know, is that j 
belonging to a bachelor. It stands in a neat, snug garden, ' 
just behind the confines of our own grounds; and we 
sometimes turn down the little green lane that leads to it, ! 
on a summer’s evening, when John M-is returned from 
his day’s work, to look at his bees, or gather fruit from his ; 
abundant borders. The first flowers of spring seem to blow : 
soonest beneath the shelter of his thick hedges, the ; 
Maze re on puts forth her early bloom there, full to the ; 
south; and the little garden lays so warmly, sloping to the 
sun, and is so sheltered and secluded, that it seems as if 
the plants and fruit trees had nothing to do but to grow. ! 
A long row of bee hives stands under a close, sheltering 
hedge, and these seem to be the pride of John’s heart; he j 
watches and tends them as if they were children, and 
generally has an abundance of excellent honey to dispose of. 
All his ways are old-maidish and methodical; it is wonderful ! 
how soon that way comes on with single people. His little j 
cottage could not be cleaner if he possessed the best house¬ 
maid in the land; and on his return from work, he lights 
his fire, prepares his supper, looks after his household 
matters, and sits down to his lonely meal with as much 
order and propriety as if he had a family round him; nay, 
perhaps more so, because all his little tidy ways are 
undisturbed. 
We have gone in more than once when he has been 
taking his evening meal; and we could not help smiling at 
the scene. His cup and saucer, and knives, and plates, and 
table cloth were so clean! He was sitting so peacefully in 
his single blessed, or im-blessedness, the fried bacon looked 
so delicate, and smelt so good, and the loaf of home-baked 
bread seemed so sweet and wholesome, that we could not 
help saying when we came away, “ Certainly M- does 
seem the happiest and cleanest man in the neighbourhood.” 
Yes; he bakes his own bread, and makes it witli his own 
hand. He makes some common preserves too, when his 
fruit is plentiful; and I daresay he mends his own clothes, 
for he is very neat-handed, and looks better clothed than 
any of his neighbours, although he is but a day labourer. 
He rents a field, and cultivates it carefully, and never is he 
seen tipsy or idle. He is always busy doing something at 
his leisure hours, and his ready smile bespeaks contentment. 
Many a cottager may learn a useful lesson from John 
M-. 
My sister was once in trouble about a swarm of bees, 
which had left the hive when no efficient person was at 
hand, and she sent in a hurry for M -- to come and secure 
them. He came; and effected the operation neatly and 
cleverly, and with all his little old-maiclisms about him. 
He brought his own veil and his own gloves, and packed 
himself up for the undertaking, just like one who had no 
one else to take care of him, and had been used to look 
after himself all his life long. 
While youth and health remain this is all very well. It is 
amusing to observe the quiet contentment, and methodical 
ways of one who is not yet quite an old bachelor; but when 
ago and sickness arrive, as they will some day, I often think 
poor M- will feel a solitary, uncared-for being. Even 
now he has no higher object in life, than to make provision 
for his own wants. Hi; has no one to work for, no one to 
quicken his labours, no one whose future good he is anxious 
to secure. An old bachelor has no interest in life, all dies 
with him; and his latter days are generally passed as a 
lodger, in some cottage, without a creature to love and 
cherish him, and not even a fireside nook to call his own. 
The vision my fancy conjures up for poor M-’s latter 
days, is an asylum in the cottage of his dirty sister, Mrs. 
Martin, of whom I have already spoken. Martin’s garden, 
and that of John M-open into each other, and the two 
plots of ground are only less unlike one another, than are 
the brother and sister. I cannot imagine a more striking 
contrast than there is between all that belongs to these 
children of the same parents. Dirt and distress, clean 
liness and order, stand closely side by side; and do most 
strikingly set forth the beauty of the one, and deformity 
of the other. We pass through the empty, untidy, desolate 
garden of poor Martin, in which stands, here and there, a 
half-blighted, straggling apple tree, leaving behind us a 
cottage, whose aspect alone, is enough to send a man, who 
has no right principle in him, to the beer-house; and then 
a little wicket admits us to a bowery garden, in a sort of a 
gentle dell, full of all that a garden should contain; with a 
clean door way, and frontage to the cottage; no litter, no 
dirty pans and buckets, but everything in order; and the j 
little box-edged walks leading in different directions, in¬ 
viting a walk to the flower beds or tbe bees. 
M-once took in a man and his wife as lodgers, but 
that system, I fancy, did not work well, for John M- 
and Ms lodgers soon parted, and he has wisely maintained 
his own rights and privileges ever since. 
I am sorry to think that this quiet house-holder will, in 
time, grow old and dependant. It is all very well now; but 
he will, by and by, wish he had some one to care for him, 
and lead his feeble steps into sunny places, or play round | 
him, as he sits to enjoy the sweet ever-refreshing air. A 
steady, stirring wife, and well-taught children, would make 
him happier, and more useful to his country. He would be 
training up sons and daughters to till the soil, or fight for 1 
their country’s cause; and happiness is promised to him as 
the father of a family. 
But the blessing, the special blessing is reserved for the 
man “that feareth the Lord." His children only, are to lie 
as “ olive plants round about his table.” Let the labourer, 
‘the cottage gardener,’ and the ‘amateur’ too, remember 
this: Unless a man fears God, his children may be but 
blighted branches. To inherit the blessing, he must be 
qualified for it; therefore, to fear and love Him who created 
and redeemed us, is to be happy here as well as hereafter, 
to bring down a blessing upon our children, and our 
children’s children, and to “ see the peace upon Israel.” 
In this sense, the poorest man may be a benefactor to his 
country; and his prayers and example may do immeasurable 
good, far beyond the limits of his humble sphere. 
Promising children, and a happy home are good; but the 
favour and blessing of the Lord are better. 
WINTER TREATMENT OF BEE-HIVES—1850-1851. 
(Frosty and still weather, late, after dusk, or very early in 
the morning, is the best time for wintering bees ; but care | 
must be taken not to shake or knock the hive in the least 
degree. They would do no harm if buried even in October, ; 
but it would, perhaps, be well to defer it till after the icy 
season is over. It is recommended that, if possible, a 
thorough system of ventilation be adopted, whether by 
means of a tube, according to Dr. Bevan’s plan, or other¬ 
wise. In Mr. Richardson’s shilling book on bees, will be 1 
found mention of a very good plan, i. e., resting the hives on 
a long frame of wood, so elevated from the floor or stone as 
j that there may be a current of ah' underneath, and covered 
with plates of perforated zinc for the hives to stand on. Any ' 
number of hives of straw or wood might be ranged side by 
side on such a frame; the whole to be covered to some 
depth with leaves or cinders, the dust being removed as well 
as the smaller stones. This seems the best plan of all, but 
they would probably eat more than is desirable; therefore, 
it would be well to try every other practicable plan. If 
buried in the south, there should be no clay bottom, but a 
stony or gravelly substructure of some depth, whether arti¬ 
ficially formed or otherwise. Also the hives should be ) 
; thickly covered and tightly bound by a rope of straw. It is | 
; not recommended to use leaves, from their heating and rot- j 
