•334 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER. 
three or four inches distant every way from plant to 
plant, such as lettuces of sorts, cauliflowers, endives, and 
cabbage plants of different kinds. All these things 
should be brought forward out in the clear open quar- 
i ters, so as to have good stocky healthy plants to finally 
plant out, or for planting in frames under walls or other 
places for winter protection. In preparing these nursery- 
beds, if the weather should be dry, always well water 
previously to planting, and again after planting : such 
work should be done in the afternoon. A little 
shading with a mat the next day, if the sun should be 
very powerful, is of great importance in this work; and 
about the third day go over the little nursery-beds with 
a pointed stick, or something of the kind, and open the 
earth: this gives new life to them; also remove any 
decayed leaves, &c. Sea-liale, asparagus, and rhubarb 
keep clear from weeds ; and remove decayed leaves, 
which are a great harbour for vermin. Onions, take up 
and dry off, previously to storing away. Any quantity 
of the August-sown may be transplanted into three or 
[September 1!). 
four feet wide beds, to stand the winter for early summer 
bulbs, that is to say, May and June, which will be found 
very useful should the stored crop run short. The beds 
should be lined out neatly, with just a few crumbs 
thrown up from the alleys, leaving the beds a little 
higher than the alleys, which will be all the better. 
The onions should be planted about seven inches from 
plant to plant every way, and if planted lengthways, by 
line, the beds will look neat and tidy through the winter 
and spring months. Seeds, of any kinds, collect as they 
become ripe ; let them be dried off well, and stored 
away in a dry situation. This is a good season for pot¬ 
ting off any quantity of parsley-roots for winter pro¬ 
tection, as the plants, by being potted now, will become 
well established before they need any protection at all. 
The stored away potatoes should be looked to, to see 
that there are no defaulters among them. Apply good 
soakings of manured water to Cape and other Brocolis 
now coming in for use; also to Cauliflowers the same. 
J. Barnes & T. Weaver. 
MISCELLANEOUS INFOBMATION. 
OUR VILLAGE WALKS. 
By the Authoress of“ My Floivers,” die., t be. 
What animation the face of the country now again dis¬ 
plays ! What a life and stir there is among the crops; and 
how the village seems deserted during the busy day! The 
whole population appears to go forth at the time of harvest: 
the parents to reap, and the little ones to glean. It is a 
beautiful sight, and can never lose its interest to an English 
eye. Although the sounds connected with it are not so 
joyous as those of the merry liay field, yet the sentiment it 
awakens is deeper, sweeter, and more thankful. The harvest 
is emphatically the provision of bread. The sweet household 
loaf of the British farmer, the crust of the honest, valuable 
labourer, and the delicate roll that is placed on the table of 
the palace, are all stored up in those rich, golden sheaves that ■ 
are heaped together in the stack-yard and the barn. Should 
not this give our corn-fields—our sun-burnt reapers—and all 
the busy operations of the farm, a powerful interest in our 
eyes ? Should they not raise our hearts, above all, to the 
“ Lord of the harvest,” to Him who satisfies “ the poor with 
bread ; ” without whose blessing the fields could not “ yield 
their increase ; ” without whose mercy no man could gather 
it in! 
I frequently return from a late evening walk through a 
stack-yard close to my own home; and occasionally during 
harvest time the important work proceeds long after the 
labouring horn. I have stood to enjoy the scene when a 
bright moon has been lighting the earth : the yard full of 
men, and horses, and waggons—the farmer on the rick, 
heading the operations,—all busy, but steady, and silent as 
the hour, and scarcely a sound heard but the rustling of the 
sheaves as they were thrown up, and the rumble of ap¬ 
proaching wheels with another load. Nothing could be more 
calm and beautiful than the dark blue sky, with its sparkling 
j stars and large resplendent moon—or more full of stirring 
I interest than the earthly scene beneath it. 
I am at this moment admiring a picture of autumnal 
beauty which few sights can exceed. As I glance through 
the window I see on the one hand a noble wheat-rick standing 
quietly upon the newly cleared stubble, all safe and -well; 
and near it stretches a sheepfold upon the rich after-grass, 
where the flock are banquetting. The tinkle of the sheep- 
bell sounds sweetly and peacefully; and all is still, while 
the shepherd is busily assisting in the harvest. In the 
distance, through the groups of trees, harvest fields every 
where appear, and for the next few days there will be little 
rest either for man or horse. 
On the other hand, there is an oat-field in full activity; the 
waggon loading—men and women busily at work—the fore- 
horse wuiting to be hooked on when the load is completed— 1 
and the empty waggon returning from the farm, and rattling 
lightly over the stony road. A little beyond, the eye catches 
a large portion of allotment ground, with its long strips of 
green and gold ; but this year the gold prevails. The donkey 
carts are all at work: the cottagers are as busy with their 
little harvest as the farmer with his fields and teams ; and 
it is a more interesting sight too, and comes home even 
more closely to our feelings. It is delightful to see and hear 
the contentment with which the poor man views his crops. 
Very seldom does a murmur escape his lips, even when the 
depredations of the mischievous rabbits rob him of half his 
gain ; but -when the Almighty Hand “ presses him sore ” his 
I patience and submission beneath the stroke teaches a whole¬ 
some lesson to his richer neighbour. 
I like to see the gleaners returning home in the evening, 
with their long trailing treasure, and the little children 
each with its tiny handful—all burnt brown, wearied, and 
sleepy; and I have been deeply distressed at the cruelty—I 
may say the ungodliness—of farmers, who actually raked the 
stubbles before the poor were permitted to begin. It hap¬ 
pened, I rejoice to say, but in one season, as far as I have 
ever heard; but then it was done in more instances than 
one ; and it seemed to me as if a judgment must fall upon 
the head of him who did it—for was it not robbing the poor ? 
The Lord himself has said, “ And when ye reap the harvest 
of your land, thou shalt not wholly reap the comers of thy 
field, neither shalt thou gather the gleanings of thy harvest.” 
Let the farmers ponder upon this; for who among the 
people of our land leaves the corners of his field for the 
poor ? 
The rapidly passing, but heavy showers of the last month 
have been continually beautified by rainbows. Sometimes a 
perfect arch appeared, sometimes only broken fragments, 
and sometimes a second bow of fainter hue appeared for an 
instant by the side of its companion. It is always a matter 
of surprise to me, ,that professing Christians—those who 
believe the Word of God and study it—should be so indif¬ 
ferent as they are to this most beautiful, most heart-affecting 
appearance in the sky. My own apathy astonishes and con¬ 
founds me. We know that the Eather of Spirits created all 
things—the glorious sun, the moon, the stars, the thunder¬ 
cloud, the darting lightning, are all made, sustained, im¬ 
pelled by Him, and all are “ good ” and beautiful; but in 
the bright resplendent bow there is a “ token ’’ that none 
other of God’s works possesses: “ I do set my bow in the 
cloud, and it shall be for a token of a covenant between me 
and the earth. And it shall come to pass, when I bring a 
I cloud over the earth, that the bow shall be seen in the cloud; 
