UMASS/AMHERST 312066 0308 1419 2 FIVE COLLEGE DEPOSITORY □□□DDaoaDDDaDDDD°°' ,aDDDDDDaDD°°°8 D D n D D a D D a D D D D D D D O D D a a D D D D D D a D D D a a D a D D n D D D n D D D D D D D D D D D D D a a o o a a o n □ D a UNIVERSITY OF MASSACHUSETTS LIBRARY SPEOAL COLtECmOMS ft ARCHIVES D D D D D D D D O D n n a o n D a D D D D a D D D D n D D D D D D D D a D D a D D DDDDQI aaaoaaaaaoaana aaaaaaaaaaoaa mm u •.\ 1^" THi^ yi 20ABi> OF ff /AiBfeuiTOREA INTENDED TO PROMOTE f.!TATE sous: THE INTEREST OF THE FARMER: TO DEFEND THE DIGNITY OF THE AGKICULTUMAL PROFESSION, AND ENCOURAGE THE CI MI. COJiDV! TKU BV ISAAC HiLL. VOLUME v.. FOR 1843. i^£>o CONCORD, N. H. I> BY ISAAC HILL, & SONS. 1843^" H ^ S'-4 INDEX TO THE FARMER'S MONTHLY VISITOR FOR VOL. V., 1843. A. Apple in Al:ibnina, 1 AnimriU. cue of, M' Anti-ju irisn, to tlie, *I Aiircra Boipalis, remnrks on, 55 Agricullur.il sl.iiistics, ^'■^ Amitrur thrilling, *J3 Aunt Tolly's rido. 01 Agriculture, essay on, 91, 1^6 A';in:n!s, impr(»veiucnt of, lO'i A^iricuUural aphorisms, 131) Appips. presrrvalion oC, lf'5 Air liyiit stove, Vio Agriruhiire, important facts in, 179 Agriculture and Horticulture, wonderful results of, ISO American union, states of, 183 B. Br:lTi;in Husbandry. 1 Butter mnliing in iSew York, 2 " experiments nn, 151- Bnrn to love pi^'s and chickens^ 3 Bt^c linisp, Beard's pntent, 15, GO Bl:izini( the eyes of the Deer, 19 Bartlett. Levi, on farming, 25 Bees and bee-boobs, 40 " Insrnry of, ■ I'23 Blinds to brulles for Imrsre, 61 Bull, short-horned, Faufux, 56 Botany, Gl Boys and iiirls. 6G Blindcis for horses, 67 Bees of St. Simon's, (poetry) 77 Bird, instinst in, 77 Be soinethiii :. 30 Buddipfj or gij.riing trees, * 97 Beet, Bassano, JOS Bow, JS. H., timber in, 19 Bm- rhoap a;id sell Jcar. 125 B ' larHs. imnrnvetnent of, 138 Birds. ■ ...VLr, 131 r. (■ 1- n I- r-.c, coin;:.iiiiication on re-cliiiming l^nd, 13 < i, .■ :, [--, 27 v'o[i;-.,tviJ on and Guerriere, 48 flhiriRse ciiston»3, 5^ Cooking foi <1 for stock, 84 Connecticut decks, 119 Cash and credit, 123 Cr; : ■«. comparative value of, 124 Cry = r the children, (poetry) 132 C<>lnian, Henry, speech at Derby. Eng., 135 Can:!da east, a tour in, 137 Cattle, h'tive breeds, 147 *• native and imported, 169 Cultivation of hills and high grounds, 149 Cattle drovers in En-jiund, 155 Cuttinci grain, corn, &:c., and editor's remarks, 158 Commerce and ntivigation, 160 Cfjppcr inck of lake Superior, 165 Crop, a fiir, 175 Cranberries, cultivation of, 175 Cheese, irinoculation of, lb9 Cows hoitiing up milk, 179 D. Diirv. trc^ilmcnt of cuv-s, 42 Deep plnnnitin;;, b^^d. G6 Diiiy. imporlunce of a irood. . 102 Divorces, courtslii])?. marririge, &zt., 106 Domestic i=lnck, in»;.>rovemf:nt of, 107 De:!d Spaniel, (p'lctry) llo Di:>trict of Cr^Iuinbia", a.;riculture in, 132 Draininjr. imp'iriance of, 14G, 1G7 Daniels, the late Mrs. E. T., poeiuE by, 176 £. Economy for farmers, 3 Expansion. eflVcts of, 1 1 K;n:l'ind and France, notes on by W. Kenrick, II Editor's visit to Maine, 28, 78 Eitswinlh, n. L., comtuissiouer of patcute, 56 Education of larn-.ers, 59 E*;lra';rdu)ary f;irm produce, 85 Ellis. Bev. Mr., pr:iyer at Bunker Hill. June 17, 1345, 91 Editori-il r.imbles, {Farmer's Ms. Advocate) 104 Eirih, rotary motion of, 114 ]".tyniol()Liy of *' Sivccl-heart," 115 r.lio, growth of llie. 133 £..j ett, Edward, speedi at Derby, Eng., 131. Eiuih, wnndcrlul pr'>creali"n of. " 173 Editor's notes fjii journics in 10^3, 188 European tour, cost of, 179 F. Februari'. work '"nr, 11 Fencing, cutting timber, &,c., 17 Fiour markets in Holland, Si7 Farm on Staten Island, 28 February V'lt-itor, notes on. 47 First and la>t dinner, 50 Farmiuq: wilhoul rum, 59 Farmers' dau/hters, GO " wives, 1*5 Fruit trees, prnnliig of, 6'> Flowers, &<:., 71, 1 K» Farmers' clubs, benefit of, 136 Far west, letter from, 139 Firmer, (poetry) 143 Fenrde dress, 15^1 Farmers' sons and daughters, 155 Fiiher boat (poetry) 179 G. 19 20 Girabiing in Paris, Gossamer Spider, Grapes, cultivation of, 45 Gypsum, for manure, ol-,'H}6 iVrave ol a doi;. 1(KJ Ganimage, J. Esq., death of a Bnnker Hill soldier, F2U Gernnnation, 1-1 Gooil old times, 15^ Gone are thy beauties, summer, (poetry) 163 Gardens, site and size of, I'O H. Hemlock for sheep, 14 Harvest Hymn, (poetry) 154 Hops, culture nt', 41 Hemp, cultivation of", 67 How things used to be done, 73 Health, hints on, 78 Hunter. Lt. VV. \V. (U. S. N.) submerged water-wheel, 81 Horse and cow compared as to value, 92 House martin. 97 Harvesting, chapter on, 101 Hominy, 114 H:impton Beach, (poetry) 119 Horses, errors in treatment of, 1^1 H'mie breed of anim.ils, 129 Hawk and eagle, anecdotes of, 133 Hints t') farmers, 138 H'ty , '^rreat crop of, M2 Hallowed he thy name, (poetry) 1 17 Horses and niules, 1-18 H'n\e, Dr., in Germany, 151 Husbandry, new system of, 177 Home on the mountain, (poetry) 131 I. Indian tradition, 1 Interesting relic, 24 Irish peasantry, 28 Indi.Tn corn and ruta baga, 41 Irrigation, 58 Illinois, prairies and sheep in, 121 Indian weed, 155 Imported cattle, by N. Colby, 181 }. John Smith and John Brown, 13 Jeiiiiy and the watch, 168 K. Key, F. S., to the memory of, 2 Keeping a horsse too many, 122 L. Lime on clayey soils, 5 and sa"U, 169 Lost found, 6 Lime f'»r manure. 48 *' on I otaioes, 143. 165 Lard oil and candles, 54 Letter i'rom a firmer's wife, 77 Land, improvement of, 85 Locust, 93 Labor and study, alternation of, 1 16 Li:ihtn:ng, protection from, 116 Lucerne or French clover, ' 121 Madam de Slacl, notice of, 7 Manures. 14, 114.84,92 '' Bommer's method, 163, 166 Markets. &c., 16, 32, 13, 64, SO. 96, 112, 128,114, 160. 176, 190 My mother's butter, 17 Meteoroloirical Journal, by A. Chandler. 20,45.55.74. 9o, 101, 124, 137, 150, 173, 18^2 Mary .Ma^'dalene. by F. S. Key, 27 Music, nicral effect of, 29 Meadow and i^wamp lands, 30 Miscellany. . 30, 31, 62, 78, 95, 122, 144 Morton. Gov., extracts from message, 36 Manures, Fooie's prize essay on, 39 Manure, iVnm road wa^h, 43 Maine, visit to by the editor, 23, 78 Ma.viins and precepts, 100 JVlules, chcosiaiT, &.c., (poetry) 105 Model farm, ~ - 120 MachinesTor sowing seeds, 124 iMis.-issippi valley, 136 Mandan chief, costume of, 146 Maryland, wheat in, 153 Merrimack Co. W. H. Ag. Sor. 156 Morris, Robert, sketch of, 164 N. j\pv/ York, premium crops in, 35 jNapoleon Bonapirte, 58, 67 ■• before aud after Waterloo, 145 Nival stratigems, 60 r^ew inventions, the West India farmer, 127 Is'iarxara falls, 147 iSational silk convention, 149 iN. y. Ag. Fair, report of, 152 •' .^.J_* transactions of the 1st, 161 * o. Oichartls, necessity for, '13 O Its, Mature of, i'c, 49 OrnamRntnl-trees, 58 Oil painting, Co Oak, 147 Ohio, vineyards in, 17i Osen and Ijorses lor ploughin;^, conaparative value of, 187 P. Poultry, 14.52 '■ ' vnrds^lbr, 159 P'.rk,gno(l, 17 l^eacii trees, cultivation of, 18 Premium Ijrras iu Mass., 40 Potatoes, how to plant and ccoli, (poetry) Ploughing, fubsoii, PotaToe root, Prentice, E. P., of Albany, N. Y., Premiums vi' Mass. Ag. Soc, 1843, Potomac river, shad and herring lisheries, Pekin, recollections of. Premitnn crops. Paint on boilding.s, Parental government. Peaches, Plants, carbon of. Power loom, Carlwright's invention of. Plants in houses. Paraphrase, poetical of Gen. Heath's journal, Phelps, Henry, jr.. his grafted apples, Prairie and inountaiu life. Pirate lover, (poetry) R. Rives. Hon. W. C, address of before agrictil'.ural society in V'a., Reminiscence of the iate war, River counties of J\ew Vork, firming in. Rocky iMonntatii Indians, Roots, cultivation of. Rot in sheep, cure for, Recipes, Rose water, " John Smith on, Randolph, John. Reaper and the flowers, (poetry) Rattle-snakes, nature of. Razors, how to sharpen. Revolutionary army, summer campaign of in 1779, S. Small productive farm. Song of (he forge. .Si nuKrn and the Arabs, Small larms the best. Strange story, Stevens, Henry, manufacturing statistics, Spanish scenes. Silk business at Auburn. IV. Y., Stoneham murder, Sugar, Subterranean fires, cause of. Soils, wheat straw, stock, Stuart, M.iry, Soil, exhaustion of. Scythes made at Wayne. Me.. Stark, John, Cnpt., list of his rangers, .Somnambulism. Steaming hay for cattle. Sheep, (inc wooled, Silk, report on by J. Searle, .Seasoning posts, Saw mills, Salem K. I. Marine Society, Spot pond aqueduct, Small farmers, friendly advice to, Sheep, scab in, .Sullivan, Gen. among the Indians, Swine at the A". H. Insane .Asylum, Swamp land. Season, (poetry) T. Tools, take care of them. Tumble dams for^ water. Triumph of steadfast integrity, Turkish dress, 'I'opliff, Capt., the sailor farmer. Time lor cutting grain, corn and iiay, Tiiou:;hts and sentiments, by Jean Paul. Tomatoes. Taking the veil, Trumbull, Col. J., death of. U. Uncle Jacob's reminiscencep, *' on me^^ and animal:'. '■ on thanksgiving, L'rine as a manure, United States and Macedonian. \'. Vermont, "manufactures in, '• sugar in , Vegetation, influence on the air. Virginia crop. Voices of autumn, (poetry) Virginia farmer, \y. Woman and marriage, Wonderful Eights in the air, iN. Webster, Wheat, " in Maryland, Western emigrants, information to. Wheat crop of 1843 in L'. S. and England. Webster, Daniel, address of at Bunker Hill, June 17, 18'13, Wheat culture in Franco'. West and far west, to those looking that way, Washington's favorite supper, White mountains, excursion to, Wood thrnsh, VVashington city, storm at, *• " fruits and flowers at. Wood, etfect of shade on, Y. Young man's leisure. Young women, instruction to, Yankee ingenuity. 53 63 65 71 8.'i 'J I 96 10.-3 12 J 14a i.n 154 162 174 17i IB- IS ■ 3.: 3;i 55 61 63 72 100.130 73 75 102 136 139 15 18 21 21 27 33 31 39 44 46 47 47 61 145 157 170 53 85 123 126 128 130 130 133 135 136 139 143 154 159 43 65 72 83 ui 117 120 129 163 173 52,75,98 134 171 24 US 53 53 83 143 143 182 2 12 14.84,96 153 57 S5 87 '12 93 i)i 109 1. 1- I' I- CONDUCTED BY ISAAC HILL. 'Those who labor is the earth are the chosen people of God, whose breasts he has made his peculiar deposite for substastial and genuine virtue." — J VOLUME V. CONCORD, N. H. JANUARY 31, 1843. NUMBER 1. THE FARMER'S MONTHLY VISITOR, PUKLISHEL) BV ISAAC HILL, & SONS, ISSUED ON THE LAST DAT OP EVEUY MONTH, At No. 3, Hill's Brick Block. !KrGE\CEAi. AcESTs.— B. CooK, Kecni!, N n.; Thomas E. Hampton, Washington City, D. C; John Mahsh, Wash- ington St. Boston, Mass. ; Charles Warren, Brinley Kotv, Worcester, Mass. TERMS.— To single subscribers, F:fl>{ Cents. Ten per cent, ivill be allowed to the p'Mson who sh'all send more than one subscriber. Twelve copies will be sent for the advance payment of Five Dollars; twenty-five copies for Ten Dollars; si.\ty copies for Twenty Dollars. The payment in every case to he m:nlt- in advance. ^^Mo'ieij and subscriptions^ bit a regulation of the Post Master Oeneral, may in all cases be remitted bij the Post Master, free of postairc. JKr.^ll gentlemen who have heretofore acted as .\gents are reqiK-stsd to continue their Agency. Old subscribers who conif undir the new tenns, will please notify us of the nanus already on our books. /^*l!- ^l]t iHontl)Iu bisitor. degeneracy followiMl llie jirodiiflioii from soiitli- eni seeds. T!:e apple trees also vvliicli had ac- quired maturity of size in oiie-lourtli the time of a iioi'thern growth, began ah'eaily to evince evi- dences of early decay. But they could be readily sii|i|)lied witli yomig trees by importation, and the supply, thus lie maintained. These facts are but an outline of a conversa- tion upon agriculture. If they are deemed to have any interest, tliey are at your disposal. P. For the Farmer's Monthly Visitor. Accouut of the Apple in the State of Alabama. About the year 1818, a young man of enter- prise went from the vicinity of Boston to thecily of Mobile in the State of Alabama. Mis purpose was to engage in the jiurchase and shipment of cotton, which lie entered upon and for a nnmbei of years, while tluit great staple either advanced or maintained its price in the northern and Eu- ropean markets, he iucreaseil in wealth and great- ly extended his business. Tempted by success, his ap((etite n|)peaied to grow upon what it fed on: lie strained his capital and credit to their ut- most tension. His stock of cotton by contract and on hand was very great, when his fair sky of promise was darkened with the clouds of ad- versity. Price s lell to rise no more, and in their fall, all and more than all his gains were exhaust- ed and swept away. Still young, despondency soon was succeeded by that enerev which the precepts and habits of his youth tauiht him. He procured a small tract of land near Mobile, wound lip bis business, and was fortunate enough in two or three years to meet all his engagements. On this small farm he recurred again to the employ- ment of his youth, imported from New England the choicest kinds of a[iple and jieach tives^, and what he was enabled to produce upon his fijrm found a ready sale and high prices in the cily. — He handled of course less money, but uhateanie in was his own : there was no dJinand upon him. He related to tlie writer of this, on a visit about one year since, that the apple tree in jjarticular grew with unetpialled lapiilily in that climate. In five or si.\ years the small frees bad become large, and the Russetting, the Greening, the Pip- pin, &c., which hardly attain tlieir full growth in Massachusetts before they are checked by the apiM-oaching winter, at Mobile ripen in August and September U|)on the trees, and greatly sur- pass in excellence the same fruits at the iiorlh. They ripen as it were in succession ; the fruit most e.xposed to the sun and air first reaching matnrit} , and are gathered and sold as tliey ripen. He assured the writer, that such was the supe- rior flavor, size and excellence of these apnles, ripened on tlio tree, that they could not be iden- tiliedwith the .same kinds oY northern growth. His little orchard bad averagftd him a return cipial ,Jo fifty dollars per tree for a number of years. — 5J 'J'lie ground was kept ploughed constantly, and a ■^ light top dressing of mamire was laid on each r-~ successive spring. The efTects of climalo wronoht ^^^ this change upon the liuit, and was not less ^^ sinking in vegelable.s, e.si,eci;dly the potato. The seed, and also the seeds of the beet, the carrot, Q-&.C. he imported every year from the north, and O_foi- tlie first crop they surpas.sed in size and qual- ^rity, the norlheru origiurds. But he found that For the Farmer's Montlily Visitor. ludian Tradition. Ejfects of judicious crossiw^ of Breeds of Cattle. No doubt can be entertained that there is great room for improvement in the various breeds of our domestic animals. With all the importations into the country made with a special view to im- provement, how very few, compared to the whole number of our stock, are found of even good qualities. If all were good of each kind, viz: our horses, neat cattle including cows for the dairy, and sheep, what an immense difl^erence in the re- sults of a single year would there not be ? One good horse is equal to two of inferior qualities; one good ox, to two poor ones; and a first rate cow equal to three or four ; and yet the same food and pasturage is required, head for head. If all our animals were equal to some specimens, or even approached them, would not the diflference be equal in a win^lo yetir to tlio debts of all the States in tlie Union put together? The stock of our animals as they now are is susceptible of a ra[>id improvement, without hav- ing recourse to England, and merely by care and attention in preserving the best, and judiciously crossing to iiiqirove what is termed their valua- ble (mints. In this manner, we are told, all the fine breeds in England have been obtained. A recurrence to our Exhibitions, and agricnl- tuial reports will show thtit among our own stock have been found specimens equal to any of the ini|>nrted improved breeds. And if fiirmers would but select the best cows, the best pigs, horses, &c., notice the deficient points, and cross to sup- ply the defects, would not a rapid and most ad- vantageous inqn-ovement take place? For our beef cattle, the northern and north- western States appear to have advantages in soil and climate over the other and warmer portions of the country ; the cattle are generally larger, and improve belter. There is, however, along the whole Alleghany nmgo of mountains reach- ing almost to the Mississip|)i, excellent pasturage, the cool moist ranges of the mountains being al- most equal if not superior to the north. Erom ibis range is produced the fine beef found in the Philadelphia, New York, Baltimore and Wash- ington markets. And here is a country too, most favorable for sheep, as yet but thinly settled, and a climate for its healthiness no where surpassed. There appears to be less room for improve- ment in our swine than in the other races of our animals. The breeds in the west, in particular, can scarcely be expected to improve ; some of their largo hogs weighing from one thousand to fifteen hundred pounds. This is iully sufiicient, and quite e([iial to our expectations or our hopes, and would reach our imaginings unless we should give rein to some of the Indian traditions west of the Mississippi to- wards tlie Rocky Mountains, where are found those wonderful skeletons of animals, of a form- er age. "Sitting in the wigsvam of an old Pawnee, (says a late traveller,) one fine evening, smoking the pipe of fricnilship after a supper of grouiid- nntsaiid the dried tongue of a buffalo, I inquired what had become of the race of animal.- whose great bunes are ibiind in the neighborhood. — These animals, said the old chief, afler pulling bis pipe fiom his month, were the gilt of the (Jicat Spirit to our Fiithcrs in hapjiier days, before the heel of the white man had marked our shores, and while we lived in brotherhood with one another. They were then the slock of these wide iirairies around us, they dp voured the evergreens of the rocky bills in the winter; in the summer and aiunmii they fed on these plains, and grew fat ujion the cane brakes of the shores of the rivers. They were no other than the pres- ent race of the buffalo increased in size by se- lecting the largest cows, for a thousand or more years. When this began these plains were cov- ered with wood : in time all the young timber was devoured by the cattle. The old growlh died, the new eat down, and hence tlie.se wide ranges. At length war arose among us, the Great Spirit left ns to our fate, the cattle were turned loose, and no longer cared fijr ; they grew small- er and smaller, until they became, as they had been at first, and what we now sec thera." P. From the Philadelphia Fanners' Cabinet. Belgian Husbandry. In no part of the world has the cultivation of the soil attained greater perfection, than in Bel- gium ; and the numbers of a work devoted to a description of the husbandry of that country, and the manner in which, by [lerseveriug indus- try, its btirien sands have been converted into the most fertile of soils, are not the least val- uable of the series published by the London So- ciety. FiArmors in tliis country, spG.ak of the impolicy of extensive outlays in improving their farms; "It will not ])ay the expense," is the objection most frequently made, and one which is the most forcible, in reply to those who urge upon thein .systems, for the permanent meloration of their soils. We have sometimes been disposed to consider Ibis feeling of regard to immediate ex- pense or profit, more as the natural result of that restlessness of character, which is said to belong to ns as a people, and which leads ns to suppose, with reason, tiiat what will not pay note, may be lost to us forever, as from our known migratory propensities, it is scarcely (irobable our lands will remain in our hands, or those of our child- ren, fir any considerable time, rather than of any disinclination to encounter the labor which an improved husbandry requires. The benefits of a good system of farming, or the evils of a defec- ^ live one, can only be fully seen and appreciated in a considerable term of years; on such lands as the greater part of those in this country are, when brought under cultivation, what may bo called the skianins;. or scoiirghit; system, in which, repeated crops, with little labor and no manuring, ;ire taken off, may be the most |irofitable for the time, although fatal to the soil and the prosperity of the fanner in the long run; but when the perniaueiil value and productiveness of lands are taken into consideration — w hen it is remembered that it is much easier to keep lands in heart, than M to restore them when reduced to sterility; and that the eventual agricultural jiroponsily of a country is depending on a correct system of man- agement, the imiiortance of selecting the best models, and conducting our farming operations with reference to future results, as well as present profits, becomes perfectly evident. To illustrate the eftects of the two systems of firming, or rather, to show the results of the im- proved one, as compared with that generally practised with us, we give a few extracts from the papers on Belgian fanning; and the first is a description of a firm of one hundred and forty acres, on the river Lys, Courtnay. '■Of this farm, near twenty acres ai-e in fine meadows along tjie river, occasionally flooded in winter, but not irrigated. About ten acres are rich, heavy land, adjoining the meadows, in which beans and wheat thrive well: all the remainder, about one hundred and six acres, lies in a oblong fiirni, bounded by a hedge-row; at one corner of which, nearest the river, stand the fiirm build ^I)c Jarntcr's ilIontl)li) l)isitov. iugs. A road or p.-itli, six luet wide, runs llirouj;!) the middle of tliu field, and llio road or patlilljat leads to tlie liiriii van!, skirls one end ol' it. Tlie soil of lliis large field, is a ricli, light loam, which lies overa substratum of clay, but at such a de|>lh as to he perfectly sound and dry : it is not very fertile in its own nature, hut has been rendered so by many years of an iiiiproving husbandry : every part of the land 1ms been ie|n'alrdly treiiched and stiiivd luo orthrec fttt deip, an, wheat ; 7, oats. Thirty cart loads per acre, of long ma- nure, the straw not much decomposed, are put on the fallows before the last ploughing, and the winter barley is sown in October ; the produce being eiiiht quarters, or sixty-fom- bushels per acre. Wheat, on the same [ircparation, gives from thirty-two to I'oity bushels per acre, so the barley gives the larccst crop, and with the least exhaustion to the soil ; every year a portion of the pasture is broken n]i and pl.mted with colza. — The natural fertility of the soil is shown by the succession of crops proihiced on the newly broken up land, without manure, viz.: colza, wheat, beans, barley, beans, wheat, clover, wheat, beans, oats ; but after this scourging, no wonder the land needs rest; and this is given without much care, liy merely allowing the natiiral grasses to spring up, without the truuhle of sou ing the seeds : it takes, however, three years before there is any tolerable pasture, but as it remains nearly twenty years before it is again broken tqi, tlie deterioration is not so apparent ; but under a reguhrand judicious course of husbandry, this land might be kept up to the highest state of l<;rlilily, and the ultimate profit would be much greater." This is a [lictme of the farming so )ir(;valent 171 litis counlry, imd which is lust lessening our products and ruining oiu' lands: it may be (iiirly called tho exitaiislitig process, as the whole object seems to be, to get as much from the earth, and rctmn to it as lilth as possible. By the first mode of linniing, tlu! land improves constantly, growing -more productive, and of course more valuable: a farm cultivated in this way, by deep tillage, thorough management, and a well comlue- tcd rolaiioii, beconjes in time, a rich mould to the depth to w hicli the soil is stirred, and the roots of plants, having thus ample room for range and pasturage, the crops are invariably good; and thus the labor and expense is repaid, and a soil is formed, lar superior to the richest native earths and which can then easily be kept in condition to give the most am])le crops. Cultivator. To the Memory of Francis S. Iley. AlIHOK OF THE " STAlt-SPA."' IRVING. I have speculated a groat deal upon matrimo- ny. I have seen young and beautiful women, the pride of the gay circles, married — as the world says — Weill Some have moved into costly hou- ses, and their friends have all come and looked at their fine furniture and their splendid aiTange- menls for happiness, ami they have gone away and committed them to the sunny hope.*, cheer- fidly and without fear. It is luituial to bo san- guine for the young, and at such times I am carried aw.ny by similar feelings. I love to get unobserved into a corner, and watch the bride in her white attire, and with her smiling face and soft eyes moving before ine in the pride of life, weave a waking dream ot her fiilure happiness and persuade myself that it will be true. I think how they will sit upon the liixmious solii jis the twilight falls, and bidld gay hopes, and Uiurinur in low tones the liow unlbrbiddcn tenderness, !Uid how thrillingly the allowed kisses and the beautiliil endearments of Hedded life, will make even their parting joyous, anti how gladly they will eotne back from the crowd and the empty nfirth, and of the gay, to each other's quiet company. I picture to myself that young creature, who blushes even now at his hesitating caresses, listening eagerly for his footsteps as the night steals on, ami wishing that he woidd come ; and wlien he enters at last, and with an affection as undying as his pulse, folds her to his bosom. I can fee! the very tide that goes flowing throtrgh his heart, and gaze with iiim on her graceful forin as she iiroves about him for the kind ofTices of afl'ection, soothing all his unipiiet cares, and making him forget even himseli; in her young and unshiulowed beauty. I go for\\airl tor years, and see her luxuriant hair put soberly away from her brow, and her girlish graces ripened into dignity, and bri;.'ht loveliness chastened into affection. Her husband looks on her with a proud eye, and shows her the same fervent love, and the delicate attentions which first won her, jiiid fair children are grown up about them, and they go on lidl of honor .and untroubled year.*, and are remembered when they die! I say I love to dream thus when I go to give the yoimg bride joy. It is the natural tendency and feeling touched by loveliness, that fears nothing for itself, and if 1' ever yield to darker feelings, it is because the light of the picture is changed. 1 am not fond of dwelling upon such chatiges, and I \\\\\ not minutely now. I allude to it only because I trust that my simple page will be read by some of the young and beautiful beings who move daily across my path, and I would whisper to tiiein, as they glide by, joyously and confidently, the secret of an un- clouded future. The picture I have drawn above is not pe- culiar. It is colored like the fancies of the bride; and many, oh ! many an hour will she sit, with her rich jewels lying loose in her fingers, and dream such dreams as these. She believes them too — and she goes on for a while mideceived. The evening is not too long while they t;dk of plans of hapjiiness, and the quiet meal is still pleasant with delightful novelty of mutual reli- ance and attention. There comes soon, how- ever, a time when (lersonal topics become bare and wearisome, and slight attentions will not alone keep up the social excitement. There are intervals of silence, and detectesou? No French bed in the bouse, no boudoir, no ottomans, no pastilles, no baths, no Psvche to dress by. What vulgar peting; and by ten o'clock that night the four walls^of the apartment were covered with the gaily flowered material, the carpet was nailed down, and old farmer Bracely thought it a mighty nice, cool-looking place. Eph. was a bit of a carpenter, and he soon knocked together .some boxes, which, when covered with chintz, and stnftedwith wool, looked very Idic ottomans; and with a handsome cloth on the round-table, ger- aniums in the windows, and a chintz curtain to subdue the lii-ht, it was not far from a very charming boudoir, and Bleg began to breathe more freely. But Eph. had heard this news with the blood hot in his temples. Was that proud woman coming to look ag.ain upon him with contempt, and here, too, where the rusticity, w hicli he pre- sumed to be the object of her scorn, would be a thousand times more flagrant and visible? And yet, with the entreaty on his lip that his cousin would refuse to receive her, his heart bad check- ed the utterance- for an irresistible desire sprung suddenly within him to see her, even at the bitter cost of tenfold his former mortification. Yet, as the preparations for receiving Miss Hampson went on, other thoughts took jiossess- ion of his mind. Eph. was not a man, indeed, to come off second best in tbe long inill of wrest- ling with a weakness. His pride began to show its'colors. He remembered his independence as aVarmer, depeniient on no man, and a little com- parison between his pursuits and life, such as he knew it to be, iu a city, soon put him, in his own consciousness at least, on a par with Miss Ilamp- son's connections. This point once attained, E))h. cleared his brow, and went whistling about tbe farm as usual— receiving without reply, however, a suggestion of his Cousin Meg's, that he had betterliurn his old straw bat, for, in a fit of ab- sence, he misrht possibly put it on while Miss Hampson was there. . Well, it was ten o'clock on the morning niter Miss Hampson's arrival at Bracely farm, and, as we said before. Miss Pifflit was in despair. Pre- siimin" that her friend would be liitigued with her iournev, she had determined not to wake her, but t"o order breakfast in the boudoir at eleven. Farmer 15racely and Eph. must have their breakfast at seven, however, and what was the dismay of Mes, who was pouring out their coffee as usual, to see the elegant Julia rush into the first kitchen, ciirtsv very sweetly to the old man, null ui) a chair to the table, apologize lor bein-^'late, and end this extraordinary scene by IirodTicing two newlv batched chickens from her bosom ! She had been up since sunn.se, and out at the barn, and down by the river, and up in the hav-mow, and was perfectly enchanted with every thing, especi.dly the dear little pigs and chickens ! .,.,',,,/• "A very sweet young lady !" thought old far- mer Bracelv. , . ,„ "Verv well— but lians: your condescension! thonght" Eph., distrustlhlly. , , . , ,„ "Mercy on me!— to like pigs and chickens! inentallv"eiacnlated the disturbed and bewildered Miss Pi'fBit. . , , . But with her two chicks pressed to her iireast with one hand, Miss Hampson managed her cof- fee and bread and hotter with the other, and chattered away like a child let out of school. The !dr was so" delicious, and the liny smelt so sweet, and the trees in the meadow were so bciniiful, and there was no stiff siduwinks. and miilHWLWf W r^.mir,;^'V'fBma!rLAi2-wisemmiMsaiM ©l)c iTarmcr's iHontl)lpbisxtor. no lirick liousef!, ;ui(l no n'oii niilmgs, nu<\ so many dear specUled liens, and lunny little iliick- cns, and kind-looking old cous, and colts, and calves, and ducks, and tiiikcys— it was delicious —it was eiicliaiitiii;,'— it was wortli a thousand Saratou'as and Rockaways. How anybody could prefei- the city to the country, was to Miss Ilamp- son tiiatter of incredulous wonder. " Will you come into the boudoir?" asked Miss Pitflit, with a languishing air, as her friend Julia rose from breakfast. "Boudoir!" exclaimed the city damsel, to the infinite delight of old Bracely, "no, dear! I'd rather go out to the barn! Are you goiug any where with the oxen to-day, sir?" she added, going up to the gray headed old farmer, caress- inaly, "I should so liiie a ride iii that great cart !" Epii. was still a little sus|)iclous of all this un- expected agreeablencss, but ht; was natiu-ally too courteous not to give way to a lady's whims. He put on his old straw hat, am! tied his handker- chief over his shoulder, (not to imitate the broad ribbon of a royal order, but to wipe the sweat off handily while mowing,) and offering Miss Hampson a rake which stood outside the door, be begged her to be ready when he came by with the team. He and his father were bound to the far meadow, where they were cutting bay, and would like her assislant^e in raking. It was a "specimen" morning, as the maga- zines say, for the air was temperate, and the whole country was laden with the smell of the new bay, which somehow or other, as every body knows, never hinders or overpowers the |ierfuine of the flowers. Oh, that winding green lane be- tween the bushes was like an avenue to paradise. The old cart jolted along through the ruts, and Miss Hampson, standing up and holding on to old farmer Bracely, watched the great oxen crowding iheirsides together,and looked off over the fields, and exclaimed as she saw glimpses of the river between the trees, and seemed veritably and unaffectedly enchanted. The old farmer, at least, had no doubt of her sincerity, and he watch- ed her, and listened to her, with a broad honest smile of admiration on his weather-browned countenance. The oxen were turned up to the fence, while the dew dried off the bay, and Eph. and bis lather turned to mowing, leaving Miss Hampson to ramble about over the meadow, and gather flowers by the river side. In the courses of an hour they began to rake up, and she came to offer her promised assistance, and stoutly follow- ed Eph. up and down several of the long swaths, till her flice glowed imder her sun-bonnet as it never had glowed witli waltzing. Heated and tired at last, she made herself a seat with the new hay muler a large elm. and, v\'ith her back to the tree, watched the labors of her compan- ions. Ei)h. was a well-built and manly figure, and all he did in the way of his vocation, he did with a fine dis[ilay of muscular power, and (a sculptor would have thought) no little grace. Julia watch- ed him as he stepped along after bis rake on the elastic sward, ami she thought, for the first time, what a very hamlsomo man was young Bracely, and how much more finely a man looked when raking bay, than a dandy when waltzing. And fur an hour she sat watching his motions, admir- ing the strength with which he pitched up the hay, and the grace and ease of all his movements ami postm-ps; and, after a while, she began to feel (Irowsy with faligue, and pulling n[) the hay into a fragrant pillow, she lay down and It'll fast asleep. It was now the middle of tho forenoon, and the old firmer, who, of late years, had fallen into a haliit of taking a short na)) before dinner, camo to the big elm to pick up his waistcoat and go home. As he ap|)roached the tree, be stopped, ;uid beckoned to his son. Eph. came up and stood at a little distance, looking at the lovely picture before him. With one delicate hand under her cheek, and a smile of angelic content and enjoyment on her fiuclv cut lips, Julia Hampson slept soundly in the shade. f)ne small foot escaped from her dress, and oiK^ slioulder of faultless polish and white- ness showed between her kerchief and her sleeve. Her slight waist bent to tho swell of the hay, throwing her delicate and well-moulded bust into high relief; and all over her neck, and in large clii-ters on the tumbhnl hay, lay- those glossy brown ringlets, admirably beautiful and luxu- riant. And ns Eph. looked on that dangerous picture of loveliness, the passion, already lying jxrilu in his bosom, sprung to tho throne of heart and reason. (We have not room to do more than hint at the consequences of this visit of Sliss Hampson to the country. It would recpiire the third volume of a novel to describe all the emotions of that month at Bracely f\rm, and bring the reader, lioint by point, gingerly and softly, to the close. We must touch here" and there a point oidy, giving the reader's imagination some gleaning to (io after we have been over the ground.) Eph. Bracely's awakened pride served him the good turn of making him appear simply in bis natural character during the whole of Miss Ham p- son's visit. By the old maifs advice, however, he devoted himself to the amusement of the ladies after the haying was over ; and what with fishing, and riding, and scenery hunting in the neighborhood, the young people were together from morning till night. Miss Pifflit came down nnwillingly to plain Meg, in her attendance on her friend in her rustic occupations, and Miss Hampson saw as little as possible of the inside of the boudoir. The barn, and the troops of chick- ens, and all the out-doors belongings of the liirm. interested her daily, and with no diminuiion of her zeal. She seemed, indeed, to have found her natural sphere in the simple and affectionate life which her friend Margerinc held in such super- fine contempt; and Eph., who was the uatuial mate to such a sj)irit, and himself, in his own home, most imconsciously worthy of love and admiration, gave himself up irresistibly to his new passion. And this new passion became apparent, at last, to the incredulous eyes of his cousin. And that it was timidly but fondly returned by her elegant and bii;h bred friend, was niso very apparent to Miss Pifiiit. And after a tew jealous struggles, and a night or two of weeping, she gave up to it trani]uilly — for, a city life and a city bnshand, truth to say, had long been her secret longing and hope, and she never bad fairly looked in tlie face a burial in tho country with the " pigs and chickens." She is not married yet, Meg Pifl^it — but the rich merchant, Mr. Hampson, wrecked complete- ly with the disastrous times, had foimd a kindly and pleasant asylum for bis old age with his daughter, Mr.s. Bracely. And a better or lovelier farmer's wife than Julia, or a happier farmer than Eph., can scarce be found in the valley of the Susquehannah. For tho Farmer's Mont'.iy Visitor. From the Dyind of Columbia. Lime o;i Clayey Soils. Mr. Hill: — In a late number of the Visitor you mention the use of lime upon the soils here, and the increasing inter 'St felt in this vicinity uiion the subject of Agriculture. There is per- haps no part of the Union tliat offers to youth, industry and enterprise a more sure i-cturn than the District, and adjacent counties in Maryland and Virginia. A climate very healthy, and most agreeable temperatin-e, to every reflecting mind are important considerations, as so large a por- tion of the happiness of life di-pends upon health, in a good climate. When a fair allowance is made i\T AS A WoOD SaWVER."— We know not liow it is, but we iiave often lini- cied that tliere was an independence about wood-sawyers which is not to l)e found in any otlier class of people. From whence does it arise ? jierhaps from the fact that for a five dol- lar bill he can set up in business, buy his saw and horse and commence operation immediately. — His business does not depend upon hinnan laws, upon tariffs, a free trade ; it is in the weather alone that he depends for his business. If the days are cold, wood is up, and the wood-sawder lubs his hands and is sure of work. If a warm Spell comes, he consoles hin>self with the reflec- tion that it will not last loner, and that it will be talanced with a cold sna|) hereafter; nothing worries him like a January thaw; nothinir pleas- es him so as to have the thermometer below zero. He is the decided enen)y of coal stoves, and even air-ti{;hts are decidedly objectionable. Those cook stoves vvhich requii'e three cuts, are tlie ne plus xiltra of hinnan invention. He is indepen- dent in the thought that as long as wood grows and winter follows autumn, his business will not fail. Though sometimes disappuinled in a job, he never is down-cast: "cut and come again," is his motto. He is pleased with the thought that by his labor his own and his iieighhoi's " pot is kept boiling." He warms the ((?etof the childien. His daily labors are in efl^ect to counleract old Boreas, and to let him know that while he is king without the house, that he is king within. A pei-- son standing in such an important relation to tnankind, braving with his hiimhle saw and horse, the frosts and storms of life, adding heat and com- fort where all v/as cold and chill ; we say a man standing in such an important relation, must feel the dignity of his calling, and that inde|iendence and elevation of character which arises from the reflection that we do not live for ourselves alone, but for the glory and comfort of the common family of man. Who can wonder then, at the " independence of wood sawyers ?" — Lowell Cou- rier. OcR Modes or Life. — Theeditorof the Phil- adelphia Enquirer thinks that the modes of life, the means of preserving health, are not suftieient- ly cared for in our country. He says: " Hun- di'eds become old and feeble at fifty or sixty, while others are still vigorous in mind and body, at the age of seventy or eighty. Look through society, and many examples will be found. The influence of misforlnne and disease is serious in many cases, hut with the multitude, the habits, the disposition, the tone of mind, have a far great- er influence. We were forcibly struck," he adds, " with this view a day or two ago, diirir.g a visit from friends, one sixty-two and the other fifty- one. The former, I hough subjected to many vi- cissitudes, the victim of more than one serious freak of fortune ; looketl as well as he did ten years before, and was quite as cheerful. The oth- er was rapidly declining, and without any appar- ent cause ; the first being a business man ami compelled to expose himself to all descriptions of weatlier, in oixler to obtain a livelihood ; the other being in independent ciicumstances, lliongh it is, perhaps, right to add, of rather indolent habits, and fretful disposition." Arab Beauty. — Among them was one of the most beautiful girls I ever saw, aiiparently about twenty years of ago. She was of q dark com- plexion, with eyes black as jet ; the inside of her eyelids was blackened with kolile, her tl'eth were white as ivory, and her long hair Ic'll down her neck and over her shoulders long enough for her to sit down upon. i?iie h;id large siKei- ear-rings and a silver ring ihiongh her under lip, gently drawing it down and displaying her fine teeth. Throngh her hair was passed a silver arrow, con- fining her veil to ihe top of her head, which was thrown back negligently over her shoulders: she was habited in a long, blue, loose shirt, o[ien at the breast; her bare arms were covereil with bracelets and amulets, and a string of heads was wound round her neck ; her feet were bare, and two large rings were fiisteued round her ankles. She walked as all ihe Arab women do; wiih a grace and beauty of carriage J never saw sur- passed; nor in simplicily and elegance of ap- pearance have I ever seen a fine larly of Europe, with her jewels and pearls, equal this plain and sim|ile Arab girl. — Jlddison's Travels. AoRicuLTtJRE. — Rev. Mr. Choules in a dis- course ou Agriculture, says that the first book on culture as a science, was ])ublished in Eng- land in the sixteenth century. The first reward (or an essay on Agiicnlture, was given by the celelirated " Protector," Oliver Cromwell. But the ureat era (ioiii which all the triumphs of Ag- riculture now d;ite, is 1793, when uiiiler the au- spices of Pitt and Sinclair, an Agricultural sur- vey of England was ordered, .•uid public atleu- tion directed to this important subject. Peers placed their sons with praclical larniers fi)r in- struction. Chemistry was soon called to the aid of production, and Agriculture took its proper rank as the first and noblest science. Gen. Washingto.n's Toast. — At tlie close of the Revolntinaiy War, when the American Army was disbanded, Gen. Washington took an affect- ionate leave of his officers, and at a jjnbfic din- ner on the occasion, gave the Ibllowing toast: "The American Soldier of Freedom -May he at all times secure a good and |ilenliful ration ; and when he has finished his tour of duty on earth, may he pitch his tent in the Elysian field.s, and there receive his reward from the right hand of the God of battles!" From the Rochester Democrat. The Lost Found. We had frequently observed a heart-broken looking lad jiass by with a gallon oil can in his hand. His tattered garments and his melancholy face were well calculated to excite observation and pity. It was hut too evident that the vessel v.hich he carried liad been diverted from its le- gitimate use, and thai it was now used, not as an oil-can, but a whisket jug Having seen him pass twice in one day, with jis ever present can, we had the curiosity lo accost him, and did so by inqiiiriiig his residence "I live," said he, "iivi? miles from the city, on the road." "You have lieen to the city once before to-day, have you not .'" " Yes sir, I came down in the morning ; but I could not get what I was sent for, and had to come again." '• What was you sent for, my lad? It must be something very important, lo make it necessary for yon to walk twenty miles in this storm." " Why, sir, it was whiskey that I \v.is .sent for. Father had no money, and he sent me to Mr. 's to get trusted ; but he wouldn't trust any more, so 1 had to go home without the whiskey ; but father sent me back again." "How do yon expect to get it now, when you couldn't get it in the morning?" "Why, sir, 1 have brought a pair of shoes which sister sent mother. Mr. will give whiskey for them. He hiisgot two or three pairs of mother''s shoes now." "Do vou like to carry whiskey home, my boy?" "Ob, no, sir, for it makes all so unhappy; but 1 can't help it." We took the responsibility of advising the boy not to fulfil his errand, and returned home with him. The family, we found, consisted of hus- band, wife, and four children; the oldest (the boy.) was not more than ten years of age, while the youngest was an infant of a few monUie. It was a cold, blustering day. The north wind blow harshly, and came roughly and unbidden through the numberless crevices of the poor man's hovel. A few black embers occnpieil the fire» place, around which were huddled the half naked children, and the woe-stricken mother and will;. Her fiice was haggard — her eyes sunken — her hair dishevelled — her clothes tattered and un- clean. She was .sealed upon an old broken chair, and was mechanically swinging to and fi'o, as if en- deavoring to ipiiet her infant, which moaned pit- iliilly in its mother's arms. It had been sick fiotn its birth, and it was now seemingly struj,'- gling to free itself from the harsh worhl into which it had, but a few nionihs jirevioiis, been ushered. There was no tear in the eye of the moiher, as she gazed on the expiring b;ihe. The fbnutain had been, long befijre, dried up by the internal fires whii'h alcohol hail kindled and fed. Yet she was the picture of despair; and we could not but fancy, as she sat thus, that her mind was wandering back to the happy past — the days of her infancy and girlhood, and her early home. Poor thing! She had given her afiV-ctions and her hand to a man who had taken the first steps in intemperance. She hail left her home full of buoyant hopes — hopes never to be realized — to s|)end a life of misery with a sot. Bioken-lieart- ed — cast out from the society of her former friends — li owned upon by the "good society" humanp — spoken of as the miserable wili' of a miserable drunkard — with no arm to help, no heart to pity — she very soon became a tippler ami a drunkard herself. By the side of this woe-smitten niother kneeled a little girl of five or six years, down whose sal- low cheeks tears were coursing, and who ever and anon exclaimed, "Poor little Willie! Must you die?" "Oh, mother, must Willie die?" and then kissing the clammy sweat from little Wil- lie's brow, covered her face with her tattered apron, and wept. In the opposite corner of the chimney, and among the ashes which covered the hearth, sat a boy of about seven year.s, draggiiiij from the half dead embers a potato, which he broke open with the remark, " Mother, give this to little Willie. May be he's hungry. I'm hungry, too, and so is sister; but Willie's sick. Give him this potato, mother." " No, poor boy," said the mother. " Willie will never lie hungry again. He will soon be drud." This remark drew all the cliiliiren around the mother and the dying child. The father was sitting upon what was intended (or a bedstead, without hat, shoes, or coat, with his hands thrust into his poi-kets, apparently indiflerent to all that was passing around him. His head was resting upon his breast, and his blurred eyes wore fast- ened upon the floor, as if he were afiaid to look up at the sorrowing group who were watching the countenance of the dying infant. There was a moment of silence. Not a sound was heard. Even the sobs of the little girl had ceased. Death was crossing the hovel's thresh- old. The very respiration of the household seemed suspended ; when a light shivering of the limbs of the infant and a shriek fi'om the half conscious mother told that the vital spark had fled. For the first time, the father moved. Slowly advancing to where his wife was seated, with quivering lips, he whispered, "Is Willie dead?" " Yes, James, the poor babe is dead !" was the choking reply of the mother, who still sat, as at first, gazing upon the fici; of her little one. Without multering another word, the long bru- talized tiither left the house, muttering as he left, "My God, how long?" At this moment, a kind-hearted lady came in, who had heard, hut a few moments before, of the dangerous illness of the child. She had brought with her some medicine; but her angel visit was too late ; the gentle spirit of the babe had fled, and there remained for her but to com- fort the living. This she did, while wi; followed the father. We related to him ihecirctim.-lances which had led us to his house, and briefly spoke of the misery which inevitably follows in the wake of intemtierance. "I know it, sir," said he ; "I have long known it. I have not always been what you now see me. Alcohol and my appetite Inive brought me to this depth of degra, how faithfully does memory cling to the fast fading mementos of n parent's home, to remind us of the sweet councils of a mother's tongue. Ami, oh! how instinctively do we hang over the early scenes of our boyhood, brightened by the recol- lection of that waking eye that never closed while a single wave of misfortune or daimer sighed around her child. Like the lone star of the heavens in the deep solitude of nature's night, she sits the presi