61ri familg (Sittig.
COME HOME, FATHER.
Father, dear father, come home with me now,
The clock in the steeple strikes one ;
You said you were coming right home from the
shop,
As soon as your day's work was done.
Our fire has gone out, our house is all dark,
And mother's been watching sins& tea,
With poor brother Benny so sick linter arms,
And no one to help her but me.
Come home! come home! come home! •
Please, father, dear father, come home!
CHORUS
Hear the sweet voice of the child,
Whichthe night-winds repeat, as they roam;
Ohl who could resist this most plaintive of
prayers ;
Please, father, dear father, come home I
Father, dear father, come hone with me now,
The clock in the steeple strikes two ;
The night has grown colder, and Benny is worse !
But he has heen calling for you ;
Indeed he is worse, ma says he will die—
Perhaps before morning shall dawn,
And this is the message she sent me to bring:
Come quickly, or he will be gone I
Hear the sweet voice, &c.
Father, dear father, come home with me now
The clock in the steeple strikes three ;
The house is so lonely, the hours are so long
For poor weeping mother and me !
Yes, we are alone, poor Benny is dead,
And gone with the Angels of light,
And these were the very last words that he said ;
I want to kiss papa good-night.
Hear the sweet voice, &c.
SAILOR SAM.
" JEST'S FOUND OF ONE WHO SOUGHT HIM NOT."
It pleasedltpd, by whom my steps
were led to Langport, in the service of
the Gospel, some years since, to bring
there at the same time, a sailor who
had run away from his father's home
at ten years old and gone to sea. His
parents knew not what had become of
him, and mourned his loss more sadly
than if he had died beneath their roof.
After an absence of twenty years, spent
in the East India and China trade, he
returned a fine, stalwart man, what
his companions would call "a jolly
sailor."
He had gone to his native place to
seek his early home, and the parents
from whom he had recklessly run
away; but they had removed to the
larger village of Langport. Thither
he went; and having inquired for his
father by name, he was told that the
man he sought for worked for a Mr.
S., a - )ad, seeing there an -elderly„ man,
he inquired :
" Does Mr. Stucky live here ?",
The old man answered, "Yes; do
you want to see him ?"
" No ; but I suppose that I want to
have a word with a man that works
for him," said the sailor.
Twenty years had so changed both,
that there was no recognition on either
side. The old. man then asked the
younger :
"What's the mai , namewhom you
want ?"
"Joseph Petheric,' said the sailor.
" That's my own name," replied the
other.
" Well, if you are the man I'm look
ing for, I'm your Sam," said the heavy,
broad-sailor.
"No ! you're not my son," said the
father.
" But I am your son," persisted the
sailor.
" Well, if you are, your mother will
know you,—come along with me."
They went together to the old man's
home, and the father said to his wife,—
"Mother, here. is a strange man, who
says he is our,'spn Samudl."
"If he said the astonished mo
ther, "he has a mark made by a piece
of wood on the elbow of the left 'AO
and by ttr.t I shall know at once."
The sailor had off his jacket in a
moment and bearing his arm, he
said:—
" There will that do for a mark I"
"Yes! oh, yes! it is our Samuel,—
the lost one is found!" the mother ex-t
claimed; and they "fell on his neck
and kissed him," rejoicing like the
father of the prodigal son.
The parents, however, soon discov
ered that their long-lost son had re
turned to them, not only lost to all
sense of his soul's eternal interests, but
even to any care for the ntrality corn
-
mon among men. Deeply 'grieved,
and yearning over him with a parent's
love, they sought by words of tender
remonstance and entreaty to win him
to some consideration of these things;
but all in vain; and his parent's society
soon became uncongenial and irksome
to the sailor. Two of his brothers
had heard of his return, and came
from a short distance to spend the day
with him and—As they said—" to
have a jolly spree."
The father, who had heard of the
proposed preaching by a stranger, en
treated Samuel to go with him in the
evening to hear the Gospel. But
Satan was at work there, as if antici
pating that this thoughtless sinner was
about to be plucked as a brand from
the burning. He refused to go, pre
ferring the company of his brothers,,
who were, like himself, without God
and without hope in the world. So
the three brothers started for the vil
lage tavern to seek congenial com
pany. Finding him immovable, the
father said to his son, " Well, Samuel,
if you will not go with me, I will go
with you;"—and there in that evil
place, sat the swearing, drinking sons,
and the praying Christian father.
After a little while, one of the
brothers said, " Come, Sam, let us go
to another place." They Heat a little
way, the father following with a
yearning heart. Presently, Samuel
said to his brothers, "Let's go back;
THE AMERICAN PRESBYTERIAN THURSDAY, DECEMBER 28, 1865.
there's no fun in having father about
after our heels,"—and back they went
to the father's house. When there, in
reply to further entreaty, Sam said,
" Well, I suppose there will be nothing
but sulks in the house,Row I'm come
home, if I don't go to he the preach
ing to-night, so I'll go."
He came; but I bad not heard a word
about him, and did not even know that
he was. the place. I preached the
Gospel from the fifteenth chapter of
Luke,—the Father's love to the prodi
gal son. After the meeting, on my
way to my lodgings, I was asked to
stop and see a sailor who had lately
returned home. I found a fine look
ing man seated, and evidently under
much emotion, his chest moving
heavily. He may have often heard
himself called a sinner by fellow-men;
but now God said to him in the secret
thought of his heart—" Sinner . 1 " and
his guilty Kai trembled at the thought
of God's judgments for sin.
" This is a faithful saying and wor
thy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus
cache into the world to save, sinners."
" I dare say it's all 'tite: enough
what you say," he replied; "'.but Christ
will have nothing to do with me. I'm
too bad a fellow for him."
I added, " Jesus Christ, the Son of
God, came to seek and to save the lost
—the chief of sinners."
" Yes, but you don't know,"- said he,
" how bad a fellow I am. In twenty
years I have not entered a church, or
read a word of the Bible, or of any
good book ; and in the worst crew of
wicked sailors that I ever shipped with
I was so much worse than the rest that
they named me, 'The Ship's Devil.'
Why, sir, in the midst of a storm,
when every plank seemed to tremble
as the thunder broke and the lightni 1;,
played around us, I have stood on e'e
deck and madly cursed him who k/it
the "storm,—No, no!, he'll not s ' • e
me 1"
I only added, " JESUS caiae to save
real sinners, even the chief ;" and then
said, `Good night."
I did not call on him to pray for
mercy, but rather to believe in a mercy
already provided. The fountain was
there, and he was to be shown its
waters rather than be told to ask for it.
The next evening he was again pre
sent and heard the same Gospel as the
night before, of present, perfect, and
eternal salvation, through faith only
in the person and precious blood of
Christ. The following morning, while
I was at breakfast with my host, just
previous to leaving the village,
,the
door-bell was rung, and the servant
came in sa,ying:—
" SamuelkPetheric is at the door, sir ;
and he told i‘ir ; a say that he oves
the preacher b::4- than the preacher
loves him." w,
We
We allo7l
ought at once what it
meant, and said, "Oh, do tell him to
come in !"—land we ran to meet him
as he came. He was no sooner in the
parlor than he said to me:
' " Oh, my dear sir ! I'm not the sailor
you saw on Tuesday night,—l'm an
other man,—a new man. I heard the
good news again last night, and my
heart was opened to receive it,—but
the peace and joy did'nt come just then.
But after we went home, Brother Pome
roy"—he knew that now every child
of God was to him a brother—" said,
Let us pray together ;' and so he
prayed, and then I prayed ; and, as we
rose from our knees, I found myself
filled with peace an joy. And when
I went to bed—No ! bed indeed!—l
- did'nt go to bed—who'd think of go
ing to bed on such a night as that ?
But I went up to my room, and there
I rejoiced and gave thanks to the Lord
for my salvation. But all at once I
thought,—' Ah ! but is it possible,—
all those dreadful sins of so many years
gone,—and in a moment ?' And I
turned round, and said, ' Ah, Mr. Sa
tan, that's you, is it ? Come, come,
you've had your way long enough;—
yes i they are all forgiven ; for the
blood of Jesus Christ, God's Son,cleans
eth from all sin: So the old enemy
had heard enough, and he fled."
That night the profligate sailor,
" The Ship's Devil," was enabled to
believe in Jesus Christ the Son of God;
and in believing, he received the know
ledge of salvation, full, free, and com
plete. He was translated out of the
kingdom of Satan into the kingdom of
God's dear Son. Oh i glorious trans
lation—wondrous change
"My dear sir," he continued, "I feel
as light as a cork . why, I could clear
that table at a spring with one hand
upon it." He spoke like a sailor as he
had been used to speak, and I give
his own expressions. One look at
Christ by faith, and his soul was saved;
he knew it too, and, like the Philip
pian-jailor, he rejoiced the same night,
believing.
He then went on to say :
"Why, there are two of us here now 1"
—striking himself on the breast,--"yes;
two of us,—one holding with the Lord,
and the other still holding with the
devil. Even this morning, that one
that holds with the devil said, Come,
Sam, let's put on our hat, and take a
stroll.' But the other said directly,
'No, no, Samuel; we'll go and see the
servant of Christ, and tell him what
the Lord has done for us.' So here I
came. Oh! how I should like to be
able to go and tell my old shipmates
that Christ has sought me and found
me; and tell them about him. But
there!—l suppose I must stay, and
have my own faith and hope strength
ened, and know more about the Lord
before I try my hand at that ; but I
can pray for them."
I then said to him, " Samuel, you
are indeed saved by grace ; and now
the grace of God, that brings salvation,
teaches us that denying ungodliness
and worldly lusts, we should live so
berly, righteously, and—" "Oh, yes !"
interrupted he, " Why, the grace of
God has been talking to me all the
morning about that, just like a father
would talk to his child. It said to
me, Samuel, my boy, we have no
more now to do with the old ways. It
is our business now to please Christ
and to follow him.'"
I took leave of him; but four days
afterwards, at another village, where I
was preaching in a barn, I saw Samuel ;
and he did, indeed, look like another
man—not at all like the rough sailor
I had first seen him. Some Christians
were gathered round him, hearing and
asking questions. As I passed by, I
overheard his reply to some question,
which I did not catch. The reply was
—" I don't know, I'm sure, for I'm
only four clays old."
Sailor Sam lived in the power of
the new life begotten in him, following
faithfully Him who had plucked him
as a brand from the burning. I heard
of him from time td. time, as full of faith
and good works, but saw him only once
again, and then at an interval ofsome
years. He was in port at the place of
my residence, and came to see me. He
told me he was mate of a schooner in
the coasting trade, and added,—, ;
"My dear sir, the captain is a son,
and he knows it - too ; but he did'nt
know it when we first met. When we
were both below, and 'twas calm wea
ther and all right on deck, I said to
him, Captain, shall we read a chapter,
and have a little a prayer ? 'With all
my heart, mate,' said he. So we read
and prayed ; and as we sat down, I
looked across the table and said tc?him,
Captain, are you a son ?" Ah.'
said he, as to that, I can't say that I
am a son." Then you are an enemy !'
said I, 'No mate,' said he, '1 know
that I am no longer an enemy." Then,'
said you're a son l' He knows that
now; a . 3 "4y wocb - happy seasoTtgr offen
togethK tti hg, of the grace and pre
cious blotial* which we are saved."
Readef! are you unsaved ? Behold
what God did for " The Ship's Devil !"
Can he, will he not do it for you ?—The
British Herald.
THE NEIGHBOR'S CHILDREN.
" Lulu, come in now ; it is time for
mamma's baby to be undressed and go
to bed," called Mrs. Lovett, from her
sitting-room window.
" No, no, Lulu wont," answered
" mamma's baby," with a stamp of her
little foot and a shake of her little
head.
" - 0 t 0 - F 4- in a chiding tale. - - *Tibia .
doesn't mean that
"Yes she do," answered baby, defi
antly. And the black eyes flashed out
the truth of the last assertion.
Mamma was mortified. Her visitor
was an unwilling spectator of this small
rebellion, and mamma apologized.
She really never knew Lulu to speak
so Wore ; she was usually so docile,
and 'so affectionate in her obedience;
she thiist have learned these naughty
words of little Minnie Gray, her four
year-bld neicrhbor, who had been in
to play with her an hour or two that
afternoon. She never would have
thought of such a thing if she had not
heard it somewhere.
Perhaps kind little Mrs. Lovett
would have felt her mortification in
creased had she heard Mrs. Gray's
remark at tea-time to her husband:
" Our Minnie is getting an odius
habit of making up faces, and I believe
she has learned it from Mrs. Lovett's
little girl. That child is always making
up faces, and none of our children
ever had that habit. How much mis
chief they do learn as soon as they
get large enough to go out with other
children !" Mr. Lovett has in his
pocket just now the bill for damages
for the breaking of a street-lamp by a
stone thrown by one of his boys ; but
then he never did such things till he
played with " those Smith boys." Mr.
Smith, smarting under a sense of simi
lar infliction, is glad, for his part,,
that his boys don't do anything worse
than throwing stones ; if they were
out after dark, like thoie"Browns and
Joneses, he shouldn't know how much
glass they did break. Mrs. Fairly
goes to the school-house,, and tells the
teacher that she has noticed that her
son's report is not as good as it should
be; but if the teacher will move his
seat away from the Drake boy, who
always whispers to him and makes
him laugh, she thinks he will have a
better record. The teacher knows
that this innocent mother's son is the
very ringleader of all the michief of
the school room. The quietest and
most conscientious boys it the school
have been seated next him, but none
can be found who are proof against
the contagion of his habits.
-Are the parents all blind ? and do
they believe that nothing wrong ori
ginates with their children Does it
never occur to little Mrs. Lovett that
her " blessed baby" has a spark of
temper and self-will of her own, and
that "I wont," and a stamp of her lit
tle foot, are the. natural way of mani
festing it ? Does Mrs. Gray suppose
no child of her's capable of " making
up faces," till somebody else is seen to
do it; and do the boys need to take
lessons in throwing stones before they
practice the art in the public streets?
Alas, poor weak human nature, which
would blind the eyes of others if it can
not close its own to the faults of its
children ! Why attempt to lay the
blame on the neighbors' children? Is
it not full as wise and safe, while we
teach the little ones to avoid copying
the faults and mistakes of others, to
teach them watchfulness of their own
little hearts and . their own budding
desires and propensities, that they may
early learn to grapple with temptation
in its most insidious forms, and grow
strong to resist the tide ere it sweep
them away with its flood ?
Do not apologize for your child's
fault, in his presence, by saying that
he learned it of somebody else ; but
rather teach him to avoid and despise
all evil habits, while he must feel nei
ther harsh nor vindictive toward the
wrong-doer. And teach him also that
any inner prompting to wrong, resis
ted and overcome, is the occasion of a
greater victory than a temptation from
without which is successfully with
stood, and from such struggles and
triumphs will be wrought out charac
ters of dignity and strength, such as
the Church and the nation need.
tit Atittif pia
FAMILIAR TALKS WITH THE CHIL
DREN.
410.
SECOND SERIES. IV.
BY REY. EDWARD PAYSON lIAMMOND.*
HOW TO BE HAPPY
"I DO BELIEVE THE WAY TO BE HAP
PY IS TO LOVE JESUS."
These are the words of a little girl
who once thought religion a gloomy
affair. She supposed it was only good
for old people, and not for merry,
skipping girls. But she is ‘now glad
that she has found her mistake.
Jesus wishes to have little children
happy ; but if they are in danger of
losing their souls, He wishes to have
them know it before it is too late.
Have you, my dear little friend, found
out that you have a soul to save ?
Have you learned that Jesus died to
save you—that He bled on. the cruel
cross for your sins ? Yes, "He was
wounded for your transgressions." Have
you ever thanked Him for suffering
for you—for taking the punishment
you deserved? If you have not, what
a hard heart you must have ! I should
think you would want to get rid of it
as quickly as possible.
Do you know how you can do this ?
I will tell you. In Ezekiel xxxvi.
26, the Lord says : "A new heart will'
I give you, and a new spirit will I
put within you, and I will take away
the stony heart out of +your flesh, and
I will give yo-u-a h6a`rt-of flesh f' This
is what God is willing, for Jesus' sake,
to do. But you have something to do
too. You must "ask" Him for this
new heart, for in the thirty-seventh
verse of this same chapter, the Lord
saith : "I will for this be inquired of."
If you, my little reader, will go
away and ask God, for Jesus' sake, to
forgive you all your naughty sins,
and give you a new heart, he will do
it in a minute. And then, with the
writer of this sweet letter, you can
say, " I love so much to read and hear
about Jesus."
Do you know what is the greatest
sin you ever committed ? I fear you
will not believe me, if I tell you; but
it is quite true. I pray that God may
show you that the very worst thing
that you have ever done, has been to
neglect, and reject, and despise Jesus.
When this child saw how she had
been rejectincr b the dear Saviour, she
cried out, "OH, WHAT A WICKED GIRL
I HAVE BEEN TO REJECT JESUS I" And
when you come to see how you have
been treating Him who has been so
long knocking at the door of your
heart, you will feel so too. I hope
you may before you lay down this
paper. I
Oh, how strange that you should
rejeet One ,who loves you, and who
has done more for you than any friend
on earth! , I hope you will not do so
any more. Just fall into His loving
arms, and he will forgive you all your
sins, and make you a happy, obetlient
child.
But I think you had rather read the
words of one nearer your own age
than I ,am ; so I shall not keep you
longer from reading her note.
I think I have found the dear Saviour ;
feel so very happy. When I first began to
love Jesus I had .a great man doubts, and
often thought I did not love jeans; I was
almost in despair. When you came and
spoke to me and prayed with me, I began to
feel a little, a little better. The first time I
went to your meetings, I would not stay to
the inquiry meeting . but I went home quite
serious, and I prayed that night as I never
prayedbefore. After I thought I had found
the Saviour, I would ask myself, if I should
die would I go to heaven to be with Jesus ?"
Something would say no, and then yes. Oh
what a wicked girl I have been to reject Jesus,
what a loving Saviour he is. I do not see
how any one can reject Jesus. lam only
sorry I have not loved him before. I used to
say my prayers, but I did not pray with all
my heart. I love so much to read and hear
about Jesus ; I know I love Jesus, and I do
not believe any one could make me think "
did not." He is so full of love. • He loves
me now, and I hope I may never reject him,
but always cling to him. Before I know it,
I am singing " I love Jesus," " Happy day,
happy day, when Jesus washed my sins away,"
and ail aboatJesus, lam so happy. Ido believe
the way to be happy is "to love Jesus."
Pray that 1 may be kept in the narrow path
which leads to everlasting life; that I may
love Jesus more, and never go astray.
From your loving friend, ** •
* Copyright seen-red.
Away up in Farmington, in Maine,
more than two years ago, quite a num
ber of children were led by God's
Spirit to think about 'Jesus. I think
you will like to read a letter from a
boy there, who says :
"I FELT I WAS A GREAT SINNER."
I am pretty sure I saw this same
boy more than a thousand miles away
from the place where he first learned
to love Jesus, and heard him pray ear
nestly that God would help the little
children in that Western city to come
to Jesus and get new hearts, pat they
might be happy here, and go to heaven
when they die.
Did you know that Satan was a
great liar ? He is, for the Bible says
he is the "father of lies," and I know
he has told me a great many lies. He
no doubt told this boy, whose letter
you will read below, a great many
lies, such as: "You will not enjoy re
ligion, if you do become a Christian.
You will not love that musty old book,
the Bible. You will never love to
pray ; you will find it slow enough
work." But this boy must have foun d
him out to be a "liar," for he says, "I
love to pray, and I love to read my
Bible."
I am going to write and tell you how I
found Jesus. I went to the meeting the first
night you was here, not to be converted, but
only to hear you speak. Some of the boys
staid to the inquiry-meeting, and I thought I
would. You came and talked to me, and I
felt I was a great sinner, and Jesus my best
friend. That night I went home and prayed
to God to help me. The next morning I
argued the question, whether it was better to
be on the side of Jesus or not. But before I
got up I decided to cling to Jesus, and I
think I have found him. I think that I have
found him, for several reasons. I loye to
pray, and I love the Bible. lam pot ashamed
to be seen praying. One night, as I was
praying, I heard some one coming up the
stairs, and afraid of being seen upon my
knees, I jumped into bed, when only half
throuoh, and said the rest of them in bed.
Oh ! r pray that God will forgive me. We
have suelvlittle prayer-meetings among our
selves. Please to pray for us all, all those
that have found Jesus, and those that have
not found him. One of the persons who was
converted, said that his little daughter said to
her mother " that it seemed as it father had
just got home 'from a long journey," when
he commenced to have family prayer. Oh !
Mr. Hammond, I wish that you would pray
for my dear sister, because I think that she is
not a Christian.
The dear Jesus is very kind, and
says : "Ask, and ye shall receive."
Will you not, then, offer this prayer,
and He will hear and answer you.
Dear Jesus, I am very sorry that I
have been so wicked as not to love
Thee. Oh! how kind Thou hast been,
to die on the cross for a sinful child
like me. Help me by thy Spirit to
trust Thee with all my heart, and love
Thee, and work for Thee. Oh I I can
not help loving Thee when I think of
Thy great love for me. Take me,
"just as I am," and make me thine
forever. This I ask, Oh God, for
Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.
" See the kind ShepherdeJesus, stands
With all-engaging charms;
Hark ! how he calls,the tender lambs,
And folds them in his arms.
"Permit them to approach, he cries,
Nor scorn their humble name;
For 'twas to bless such souls as these,
The Lord of angels came.
"He'll lead us to the heavenly streams
Where living waters flow;
And guide us to the fruitful fields
Where trees of knowledge grow.
"The feeblest lamb amidst the flock
Shall be its Shepherd's care;
While folded in the Saviour's arms
We're safe from every snare."
Pula Kanung:
A SUCCESSFUL FARMER'S MAXIM - is.
Mr. Jacob Strawn, late of Jacksonville,
111., recently deceased, was known in the
West as " The Great American Far4ter."
He was accustomed to attributi his thrift
largely to his observance of a code of max
ima which he had early adopted. Among
them were the following
" When you wake up, do not roll over,
but roll out. give you time to ditch
all your sloughs, break them up, harrow
them, and sow them with timothy and red
clover. One bushel . of clover - to - two bush
els of timothy is enough.
" Make your fence high, tight, and
strong, so that it will keep cattle and pigs
out. If you have brush, make your lots
secure, and keep your hogs from the cattle,
for if the corn is clean they will eat it
better than if it is not.
"Be sure to get your hands to bed by
seven o'clock; they will rise .early by the
force of circumstances.
" Pay a hand, if he is a poor hand, all
you promise him : if he is a good hand r pay
him a little more; it will encourage hitu.to
do still better.
" Always feed your hands as well as you
do yourself, for the laboring Men are the
bone and sinew of the world, and ought to
be well treated.
"II am satisfied that getting up early,
4industry, and regular habits, are the best
medicines ever prescribed for health.
"When it comes rainy, bad weather, so
that you cannot work out of doors, cut and
split your wood.
"Make-your tracks when it rains hard,
cleaning your stables, or fixing something
which you would have to stop the plough
for and fix in good weather.
"Make your tracks, fixing your fence or
a gate that is off the hinges, or weather
boarding your barn where the wind has
blown off the siding, or patching the roof
of your house or . barn.
" Study your'interests closely, and don't
spend any time in electing Presidents, Sen
ators, and other small officers, or talk of
hard times when spending your time in
town, whittling on store-boxes, &c.
"Take your time arid make your calcu
lations; don't do things in a hurry, but do
them at•the right time, and keep your mind
us well as your body employed."
PUMPS.
An inquiry has reached us in reference
to a pump which may be available on farms,
and can be worked by a windmill and made
to force water from the spring to the house.
Our inquirer also wants a cistern pump
which will not freeze in the winter and get
out of order in summer. 1
Six years ago we placed one of West's
iron pumps, all iron, with irun pipe down
to the water, in a well in Westchester
County, where it has been in use every day
since, without one cent of expense , for re
pairs, and without ever having been stopped
in its operations by frost; and it has never
had any protection, except to pull out a
little pine plug in autumn, under the plat
form, which lets the water run out of the
staid; that leads the water to the spout.
Upon this spout we fasten a gutta-percha .
hose and pipe, and. -throw the water
wherever we choose to lead it, and the
pump might be driven by a windmill and
carry water all over the farm. Indeed, one
of our acquaintances, Mr. J. L Adams,
butter merch an t, New York, has just such
a pump operated by a windmill at Bloom
field, N. J., which rises the water ninety
feet, working t,) his entire satist'action
nearly four years. after having failed with
several others. lie thinks it the best, most
perfect pump in the world.
W. H. Lyon, near Bedford, Westchester
County, raises water with one of West's
pumps nearly two hundred feet" elevation.
It is driven by a water-wheel whigh he built
himself out of an old cart-wheel. It is
worth to him every year probably ten times
its cost.
We have no doubt that one of these
pumps, with its " lower air-chamber,"
would lift the water from a well thirty feet
deep, and draw it three or four hundred
feet horizontally.
So much for well pumps, and pumps to
bring up water from lower elevations by '
wind or water power.
Now about the cistern. Ours is fifteen
feet from the kitchen. The pump stands
close to the door, in a cold place, but it has
not ceased to operate a single day in six
years. The only trouble has been the want
of one new valve, and the repair of an air- el
hole in the gutta-percha pipe leading from
the pump to the cistern.
We do not know but there may be pumps
of forty other patterns and patents which
will do as well. We do know, and speak
whereof we know only, that the West pump
is all that any man ever requires—being
economical, durable, and efficient.—.N. Y. , 1
Tribune
SOAP-SUDS AND LEACHED ASHES.
A writer in the Germantown. (Pa.) Tele
graph says :—" The value of soap-suds as a
stimulant of. vegetable life cannot be too
highly appreciated. It contains the aliment
of plants in a state of ready solution, and,
when applied, acts not only with immediate
and obvious effect, but with a sustained -
energy which pertains to few even of the
most concentrated manures. When it is
not convenient to apply it in irrigation—the
most economical method, perhaps, of using
it—it should be absorbed by some material
which may be used as an ingredient in the
compost heap. Soda muck, and other
similar articles, should be deposited where
the suds from the sink and laundry may
find its way to them, and be• absorbed for
the benefit of crops. In this way several
loads of manure, suitable for the support
and sustenance of any crop, may be made
at comparatively small expense. The
highly putrescent character of this ferment
able liquid qualify it admirably for the
irrigation of compost heaps of whatever
material composed. Being a potent fertili- -
zer, it must, of necessity, impart additional
richness to almost any material to which it
may be added. Try it, and mark the re
sults."
Willard Griffin, West Granby, Ct., gives
the following information to the New York
Farmers' Clu, on leached ashes for manure:
" Some one of our correspondents severaltj
months since inquired if there was salt
petre in leached ashes. There is not. 1
Saltpetre is nitrate of potash. Nitric acid
is obtained from a substance that wood
does not furnish. If leached ashes are de
posited near the house, where soapsuds,
urine, and other slops containing animal
matter are thrown upon them, they will
contain saltpetre, and from such it may ''',
have been extracted. Wood ashes contain
potash, soda, magnesia and lime, besides
st
sulphur, phosphorus, carbon and common
salt; about ope-half of ashes is lime.
Leaching extracts the potash and sodsW
mostly, and but little of other matters; bn . -
as potash and soda are only a small propor
tion of ashes, they are nearly as good for
manure after leaching as before. I have 4
seen plum trees growing near a house,
where leached ashes were thrown around ~
them every year, that retained a vigorous
condition and were loaded with fruit for ..,
several years, while other trees in the
neighborhood were subject to the ravages
of the cumuli° and black knot."
• -.ow 41i,
DOES YOUR COW KICK?
Do not fly in a passion and vent yo
spite in kicking her in return, or by tan
ning her with a hickory gad. You w'
only run the risk of hurting your toes
spraining your ancle, or spoiling your other
wise tolerably good temper, and perhaps
give yourself cause to feel very foolish whe
you get over it. You will ' not hay
remedied the habit, if habit it has becom
in the cow; and if it is the first time, ver
likely such a course will cause her to con
tinue kicking until it has become a habi •
Keep cool, pay no attention to the kick
do not let the cow notice that you kno
she kicked; go to milking as if nothin!
had happened; and in nine cases out o
ten such a course will cause even old pra,
tical kickers to abandon the habit.- 0/e .
Farmer.
In addition to these excellent suggestion:
the milker should keep his finger nails en.
short, as they sometimes arc the cause of a
cow's kicking If the teats are tender, 47,,
cold weather, the dry wind will chap them..
Apply a little lard every day, after milking.*
If the hair on a cow's udder is long, clip i
off with shears, as the long hairs are some
times pulled so bard when milking, that
cow will kick.