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The Future Life.
BY WILLIAM 0. BRYANT.
now shall I know thee in the sphere which keeps
The disembodied spirits of the dead?
When all of thee that time could wither sleeps
And perishes among the dust we tread?
For I shall feel the sting of ceaseless pain
If there I meet thy gentle presence not,
Nor hear the voice I love, nor read again
In thy serenest eyes the tender thought.
Will not thy own meek heart demand me there—
That heart whose fondest throbs to me were
My name on earth was ever in thy prayer—
Shall it he banished from thy tongue in Heaven?
In meadows famed by Heaven's life-breathing
In the resplendenre of that glorious sphere,
And larger movements of the unfettered mind,
Wilt thou forget the love that joined us here?
The love that lived through all the stormy past,
And meekly with my harsher nature bore,
And deeply grew the tenderer to the 1.44
Shall it expire with life and be no morel
A happier lot than mine, and larger light
Await thee there, for thou halt bowed thy will
In cheerful homage to the rule of right,
And lcrrest all, and rendercst good for ill.
For me, the sordid cares in which I dwell,
Shrink and consume the heart, as heat the scroll;
And wrath has loft its scar—the fire of hell
Has left its frightful scar upon my soul.
Yet though thou wear'st the glory of the sky,
Wilt thou not keep the same beloved name,
The same fair, thoughtful brow and gentle eye,
Lovlier in Heaven's sweet climate, yet the
BY EPIS SARGENT.
The camp has had its day of song,
The sword, the bayonet, the plume
Has crowded out of rhyme too long
The plough, the anvil and the loom!
0, not upon our tented fields
Are freedom's heroes bred alone;
The training of the workshop yields .
More heroes true than War has known!
Who drives the bolt, who shapes the steal,
May, with a heart as valiant, smite,
And he who sees a foeman reel
In blood before his blow of might!
The skill that conquers space and time,
That graces life, that lightens toil,
May spring from courage more sublime
Than that which makes a relm its spoil.
Let labor, then, look np and see
Nis craft no path of honor lacks;
The soldier's rifle yet shall be
Less honored than the woodman's axe?
Let art his own appointment prize,
Nor deem that gold or outward height
Can compensate the worth that lie,
In tastes that breed their own delight.
And may the time draw nearer still
When men this sacred truth shall heed,
That from the thought and from the will
Must all that raises man proceed!
Though Pride should hold our calling low,
For us shall duty make it good:
And WA from truth to truth shall go,
Till life and death are understood.
Perhaps, far oat at sea, thou may'st have found
Some lean, bald cliff—a lonely patch of ground,
Alien amidst the waters—some poor isle
Where .ummer blooms were never known to smile,
Or trees to yield their verdure—yet around
That barren spot the dimpling surges throng,
Cheering it with their low and plaintive song,
And clasping the deserted cast-away
In a most strict embrace—and all along
Its margin rendering freely its array
Of treasured shell and coral. Thus we may
Note love in faithful woman: oft among
The rudest shocks of lil'a'c wide sea she shares
Man's lot, and snore than half the burden bears,
Around whose path are flowers strewn by her ton•
ant has hcen shrewdly said, that when men
abuse us, we should suspect ourselves, and when
they praise its, them. It is a rare instance of vir
tue to despise censure, which we do not deserve;
and still more rare, to despise praise, which do
deserve. But the integrity that lives only on
opinion, would starve without it; and that theatri
cal kind of virtue, which requires publicity fur its
stage, and en applauding world for its audience,
could not be depended on, in the secrecy of soli
tude, or the retirement of a desert.
slan'o cite the examples of history, in order to
animate us to virtue, or to arm us with fortitude,
is to call up the illustrious dead, to inspire and to
improve the living. But the usage of those civil
ians who cite vicious authorities, for worse pur
poses, and enforce the most absurd practice, by the
oldest precedent, is to bequeath to us as an heir.
loom, the error of our forefathers; to confer a kind
of immortality on folly, making the dead more
powerful titan time, and more sagacious than ex
perience, by subjecting those that are upon the
earth, to the perpetual mnl-government of those
that are beneath it.—Lacon.
art is singular how slippery s little brandy
and water will make the side-walks.
THE WISE SCHEIK.
IN the district of Ferdj' Onah, Algeria, (which
signifies Fine Country,) lives a Scheik, named
Bou-Akan-ben-Achour. He is also distinguished
by the surname of Bou-Djenoni (tbe Man of the
Knife,) and may be regarded as a type of the
Eastern Arab. His ancestors conquered Ferdj'
Onah, but he has been forced to acknowledge the
supremacy of France, by paying a yearly tribute
of eighty thousand francs. His dominion extends
from Milah to Raboutth, and from the southern
point of Babour to within two leagues of Gigelli.
He is forty-nine years old, and wears the Rabyle
costume; that is to say, a woollen gandottra, con
fined by a leathern belt. He carries a pair of pis
tols in his girdle, by his side the Rahyleflissa, and
suspended from his neck a small black knife.
Before him walks a negro, carrying his gun and
a huge greyhound bounds along by his side. He
holds despotic sway over twelve tribes; and should
any neighbouring people venture to make an ex
cursion into his territory, Bou-Akas seldom con
descends to march against them in person, but
sends his negro into the principal village. This ,
envoy just displays the gun of Bou-Akus, and the
injury is instantly repaired.
He keeps in pay two or three hundred Tolbas to
read the Koran to the people ; every pilgrim going
to Mecca, and passing through Ferdj' Onah, re
ceives three francs, and may remain es long ns
be pleases to enjoy the hospitality of Bon-Alms.—
But whenever the Scheik discovers that he has
been deceived by a pretended pilgrim, he immedi
ately despatches emissaries after the imposter
who, wherever ho is, find him, throw him down,
and give him fifty blows on the soles of his feet.
Bou-Akas sometimes entertains three hundred
persons at dinner; hut instead of sharing their re
past, he walks round the table with a baton in his
hand, seeing that the servants attend properly to
his guests. Afterwards, if anything is left, he
eats but not until the othent have finished.
When the Governor of Constantinople, the on
ly man whose power he recognises, sends him a
traveller, according to the rank of the latter, or the
nature of the recommendation, Mott-Akas gives
him his gun, his dog, or his knife. If the gun, the
traveller takes it on his shoulder; if the dog, he
leads it in a leash ; or if the knife he hangs it
round his sleek; and with any one of these potent
talismans, of which each bears its own degree of
honor, the stranger passes through the region of
the twelve tribes, not only unscathed, but, as the
guest of Bou-Akan; treated with the utmost hos
pitality. When the traveller is about to leave
Ferdj' Onah, he consigns the knife, the dog, or the
gun to the care of the first Arab he meets. If the
Arab is hunting, he leaves the chase ; if labouring l
in the field, ho leaves his plough ; and taking the
precious deposit, hastens to restore it to Bon-
The black-handled knife is so well known, that
it has given the surname of "Bon-Thenoni, the
Man of the Knife," to its owner. With this im ,
plement, be is accustomed to cut off heads, when
ever he takes a fancy to perfurm that agreeable
office with his own hand.
When first Bou-Akas assumed the government
the country was invested with robbers, but he
speedily found means to extirpate them. Ho dis
guised himself as a poor merchant; walked out,
and dropped a doors (a gold coin) on the ground,
taking care not to lose sight of it If the person
who happened to pick up the doors put it into his
pocket and passed on, Bou-Akas made a sign
to his china., (who followed him, also in disguise,
and knew the Scheik's will,) who rushed forward
immediately, and decapitated the offender.
In consequence of this summary way of admin
istering justice, it is a saying amongst the Arabs,
that a child might traverse the regions which own
Bon-Akas's sway, wearing a golden crown on his
head,without a single hand being stretched out to
The Scheik has great respect for women, and
has ordered that when the women of Pertly Onah
go out to draw water, every man who meets them
shall turn away his head.
Wishing one day to ascertain whether his com
mends were attended to, he went out in disguise;
and meeting a beautiful Arab maid on her way to
the well, apponehed and saluted her.
The girl looked at him with amazement and
"Pass on, stranger; thou knowest not the risk
thou bast run."
And when Bou-Akas persisted in speaking to
her, she added:—
" Foolish man, and reckless of your life ; know•
est thou not that we are in the country of Bon ,
Djenoni, who causes all women to he held in re.
Bou-Akas is very strict in his religious obser
vances; he never omits his prayers end ablutions,
and has four wives, the number permitted by the
Koran. Having heard that the Cadi of one of
his twelve tribes administered justice in an ad
mirable manner, and pronounced decisions in a
style worthy of King Solomon himself, Bou-Akas,
liken second Haround-Al-Raschid, determined to
judge for himself as to the truth of the report.
Accordingly, dressed like a private individual,
without arms or attendants, he set out for the
Cacti's town, mounted on a docile Ara Nan steed.
He arrived there, and was just entering the gate,
when a cripple, seizing the border of his burnous,
asked him for tiltnß in the name of the Prophet.—
800- Akas gave him money, but the cripple still
maintained his hold.
" What dost thou want?" asked the Scheik
—" 1 have already given thee alms."
"Yes," replied the beggar but the law says not
only—' Thou shalt give alms to thy brother,' hut
HUNTINGDON, PA., THURSDAY, JUNE 12, 1851.
also, . Thou shalt do for thy brother whatsoever
" Well ! and what can I do for thee?"
" Thou canst save me—poor crawling creature
that I am—from being trodden under the feet of
men, horses, mules and camels, which would cer
tainly happen to me in passing through the crowd
ed square, in which a fair is now going on."
" And how can I save thee I"
" By letting the ride behind thee, and putting
me down safely in the market-place, where I have
"Be it so," replied Bou-Akas. And stooping
down, he helped the cripple to get up behind him;
a business which was not accomplished without
The strangely-assorted riders attracted many
eyes as they passed through the crowded streets;
and at length they reached the market-place.
"Is this where you wish to stop?" asked Bou-
y es. ”
"Then get down."
" Get down yourself."
" What for?"
"To leave mo the horse."
"To leave you my horse ! What mean you
"I mean that he belongs to me. Know you
not that we are now in the town of the just Cadi,
and that if we bring the case before him he will
certainly decide in my favour 2"
"Why should he do so, when the animal belongs
to me ?"
"Don't you think that when he mes us two—
you with your strong, straight limbs, which Allah
has given you for the purpose of walking, and I
wills my weak legs and distorted feet—he will de
cree that the horse should belong to him who has
most need of it 1"
" Should ho do so, he would not bo the just
Cadi," said Bon. Akas.
"Oh! as to that," replied the cripple laughing,
"although he is just, he is not infallible."
" So!" thought the Seheik to himself, "this will
be a capital opportunity of judging the judge."—
He said aloud, "I am content—we will go before
Arrived at the tribunal, where the judge, ac
cording to the Eastern custom, was publicly ad
ministering justice, they found that two trials
were about to go on, and would of course take
precedence of theirs.
The first was between a Web, or learned man,
and a peasant. The point in dispute was the ha
lab's wife, whom the peasant had carried off, and
whom he asserted to be his own better half, in the
face of the philosopher, who demanded her res
The woman, stooge circumstance ! remained
obstinately silent, and would not declare for either;
a feature in the case which rendered its decision
excessively difficult. The judge heard both sides
attentively, reflected for a moment, end then said:
" Leave the woman here, and return to-morrow."
The savant and the laborer each bowed and re
tired, and the next cause was called.
This was a difference between a butcher and en
oil-seller. The latter appeared, covered with oil,
and the former was sprinkled with blood.
The butcher spoke first:—
"I went to buy some oil from this mon, and in
order to pay him for it, I drew a handful of mon
ey from my purse. The sight of the money temp
ted him. He seized me by the wrist. I cried out,
but lie would not let me go; and hero we are, har
ing come before your worship, I holding my mon
ey in my hand, and he still grasping my wrist.—
Now I swear by the Prophet, that this man is a
liar, when he says that I stole his money, for the
money is truly mine own."
Then spoke the oil-merchant:—
"This man came to purchase oil from me.—
When his bottle was filled, he said, ' Have you
change for a piece of gold?' I searched my pocket,
and drew out my hand full of money, which I laid
on a bench in my shop. lle seized it, and was
walking off with my money and my oil, when I
caught him by the wrist, and cried out, 'Robber!'
In spite of my cries, however, he would not sur
render the money, so I brought him here, that
your worship might decide the case. Now, I swear
by the Prophet that this man is a liar, when he
says that I want to steal his money, for it is truly
The Cadi caused each plaintiff to repent his
story, hut neither varied one jot from his original
statement. He reflected for a moment, and then
said, "Leave the money with me and return to
The butcher placed the coins, which he had
never let go, on the edge of the Cadre mantle.—
After which, he and his opponent bowed to the
tribunal, and departed.
It was now the turn of Bon-Akas and the crip
"My lord Cadi," said the former, "I came
hither from a distant•country, with the intention
of purchasing merchandise. At the city gate I
met this cripple, who asked first for alm, and
then prayed me to allow him to ride behind me
through the streets, last he should be trodden
down by the crowd. I consented, but when we
reached the market-place, he refined to get down,
asserting that my horse belonged to him, and that
your worship would surely adjudge it tohim who
wanted it most. That nty lord Cadi, is precisely
the state of the case—l swear it, by Mahomet!"
"My lord," said the cripple, "as I was coming
on business to the market, and riding this horse,
which belongs to me, I saw thisman seated by the
road-side, apparently half dead from fittigno. I
good-naturedly offered to take him upon the crup
per, and lot him ride as far as the market-place,
and he eagerly thanked me. But what was my
astonishment, when, on our arrival, he refused to
get down, and said that my horse was his. I im
mediately required him to appear before your wor
ship, in order that you might decide between us.
'flint is the true state of the case—l swear it, by
Having made each repeat his deposition, and
having reflected for a moment, the Cadi mid,
"Leave the horse here, nod return to-morrow."
It was done, and Bou-Akns and the cripple
withdrew, in different directions. On the morrow,
a number of persons besides those immediately in
terested in the trials, assembled to hear the judge's
The taleb and the peagent were called first.
" Take away thy wife," said the Cadi to the
former, "and keep her, I advise thee, in good or
Then, turning towards his china., he added,
pointing to the peasant, " Give this. man fifty
He was instantly obeyed, and the Caleb carried
off his wife.
Then came forward the oil-merchant and the
"Here,' said the Cocdi . to the butcher, "is thy
money; it is truly thine, and not his." Then
pointing to the oil-merchant, ho said to his chi
sous, "Give this man fifty blows."
It was done, and the tutted= went away in tri
umph with his money.
The third-cause was called, and Bon-Akan and
the cripple came forward.
"Would'st thou recognise thy horse amongst
twenty others ?" said the judge to Buu-Akan.
" Yes my lord,"
" Certainly my lord," replied the cripple.
"Follow me," said the Cadi to Bou-Akas.
They entered a large stable, and Bon-Akas
pointed out his horse amongst twenty which were
standing side by side.
""Fis well," said the judge. "Romrn now to
the tribunal, and send me thine adversary hither."
The disguised Scheik obeyed,delivered his mes
sage, and the cripple hastened to the stable, as
quickly as his distorted limbs allowed. Ile pos
sessed quick eyes and a good memory, so that he
was able, without the slightest hesitation, to pluses
his hands on the right animal.
" 'Tis well," said the Cudi ; " return to the tri
His worship resumed his place, and when the
cripple arrived, judgement was pronounced.
" The horse is thine," said the Cadi to Bon-
Akas. .Co to the stable and take him." Then
to the china.," Give this cripple fifty Mows."
It was done; and Bou-Akas went to take his
When the Cadi, after concluding the business
of the day, was retiring to his house, he found
Bou-Akas waiting fur him.
"Art thou discontented with my award 1" ask-
ea the judge.
" No, quite the contrary," replied the Scheik.—
"But I want to ask by what inspiration thou host
rendered justice ; for I doubt not that the other
two cases were decided as equitably its mine. I
am not a merchant; I am Boa-Akan, Scheik of
Ferdj' Onah, and I wanted to judge for myself of
thy reputed wisdom."
Tho Cadi bowed to the ground, and kissed his
" I am anxious," said lion-Akas, "to know the
reasons which determined your three decisions."
"Nothing, my lord, can ho more simple. Your
highness saw that I detained for a night the three
things in dispute 7"
" I did."
" Well early in the morning I canoed the wo
man to be called, and I said to her suddenly, 'Put
fresh ink into my inkstand.' Like a person who
had done the same thing a hundred times before,
she took the bottle, removed the cotton, washed
them both, put in the cotton again, and poured in
fresh ink, doing it all with the utmost neatness and
dexterity. So I sold to myself A peasant's wife
would know nothing about inkstands—she must
belong to the "
" Good," said Bou-Akan, nodding big head.—
" Anil the money 1"
"Did your highness remark that the merchant
had his clothes and hands covered with oil h"
"Certainly, I did."
" Well ; I took the money, and placed it in a
vessel filled with water. This morning I looked
at it, and not a particle of oil was to bo seen on.
the surface of the water. So I said to myself,' If
this money belonged to the oil-merchant it would
be greasy, from the touch of his hand us it is not
so, the butcher's story must be true.'"
Bou-Akan nodded, in token of approval.
" Good," said he. "And my horse 1"
" ! that was a different business; and until
this morning, I was gently puzzled."
The cripple, I suppose, did not recognise the
" On the contrary, he pointed him out imme•
"How then did yon discover that ho was not
"My object in bringing you separately to the
stable, was not to nee whether you would know
the horse, but whether the borne would acknowl
edge you. Now, when you approached him, the
creature turned toper& you, laid hack his ears,
and neighed with delight; but when the cripple
touched him, ho kicked. Then I knew thut you
were truly his master."
Bon-Akan thought for a moment, and then said:
Allah haw ghen thee great Thou
ongliteo to be in my place, 11111 i lin thine. And
yet, I know not; thou art certainly worthy to he
Schcik, but I fear that I should hut badly fill thy
place as Cadi l"
How to do it.
There is nothing to be gained in dangling for a
twelve month after a sensible woman, talking un
meaning stuff—words without wisdom. Tell her
your wish like a man, and not like a blubbering
schoolboy. She will never trifle with your affec
tions; and if there are three grains of common
sense in your muckle carcass, she will he your
own before a month has passed. See the history
of Rebecca, in Genesis, 54th chapter, 57th verse.
When Abraham's servant had conchided the pre
liminary arrangements with Mrs. Lahan, on the
part of her daughter, to become the wife of Isaac,
the old man was anxious to get home, to show his
young master the bonny lass he bad brought with
him; the mother asked him to remain a few days,
to recruit himself and his camels. He persisting,
it was finally referred to the daughter. 'We will
call the damsel, and inquire at her mouth,' said
the mother. When Rebecca appeared, her moth
er asked—'Wilt thou go with this man?' Rebec
ca replied—'l will go.' There was a noble girl
for you. No tear starting from her black eyes;
no whining, nor simpering make-believe, nor
mock modesty; but what her heart wished, her
lips tittered. Like an honest maiden, she replied,
'I will go.' Now young ladies, go and do like
wise. When the man whom you prefer be all
others in the world, says, 'Will you go with me?'
answer, will go.' By-the-bye, ladies, when
you wish to read a true, simple and unsophistica
ted lore story, just read over the twenty-fourth
chapter of Genesis.
Flavoring Ice Cream,
Ina neighboring town, during "Court week,"
a goodly company was assembled at a public din
ner table, and among them a wag whom we may
rail Dr. Blank, and a country "gentleman of the
jury." The doctor despised ice cream, and the ju
ryman not knowing what it was, looked at the
doctor when the article came on, to see how he
would dispose of it. The latter perceiving that
his neighbor was in a doubtful state of mind, took
some cream upon his plate, smoothed off the top,
covered with black pepper, and made a hole in the
centre and poured in sonic vinegar. The stran
ger reached over the caster, and obtaining the
condiments, did likewise. He then took a spoon
ful of the prepared article into his mouth, gave
one look around the table, and "cut." The com
pany of course could all say with the victim "ice
WThe first consideration with a knave is how
to help himself, and the second, how to do it with
an appearance of helping you. Dionysius, the
tyrant, stripped the statute of Jupiter Olympus of
a robe of massy gold, and substituted a cloak of
wool, saying—gold is too cold in winter, and too
heavy in summer; it behooves us to take care of
Over 30,000 emigrants from foreign countries,
arrived in New York during the last month, and
about 50,000 in the United States within the
same period. A number of these new corners are
persons of the right stamp, hard-working, thrifty
people, who will make good citizens in a few
years to come. By firer the larger portion, how
ever, are direct from the poor-houses and work
houses of Europe or pauper residents upon the im
mense landed estates in Ireland, who are sent
over here by the proprietors in order to get them
out of the way, and be freed from the burden of
their support. Many of those aro sick, maimed,
and blind—totally unqualified by education or
physical ability to support themselves—and arc
landed on our shores without the means to pro
or ability to earn, even the•common neces
series of life. They fill one alms-honses, swarm in
our cities and towns, and infest the most remote
rural districts—a burden to the entire communi
ty. It is high time a stop woo pia to the influx of
so miserable a population. Congress should take
the matter in hand, and adopt stringent measH
ores for the resistance of an imposition fraught
with so bad results. Europe, whose political in
stitutions are so well calculated to make paupers,
should he compelled to support them at home.—
This is one of her mangfactures that the United
States can well dispense with.
George Washington, when young, was about
to go to sea as a midshipman; everything was ar
ranged, the vessel lay opposite his father's house,
the little boat had come on shore to take him ntr,
and his whole heart was bent on going. After
his trunk had been carried down to the host, lie
went to hid his mother Ihrewell, and saw the tears
bursting from her eyes. However he said noth
ing to her; hut ho saw that his mother would he
distressed Hite went, and perhaps never be happy
again. He just turned round to the servant and
said, "Go and tell them to fetch my trunk back.
I will not go away to break my mother's heart."
His mother was struck with his decision, and she
said to him, "George, God has promised to bless
the children that honor their parents, and I be
lieve He will bless you."
Coor..—A few days since, a good old lady of
this village, meeting a farmer in the street on
load of hay, inquired of hint if it was for sale; on
being answered in the affirmative, she requested
hint to turn his team around and drive to her hus
band's barn-yard, some quarter of a mile distant.
Her request was complied with; and after the
harp-yard wan reached, the old Indy informed the
teamster that she wanted a cenro worth of hay Ar
hen's nests, and that while he was throwing it off
she would step into the house and get the change!
State Agricultural Fair
To the P. epic , of Pennsylvania
It will not be forgotten that the State Agricul
tural Society of Pennsylvania has fixed Harris
burg as the place, and the 23d, 24th and 25th of
October next, as the time for their Annual Exhi
bition. There is no State in the Union whose
climate, soil, and the habits of whose people af
ford more ample resources than our own for a
creditable exhibition of their skill and industry•.
There is nothing raised, grown or manufactured
upon the Ewe of the earth, which is not more or
less interesting in the study and science of Agri
culture. The Farmer, the Horticulturist, the
Inventor, the Mechanic, are all cordially and ear
nestly invited to contribute and partake in the in
terest which will he excited by the occasion; and
especially do we invite the aid, countenance and
presence of our mothers end daughters, upon
whose handywork and good example we are so
dependent for all the domestic comforts of life.
Arrangements are now being made for enclo
sing the grounds, and providing separate and safe
places for all animals and articles which shall be
presented for exhibition. All the canals and rail
ways of the State will be open free of charge for
their transportation to Harrisburg; and visitors
will come and go on them at one half the usual
The young men of the State are reminded that
the Ploughing Match will afford them an oppor
tunity for the display of their skill, the training
of their teams and the fitness of their implements.
While we address this communication to the
people of our State, it will not be understood that
it is designed to exclude the citizens of other
States; much less to avoid the honorable compati
thm which their contributions may afford. Now
is the time to prepare. By direction of the Ex
President of the Stale Agricwtural Society
Carlisle, May 28, 1851.
Some years ago a great deal was said in favor
of raising roots for stock, and many farmers were
into the business to a large extent. They did not
all realize their ardent expectations, and some
have abandoned raising roots altogether. Others
raise them, and with a profit, as they consider.
There is no doubt that the value of root crops
have been over estimated by some, while others
consider them unprofitable without having made
a fair experiment. Some farmers who are situa
ted near a market, prefer feeding their cows on
Indian meal, shorts, and oil cake, to raising roots
fur them; and in such places it might be more
profitable to raise vegetables fur market than to
raise roots for cows, while other good food for
them may be conveniently obtained at a moder
But in the interior, where meal, grain, oil-cake,
Ste., nre higher, we believe that many farmers
will find it profitable to raise roots for stock.
They are good for working cattle, growing cattle
and mulch cows; also for horses, sheep and swine.
With roots, young cattle may ho fed on coarse
fodder, and kept in a thriving condition in winter,
and they will be less liable to disease than if led on
dry fodder. Working cattle will be more healthy
if allowed a moderate portion of roots. Melt
cows fed partially on roots, will give more milk,
and if the roots are of the right kind, the milk will
be rich, and they will be less liable to disease
titan when fed on other food. Horses are kept in
better condition, in winter, when fed partially on
roots, instead of wholly on groin and meal, with
the exception of hay. Sheep sutler much in win
ter from being kept so long from the ground, and
meal and grain are no good substitutes for green.
food. Roots are better to keep them in good con
Animals arc in the most thriving state when
feeding on green herbage; and roots afford them
a succulent food in winter resembling the green
food of summer, or at least it is the best substi
tute for it.
A great objection to raising root crops is the
expense in weeding, and this applies particularly
to carrots, from the large number of plants that
are necessary. But this objection may be obvia
in n great measure, by beginning in season,
and preparing and manuring the ground, late in the
fall or early in the spring, and stirring it occasion
ally in spring, as the weeds start up, until the time
of sowing, and soaking the seeds, and allowing
them to remain in is moist state, till almost ready
to sprout, and then sow on a fine freshly stirred
soil, and the plants will start before the weeds,
and the weeding will cast but a trifle, compared
with the old method. In this way a piece of car
rets may be hoed with one-fourth the usual ex
pense.—N. E. Farmer.
The difficulty of obtaining line crops of this
root, on clayey soils, has often been noticed. A
neighbor succeeds finely in all cases by the fol
lowing modes--Ho spreads old straw over the sur
face, and burns it, which destroys the insects, im
plores the soil, and gives it a coating of ashes;
then sows his seed. A good crop always results.
A good crop of turnips may often he had, with al
most no cost, by sowing the seed among potatoes
at the time the latter receive their last hoeing.
e'lf improved horses, cattle, sheep, swine,
and poultry were generally reared throughout the
country, it would add several millions anuuallz
to the value of our sgricultuket products.