Chapter X: Preface: To the First Edition (10)

We prefer _buying_ our seed to _raising_ it. In this region the pea-bug pierces every seed-pea, and, although the germ is not usually destroyed by this depredator, the seed is weakened, and the certainty of growth very much diminished. If one _must_ plant buggy peas, let them have _scalding_ water poured upon them and turned off again immediately. The bug will be destroyed and the pea not injured.

When peas are up they require but one or two hoeings, as they soon shade the ground so as to prevent weeds from growing. They should be well supplied with brush, strongly set in the ground. When peas are allowed to fall over, they become mildewed and rot. This also happens when the rows are planted so near together as to prevent free circulation of air.

When large quantities of peas are desired they should be sown broad-cast, at the rate of about three bushels to the acre—more rather than less. It leaves the land in fine tilth, smothering all weeds. Thirty bushels to the acre is a fair crop; but eighty-four, and eighty-eight, have been taken.

* * * * *

AUTUMN-PLANTED ONIONS.—Onions for seed should be planted in October; and, like their more brilliant, but less perfumed, friends of the tulip and hyacinth connections, they will thoroughly root themselves during the autumn and mild winter weather, and be ready for early work, the moment the frost rises from the ground.

PLANT SHADE-TREES.

We would suggest to the editors of newspapers the propriety of establishing in their columns a permanent agricultural department. We are much pleased to see that many excellent papers are doing it, and that others insert occasional articles. Great advantage cannot fail to accrue to our town and rural population by putting into their hands every week, able articles from practical farmers and gardeners upon the various topics of agriculture and horticulture. Let every paper urge the setting out of shade-trees in our villages. It is greatly to be desired, that all our towns should be filled with elms, maples, ashes, locusts, etc. The cultivation of fruit may be much encouraged and promoted by a frequent republication of articles on that subject. The gardens and conservatories of a few very wealthy gentlemen do not constitute a horticultural community. They are of great use in the procuration and cultivation of new varieties of plants, and in testing important matters by expensive experiments. But affluent men and their pleasure grounds are to horticulture, what universities are to common schools; that State is best educated whose _whole_ population are the most thoroughly trained; and that is _the_ horticultural State, _all_ of whose villages, towns, farms, and gardens, are in the highest state of cultivation.

Our desire is to diffuse a love for rural affairs, husbandry, and horticulture among the whole mass of the community.

* * * * *

WEEDS IN ALLEYS.—It is said that weeds may be entirely destroyed for years by copious watering with a solution of lime and sulphur in boiling-hot water. This, if effectual, will be highly important to such as have garden gravel walks, pavements, etc., through which grass and weeds grow up.

HOT-BEDS.

After a little practice any one can make and manage a simple hot-bed. For a common family one twelve by four feet will be large enough, and nine by four will answer for a small family. _Frame._—The frame should be made of two-inch stuff (pine or poplar). The back must be as high again as the front, in order to give the right inclination to the sash. The ends should be nailed fast to corner posts, say four inches square. The back and front are to be attached to those parts by iron bolts, which may be screwed or unscrewed at pleasure. The frame may be taken to pieces, if so made, and put away during the season it is not in use. A frame twelve by four, will take four sash of three feet wide, the other sized frame will take three sash. Where the sash meet, a piece of wood three inches broad and two thick, should be let in from back to front, for the sash to run upon, and it may be allowed to extend back for two feet beyond the body of the frame. Three coats of paint should be put on the outside and inside of the frame, and then, with good care, it will last twenty years. Mark out the ground six inches larger every way than your frame. Dig it out a foot deep. Take fresh, strong horse-dung. Shake it up and mix it thoroughly. Lay it into the bed evenly, beating it down with the back of the fork, _but never treading it_. Raise the bed three feet above the surface, making the thickness in all four feet. In a week’s time this will have settled six or eight inches. We have for the sake of a gentler and longer continued heat, laid alternate layers of manure and _tan-bark_, and thus far it has done well with us. Put on the frame and sash and let it stand till the heat begins to raise, which will be two or three days. Then raise the sash to let the steam pass off. In about four days take off the frame, put on about six inches of light, good soil, evenly, all over the bed; replace the frame, and in a day thereafter it will be ready for seed.

Cabbage, cauliflower, tomatoes, egg plants, peppers, celery, cucumbers, lettuce, together with savory herbs, as sweet marjoram, sweet basil, thyme, sage, lavender, etc., etc. may be sown in drills in the soil prepared as above.

It is difficult to give, on paper, the directions for the care of the bed. The greatest dangers of all, are that of _burning_ the plants by excessive heat, or of damping them off, by too little air. These evils must be guarded against by the admission of as much air as possible. In mild days let the sash be partly open all day, and in very cold days, endeavor to procure a half hour even, at mid-day, for raising the sash and airing the plants. As they grow up, if crowded, they should be thinned out, so as not to run up spindling.

ORIGINAL RECIPES.

When we say _original_, we don’t mean that no one ever employed the same recipes, but only this, that we have obtained them, not from books, but from good and skillful housewives.

EPICURE’S CORN BREAD.—Upon two quarts of sifted corn-meal, pour just enough boiling water to scald it thoroughly; if too much water is used it will be heavy. Stir it thoroughly, let it get cold; then rub in a piece of butter as large as a hen’s egg, together with two teaspoonfuls of fine salt; beat four eggs thoroughly, and they will be all the better if the whites and yolks are beaten separately, add them to the meal and mix thoroughly. Next, add a pint of sour cream, or butter-milk, or sour milk (which stand in the order of their value). Dissolve two teapoonfuls of saleratus in hot water, and stir it in. Put it in buttered pans and bake it.

In winter, it may be mixed over night and in that case, the eggs and saleratus should not be put in until morning. When ready for the oven, the mixture ought to be about as thin as good _mush_, and if not, more cream should be added.

If you are not an epicure already, you will be in danger of becoming one, if you eat much of this corn cake—_provided it is well made_.

SUGAR GINGER-BREAD.—To three-quarters of a pound of butter and not quite a pint of finely rolled brown sugar, add a great spoonful of ginger, and a little cinnamon and nutmeg; beat these up to a foam; beat four eggs thoroughly and add and mix well, with the butter and sugar. Add a teacup of rich cream, a great spoonful of saleratus dissolved in hot water. Stir in sifted flour as long as it can be worked. Pound and knead the dough very thoroughly. Roll out quite thin, cut into small cakes, bake in a quick oven. They will be hard, but tender and crisp.

HOOSIER BISCUIT.—Add a teaspoonful of salt to a pint of new milk, warm from the cow. Stir in flour until it becomes a stiff batter; add two great spoonfuls of lively brewer’s yeast; put it in a warm place and let it rise just as much as it will. When well raised, stir in a teaspoonful of saleratus dissolved in hot water. Beat up three eggs (two will answer), stir with the batter, and add flour until it becomes tolerable stiff dough; knead it thoroughly, set it by the fire until it begins to rise, then roll out, cut to biscuit form, put in pans, cover it over with a thick cloth, set by the fire until it rises again, then bake in a quick oven. If well made, no directions will be needed for eating.

As all families are not provided with scales and weights, referring to the ingredients generally used in cakes and pastry, we subjoin a list of weights and measures.

WEIGHT AND MEASURE.

Wheat flour one pound is one quart.
Indian meal one pound two ounces, is one quart.
Butter, when soft one pound one ounce, is one quart.
Loaf-sugar, broken, one pound is one quart.
White sugar, powdered, one pound one ounce, is one quart.
Best brown sugar one pound two ounces, is one quart.
Eggs ten eggs are one pound.

LIQUID MEASURE.

Sixteen large tablespoonfuls are half a pint
Eight large tablespoonfuls are one gill.
Four large tablespoonfuls are half a gill.
A common sized tumber holds half a pint.
A common sized wine glass holds half a gill.

Allowing for accidental differences in the quality, freshness, dryness, and moisture of the articles, we believe this comparison between weight and measure to be as nearly correct as possible.

COOKING VEGETABLES.

While we believe meat to be necessary to laboring men, we are equally sure that it is used to excess; for persons of a sedentary habit, vegetable diet is supposed to be much more wholesome, because much less stimulating than meat. Whatever shall make vegetables more relishful will extend their popular use, and therefore any _simple_ recipe for cooking them is a public good. The following are taken fresh from the kitchen, and we will vouch for their being good, although there may be other ways still better.

1. GREENS.—The articles employed for greens are numerous; we merely mention the following:—sprouts of turnip and cabbage, dandelions, lamb’s quarters, red-rooted plantain, cowslip, wild pepper-grass, purslain, young beet-tops, lettuce, and spinage—the best of all greens.

In gathering plantain, care must be taken to select _only_ the red-rooted, the white being thought poisonous. With the exception of spinage, all these should be boiled in salted water, or in water with a piece of salt pork, for half an hour, then taken out, drained, and served up with butter gravy.

Spinage is boiled, as above, for half an hour, then taken out, thoroughly drained, put into a skillet with cream, butter and pepper, and if need be, a little more salt. Place it over the fire and stir it up with a knife all the time it simmers, until it becomes a paste. About five minutes are enough for this last process—then dish and serve it.

2. ASPARAGUS.—Asparagus should never be cut _below the surface of the ground_, although books and papers, almost universally, direct to the contrary. The white part of the stem is always tough and inedible. Let it spring up about six or eight inches and then cut it _at_ the surface of the ground. Lay it in the pan or kettle in which it is to be cooked, and sprinkle salt over it. Pour boiling water over it, until it is just covered; boil from fifteen to twenty-five minutes, according to the age of the asparagus. Have two or three nicely toasted slices of bread in the dish which is to go to the table; lay the asparagus upon the toast, putting first sweet butter and pepper upon it according to your taste; lastly pour over it the liquor in which it was boiled. Many throw away the water in which it was cooked and substitute cream and butter, but thereby the finest flavor of the vegetable is thrown away and lost.

3. BEETS.—While young, beets may be boiled tops and all; as the tops get tough the root alone is boiled in salted water until tender, viz. from three-quarters of an hour to an hour and a half; according to the size of the beet. Quarter or slice them if large, and add fresh sweet butter and pepper.

4. PEAS.—No vegetable depends more for its excellence upon good cooking than peas. Have them freshly gathered and shelled, _but never wash them_. If they are not perfectly clean, roll them in a dry cloth; but even this is seldom required, and then only through carelessness. Pour them dry into the cooking dish, and put as much salt over them as is required, then pour on boiling water enough to cover them; boil them fifteen minutes if they are young; no pea is fit to cook which requires more than half an hour’s boiling. When done, put to a quart of peas three great tablespoonfuls of butter, and pepper to your taste. Put all the water to them in which they were boiled. The great mistakes in cooking peas are in cooking too long, and in deluging them with water.

STRING or SNAP beans are cooked like peas, only they require longer boiling.

5. CORN should be boiled in salted water from twenty to thirty minutes, according to its age; if boiled longer it becomes hard and loses its flavor. We have given in the _Western Farmer and Gardener_, p. 231, a recipe for corn and beans, but as all may not see that periodical, we extract the substance of it.

We give directions for a mess sufficient for a family of six or seven.

To about half a pound of salt pork put three quarts of cold water; let it boil. Now cut off three quarts of green corn from the cobs, set the corn aside and put _the cobs_ to boil with the pork, as they will add much to the richness of the mixture. When the pork has boiled, say half an hour, remove the cobs and put in one quart of freshly-gathered, green, shelled beans; boil again for fifteen minutes; then add the three quarts of corn and let it boil another fifteen minutes. Now turn the whole out into a dish, add five or six large spoonfuls of butter, season it with pepper to your taste, and with salt also, if the salt of the pork has not proved sufficient. If the liquor has boiled away, it will be necessary to add a little more to it before taking it away from the fire, as this is an essential part of the affair.

6. SALSIFY OR OYSTER-PLANT.—This vegetable is raised exactly as are carrots and parsnips. Like the latter—they require a little frosting before their flavor is fully developed.

They should be scraped and washed (but _not_ soaked in vinegar, as English cooks direct, to extract a bitter taste, which they do _not_ contain), and sliced; sprinkle enough salt upon them to season them, pour on just enough boiling water to cover them; boil till perfectly tender, which will be, say fifteen minutes. Put butter and pepper to them; stir up a little flour in cream to make a thin paste and pour in enough to thicken a little the water in which they were boiled. Dish with or without toasted bread, as may suit the taste.

7. TOMATOES.—The recipe which we gave in the _Farmer and Gardener_ has been universally copied, and, we believe, has beguiled thousands to the love of tomatoes. It has been introduced to cook-books under the name of “Indiana Recipe for Cooking Tomatoes.”

8. ONIONS should be boiled for half an hour in salted water, then drained, put into sweet milk, boiled again for five or ten minutes, seasoned with butter, pepper and salt, and served up.

9. PIE-PLANT.—This important vegetable—among the earliest, the most wholesome, and of the easiest culture—should be found in every garden, and served up on every table during the spring and early summer. To prepare it for use, strip off the skin, slice it thin, put into a dish with a few spoonfuls of boiling water, just enough to keep from sticking, for its own juice will afford liquid enough after it is cooked. Boil until it is perfectly tender, stirring it constantly. If the plant is good and the fire quick, it ought to be boiled in five minutes. Stir in all the sugar needed while it is in a scalding state. A little nutmeg or lemon peel, put in while it is hot, improves the flavor. When cool, it may be used for tarts, or pies, with or without upper crust; it also makes a better _apple_-sauce than apples do themselves.

10. EGG-PLANT.—Boil in salted water a few minutes; cut slices, put a little salt between each slice, and let them lie for half an hour. Then fry them in butter or lard until they are brown.

11. CAULIFLOWER AND BROCCOLI.—The only difference between these, so far as the cook is concerned, is in color. Take off the outside leaves and soak them for an hour in salted water. Pour boiling water to them and boil for about twenty minutes. Serve them up with butter and pepper. The Savoy cabbages are next in delicacy of flavor to the cauliflower, and may be cooked in the same way.

FARMERS, TAKE A HINT.

It is very surprising to see how slow men are to take a hint. The frost destroys about half the bloom on the fruit-trees; everybody prognosticates the loss of fruit; instead of that, the _half_ that remains is larger, fairer, and higher flavored than usual; and the trees instead of being exhausted, are ready for another crop the next year. Why don’t the owner _take the hint_ and thin out his fruit every bearing year? But no; the next season sees his orchard overloaded, fruit small, and not well formed; yet he always _boasts_ of that first-mentioned crop without profiting by the lesson it teaches.

We heard a man saying, “the best crop of celery I ever saw, was raised by old John ——, on a spot of ground where the wash from the barn-yard ran into it after every hard shower.” Did he take the hint, and convey such liquid manure in trenches to his garden? Not at all; he bragged about that wonderful crop of celery, but would not take the hint.

We knew a case where a farmer subsoiled a field and raised crops in consequence which were the admiration of the neighborhood; and for years the field showed the advantage of deep handling. But we could not learn that a single farmer in the neighborhood took the hint. The man who acted thus wisely, sold his farm and his successor pursued the old way of surface-scratching.

A stanch farmer complained to us of his soil as too loose and light; we mentioned ashes as worth trying; “well, now you mention it, I believe it will do good. I bought a part of my farm from a man who was a wonderful fellow to save up ashes, and around his cabin it lay in heaps. I took away the house and ordered the ashes to be scattered, and to this day I notice that when the plow runs along through that spot, the ground turns up moist and close-grained.” It is strange that he never took the hint! There are thousands of bushels of ashes lying not far from his farm about an old soap and candle factory with which he might have dressed his whole farm.

A farmer gets a splendid crop of corn or grain from off a grass or clover lay. Does he take the hint? Does he adopt the system which shall allow him every year just such a sward to put his grain on? No, he hates book-farming, and scientific farming, and “this notion of rotation;” and jogs on the old way.

A few years ago our farmers got roundly into debt; and they have worried and sweat under it, till some of them have grown greyer, and added not a few wrinkles to their face. Do they take the hint? Are they not pitching into debt again?

A few years ago _mules_ commanded a high price; everybody raised mules forthwith; the market of course was glutted; the price fell; everybody quit the business; markets became empty and the price rose; a few men who had stuck to the business pushed in their droves and made money; and now everybody is raising mules again. The same game is played every four or five years with pork; men make when pork is scarce, but few farmers have stock on hand. They instantly rush into the business, flood the country with hogs and get almost nothing for them. Why don’t men take the hint? _A moderate stock all the time_, makes more money than that system which has none when the price is high and too many when the price is low.

Because one year, the wheat crop has been very large and fine, and the price low, not half so much will be put in another year. Those who are wise, foreseeing this fact and sowing largely, will, if the season favors wheat, reap a handsome profit.

Auctioneers tell us that a “wink is as good as a word.” We give both, and hope our readers will _take the hint_.

MIXING PAINT, AND LAYING IT ON.

It is convenient, and oftentimes, on the score of economy, necessary for persons (who have not been apprenticed to the trade), to do their own painting. To enable such to practise with success, we propose giving a few hints.

RESPECTING THE ARTICLES USED.

WHITE LEAD.—This is extensively manufactured in all of our principal cities. Low priced leads are always adulterated by _chalk_, or, as it is called in its prepared state, _whiting_. It is sometimes so largely mixed with this, as to be worthless, and every one has observed houses, painted for a year or so, from which the paint rubs off like whitewash, in consequence of the use of adulterated lead. The poorest lead is sold _without any brand_. The common article is branded as No. 1, with the maker’s name. The best article is branded with the maker’s name, as PURE, or SUPERIOR. It is the best economy always to use the pure lead.

OIL.—Linseed oil is that usually employed in painting. It contains a large amount of fatty substance and of other impurity, which should be separated from it before it is used. _This is to be done by boiling._ For outside work, the oil should _always be boiled_, no matter what the painter says about it. Great care should be taken in doing this. Let the kettle be set out of doors, the heat be increased gradually, but never enough to produce violent boiling, as the oil will expand, run over, and take fire, when nothing can save it, or the house either, oftentimes, if you have been foolish enough to do it within doors. As fast as impurities rise to the surface, skim them off—when the oil has a clear look, slack off the fire and let the oil cool; carefully turn off the clear portion, leaving the _sediment_ undisturbed.

DRYERS.—Substances used to make paint dry quickly are called _Dryers_. For light work sugar of lead is the best; for colored paint, litharge and red lead are employed. Spirits of turpentine is used for the same purpose. Litharge and red lead are usually boiled in with the oil at the rate of about a quarter of a pound of litharge to a gallon of oil.

MIXING AND LAYING ON.—Paint is purchased in kegs, containing twenty-five pounds of lead ground in oil, and ready for mixing. The kegs themselves make excellent paint-pots. The lead is to be mixed according to the work to be done. If paint is laid on in heavy coats it will crack and peel off. If several thin coats are successively laid on, it forms a solid body. The first coat is called _priming_. The lead is made quite thin with oil for priming. Before laying it on, let the work be cleaned, all dust and dirt be removed. The surface is then covered evenly with paint, and allowed to dry thoroughly.

SECOND COAT.—Let nail-holes, cracks, etc., be filled with putty; for colored painting, red-lead putty is the best. The paint should be mixed to the thickness of thin cream, and laid on _evenly_, but not in too great quantities. In nice work, after this coat has thoroughly dried, it should be rubbed down with pumice-stone or fine sand-paper. The third coat is to be laid on as was the second. Three coats, at least, are required for good painting. Four or five will be still better.

Paint mixed with boiled oil usually has a glossy appearance. If it is desired to increase this, small portions of varnish are added. This is usually confined to outside work.

In cities the glossy surface of paint, is dis-esteemed for inside work; and instead, a _flatted_ white is laid on. This is produced by mixing the lead for the last coat with turpentine instead of oil, by which a dull white is made. Flatted colors are not susceptible of being cleaned by washing more that once or twice, whereas common paint will endure washing, if carefully performed, for years. If painting is _well done_, and the paint is of the best materials, it ought to last twenty years. But the trash too often daubed upon buildings, does not last five years.

White will keep its color best for outside work. Some tint is thought to be more agreeable for inside work. Much judgment is required in preparing colored or tinted paints; and verbal directions cannot well be given for it in any moderate space. The usual pigments employed in making up the tints most in fashion, are for _grey_—white lead, Prussian blue, ivory black, and lake, or Venetian red; for _pea_ and _sea greens_—white, Prussian blue, and yellow; for _olive green_—white, Prussian blue, umber, and yellow ochre; for _fawn color_—burned terra sienna, umber, and white.

We add two recipes taken from an English work, for a cheap paint for inside walls.

“MILK PAINT.—A paint has been used on the Continent with
success, made from _milk_ and _lime_, that dries quicker than
oil paint, and has no smell. It is made in the following
manner: Take fresh curds and bruise the lumps on a
grinding-stone, or in an earthen pan, or mortar, with a
spatula or strong spoon. Then put them into a pot with an
equal quantity of lime, well slacked with water, to make it
just thick enough to be kneaded. Stir this mixture without
adding more water, and a white-colored fluid will soon be
obtained, which will serve as a paint. It may be laid on with
a brush with as much ease us varnish, and it dries very
speedily. It must, however, be used the same day it is made,
for if kept till next day it will be too thick: consequently
no more must be mixed up at one time than can be laid on in a
day. If any color be required, any of the ochres, as yellow
ochre, or red ochre, or umber, may be mixed with it in any
proportion. Prussian blue would be changed by the lime. Two
coats of this paint will be sufficient, and when quite dry it
may be polished with a piece of woollen cloth, or similar
substance, and it will become as bright as varnish. It will
only do for inside work; but it will last longer if varnished
over with white of egg after it has been polished.”

“_The following recipe for milk paint_ is given in ‘Smith’s
Art of House Painting:’ Take of skimmed milk nearly two
quarts; of fresh-slaked lime about six ounces and a half; of
linseed oil four ounces, and of whiting three pounds; put the
lime into a stone vessel, and pour upon it a sufficient
quantity of milk to form a mixture resembling thin cream;
then add the oil, a little at a time, stirring it with a
small spatula; the remaining milk is then to be added, and
lastly the whiting. The milk must on no account be sour.
Slake the lime by dipping the pieces in water, out of which
it is to be immediately taken, and left to slake in the air.
For fine white paint the oil of caraway is best, because
colorless; but with ochres the commonest oils may be used.
The oil when mixed with the milk and lime entirely
disappears, and is totally dissolved by the lime, forming a
calcareous soap. The whiting or ochre is to be gently
crumbled on the surface of the fluid, which it gradually
imbibes, and at last sinks: at this period it must be well
stirred in. This paint may be colored like distemper or
size-color, with levigated charcoal, yellow ochre, etc., and
used in the same manner. The quantity here prescribed is
sufficient to cover twenty-seven square yards with the first
coat, and it will cost about three halfpence a yard. The same
paint will do for outdoor work by the addition of two ounces
of slaked lime, two ounces of linseed oil, and two ounces of
white Burgundy pitch: the pitch to be melted in a gentle heat
with the oil, and then added to the smooth mixture of the
milk and lime. In cold weather it must be mixed warm, to
facilitate its incorporation with the milk.”

* * * * *

We add several recipes of various convenient kinds of paint to be employed in particular situations, and for special purposes.

“_A coating to preserve wood in damp situations_ may be made
by beating twelve pounds of resin in a mortar, and adding to
it three pounds of sulphur and twelve pints of whale oil.
This mixture must then be melted over a fire, and stirred
well while it is melting. Ochre of any required color,
ground in oil, may be put to it. This composition must be
laid on hot, and when the first coat is dry, which will be
in two or three days, a second coat may be given; and a
third, if necessary.”

“_Gas tar_, with yellow ochre, makes a very cheap and
durable green paint for iron rails and coarse woodwork.”

“_Composition to lay on a boarded building, to resist the
weather and likewise fire._—Take one measure of fine sand,
two measures of wood-ashes well sifted, three of slaked lime
ground up with oil, and mix them together; lay this on with
a brush, the first coat thin, the second thick. This adheres
so strongly to the boards covered with it, that it resists
an iron tool, and the action of fire, and is impenetrable by
water.”

“_A flexible paint for canvas_ is made by stirring into
fifty-six pounds of common oil paint a solution of soap lye,
made of half a pound of soap and three pounds of water: it
must be used while warm.”

“_A black coloring for garden walls_ may be made by mixing
quicklime, lampblack, a little copperas, and hot water.”

GARDEN WEEDS.

After hot weather sets in many are naturally inclined to relax their garden labors; they have eaten their salads, their radishes and peas; their beans and corn require but little attention, and as for the rest, it is left to the company of weeds.

WEEDS.—If the garden be thoroughly hoed twice or three times, the labor of keeping down weeds the rest of the summer will be small. It is best to go over a compartment first with the hoe, to cut off weeds and loosen the soil, then with a rake go over it again, levelling and smoothing the surface, and collecting the weeds into heaps, which should be wheeled to the manure-corner and left to decay. In raking, tread backward so that your tracks will be covered by the rake, and the bed left even.

Among the most vexatious weeds may be mentioned the purslain (_Portulacca oleracea_), commonly called pussly. It comes in May and lasts through the summer. One plant bears seed enough for a whole acre. It is very tenacious of life. The least bit of root sprouts again, and when rooted up, if a single fibre touches the soil, it starts off in full vigor. When boiled it furnishes a very palatable article of “greens.” We go over the ground with a hoe, then rake it into heaps and wheel it to the barn-yard. Hogs are fond of it, and it is said to fatten them well. It is somewhat amusing to those who are vexed at its insuperable intrusiveness and its inevitable vigor, to hear English garden-books speaking of it as “somewhat tender,” of raising it on hot-beds, of drilling it in the open garden, of watering it in dry weather thrice a week, and cutting it carefully so that it may sprout again! Cut it as you please, gentlemen! rake it into alleys, let an August sun scorch it, and if there is so much as a handful of dirt thrown _at it_, no fear but that it will sprout again. It is a vegetable type of immortality. The Jamestown weed (called jimpsum), the Spanish needle, lamb’s-quarters, etc., are easily eradicated for the season by one or two hoeings. The grasses which infest gardens, spreading into a cultivated ground from the grass-plat, or brought in with manure, are easily weeded out if plucked while small; but if left, the long spreading-roots tear up tender plants along with them.

It is said that if no seeds were brought into the land by wind or manure, or growth, the stock of weeds might be eradicated in eight years. But so long as corners and fence edges are reserved as weed-nurseries, to furnish an annual supply of seed, no one need fear that gardening will become too easy from want of work.

We know of but two reasons for letting weeds grow to any size. In a large garden, when all the ground is not to be planted at once, the reserved portions may be suffered to sprout all the weeds, and when six or eight inches high, if turned under, they will furnish good manure. Again, when cut-worms are very numerous, when tomatoes and cabbages have been set out on a clean compartment, we have lost from a half to two-thirds of the plants. If the weeds are kept down just about the hill, and permitted to grow for a few weeks, between the rows, although it has a very slovenly look, it will save the cabbages, etc., by giving ample foot to the cut-worm. When the plants grow tough in the stem the weeds may be lightly spaded in, and the surface levelled with a rake.

LUCERNE.

This admirable plant is not so well known as it should be. It resembles a clover, and is used for green food for cattle, for which it is peculiarly adapted both by its nutriciousness and its endurance of repeated cuttings. Care must be taken to put it upon the right soil and it will bear mowing four or five times a year, and will last for ten years—with care five years more! The soil for it is a _deep_, a very deep vegetable loam, which drains itself perfectly and yet without becoming dry. It has a fusiform root, which, as the plant grows older, extends downward from four to six feet. The subsoil is regarded by Flemish farmers as of more importance than the surface soil. A stiff, cold, clay, a wet and springy soil; a hard, cold, wet subsoil of any sort, is unfavorable to it. It should therefore be tried on warm, dry, and rich soils, than which none are better than our sandy alluvions or bottom lands. During its first year it requires some care, to keep down weeds, as it is easily smothered; but when once established it rules the soil in defiance of anything. If the ground is _very_ clean, it may be sown broadcast; but it is always safer and often _necessary_ to drill it. Authors vary as to the quantity of seed required per acre, Von Thaër says six to eight pounds, while his French editor says from sixteen to eighteen. We suppose that from ten to twelve pounds will be a fair amount.

When the plants are well established they will be improved by severe harrowing every spring, a sharp harrow being used until the field looks as if it were plowed.

Lucerne has been tried by a few cultivators in the West, but by more in the East, with great success, and it has this peculiar excellence, that, thanks to its very long roots, it withstands our severest droughts; indeed our hottest and dryest summers are those which it seems to delight in.

FAMILY GOVERNMENT.

“William! stop that noise, I say—_won’t_ you stop! Stop, I Tell you, or I’ll slap your mouth.”

William bawls a little louder.

“William, I tell you! ain’t you going to stop? _Stop_ I say! If you don’t stop I’ll whip you, sure.”

William goes up a fifth, and beats time with his heels.

“I never saw such a child!—he’s got temper enough for a whole town; I’m sure he didn’t get it from me. Why don’t you be still! Whist. Wh-i-st. Come, come, be still, won’t you? Stop, _stop_, STOP, I say! Don’t you see this—don’t you see this stick? See here now,” (cuts the air with the stick).

William, more furious, kicks very manfully at his mother—grows redder in the face, lets out the last note, and begins to reel, and shake, and twist, in a most spiteful manner.

“Come, William! come dear—that’s a darling—naughty William! come, that’s a good boy; donty cry, p-o-o-r, little fellow; sant ab-o-o-s-e you, sall eh! Ma’s ittle man, want a piece of sooger? Ma’s little boy got cramp, p-o-o-r little sick boy,” etc., etc.

William wipes up, and minds, and eats his sugar, and stops.

AFTER SCENE.—The minister is present, and very nice talk is going on upon the necessity of governing children. “Too true,” says mamma, “some people _will_ give up to their children, and it ruins them—every child should be governed. But then it won’t do to carry it _too_ far; if one whips all the time it will break a child’s spirit. One ought to mix kindness and firmness together in managing children.”

“I think so,” said the preacher; “firmness first and then kindness.”

“Yes, sir, that’s my practice exactly.”

CATALOGUE OF FLOWERS, SEEDS, AND FRUITS.

We have received from different directions catalogues of seeds, flowers, and fruits. Instead of a mere mention of them, we shall employ them as _texts_ for some remarks on the departments to which they belong.

The kinds, and varieties of the same kind of vegetables advertised are satisfactory. Then there is evidence that the easily besetting sin of seed establishments has been resisted and very much overcome, viz.: _a prodigal multiplication of varieties_. Now we do not wish to tie down a seedsman to only one variety of cucumber—one pea—one bean; for there is great advantage in having many varieties of the same vegetable. Some love mild radishes, and some love the full peppery taste; as both qualities cannot exist in the same variety it is desirable to have two. But some radishes which do admirably in the spring and early summer, lose their good qualities if planted in summer. We therefore seek and find a summer variety. This again fails for late autumnal use, and we procure a (so called) winter sort. We need one pea for its _earliness_: but early fruit seldom has size or a high flavor; we desire other varieties, therefore, for flavor, even though, in giving them a longer period to perfect their juices, we have a late pea. But some men raise peas for _market_, and cannot afford to raise a pea merely because fine-flavored, unless also it is _prolific_. Then, once more, market peas must be raised, usually as a _field-pea_, and sown broadcast. Some peas stand up stronger than others, and these are of course preferred. Now, as we cannot find any vegetable that combines all the qualities of _earliness_, _size_, _flavor_, and adaptation to variety of soil and diversity of cultivation, we come as near to it as possible, by gaining _varieties_, in which some one or more of these qualities are better developed than in any others. The reasons for multiplying varieties afford a rule by which they may be limited.

The fact that a seed is a variety different from all others is no good reason for retaining or cultivating it; it must, in SOME _respects, surpass others_ now in use, or it only encumbers the garden. What is the use of ten varieties of peas ripening at the same time of one size, and differing from each other in not one assignable particular? When a catalogue enumerates _fifty varieties_ of cabbage, or pea, or bean, are we to believe that each of the _fifty_ has a virtue peculiar to itself? If not, if two-thirds of them have no merit which is not found, and found in a higher degree, in the one-third they have no business to be retained. Let the one-third, stand and the rest be erased. We regard a _very_ fat catalogue as we do a very fat man—all the worse for its obesity. In comparing catalogues, we are not left as much without an authoritative standard of judgment, in respect _to a proper extension of the number of varieties_, as might at first appear. English gardening has been carried to such a degree of excellence, both as an art and as a science, that we may regard the deliberate judgment of the best gardeners as law on this subject. When Loudon published his invaluable “Encyclopedia of Gardening,” he was permitted by the London Horticultural Society to avail himself of the services of the distinguished Monro in the department of culinary vegetables.

Let us compare the catalogues of three first rate seedsmen as it respects a multiplication of varieties, with Mr. Monro’s selections:

+--------+--------+-----+------+----+------+-------+----+-----+-------+
| |Cucumber|Melon|Celery|Beet|Turnip|Cabbage|Peas|Beans|Lettuce|
+--------+--------+-----+------+----+------+-------+----+-----+-------+
|Landreth| 2 | 15 | 2 | 5 | 9 | 10 | 7 | 15 | 8 |
| +--------+-----+------+----+------+-------+----+-----+-------+
|Breck | 9 | 10 | 6 | 8 | 22 | 18 | 20 | 24 | 12 |
| +--------+-----+------+----+------+-------+----+-----+-------+
|Prince | 17 | 25 | 8 | 9 | 30 | 49 | 47 | 61 | 56 |
+--------+--------+-----+------+----+------+-------+----+-----+-------+

Mr. Monro names _nineteen_ kinds of peas only, instead of _forty-seven_: _twenty-two_ kinds of beans instead of _sixty-one_; seven varieties of turnip instead of _twenty-two_, or, worse yet, _thirty_; _fourteen_ sorts of lettuce, instead of _fifty-two_.

To the uninitiated a catalogue may look meagre with only _eight_ kinds of lettuce instead of _fifty_; _fifteen_ beans instead of _sixty-one_, etc., but these corpulent catalogues make meagre pockets, except in the case of the _seedsman_. A much greater latitude of varieties is allowable in a nursery catalogue than in a seedsman’s list. But in even these there is a disposition to extravagance which needs to be corrected. Where the disproportion of knowledge between the buyers and seller is so great as it is, and for some time, must be, in horticultural matters, it becomes nurserymen and seedsmen who _are_ honest (and we have many such, and they are increasing)—those who regard their business as an honorable branch of _science_, as well as a proper means of livelihood, and who hope to gain a high _reputation_, even more than they do wealth, it becomes such to render the lists SELECT; and while the monstrously bloated catalogues of boasting and avaricious men continue to perplex and deceive the unwary, let all intelligent cultivators _sustain_ those who rely on the _quality_ rather than _quantity_ of their articles.

GARDEN SEEDS.

Good seeds are the very first requisite for a good garden; soil and culture cannot make good crops out of bad seed.

1. As a general rule, _buy your seeds_. The reasons for it are so many and so good, that you will certainly do it, unless _economy_ prevent; but it is better to economize elsewhere.

In the first place, seed-raising is a delicate business; and, for many reasons, will be better done by those who make it their business, than by those who do not. A reputable seedsman never dreams of raising, himself, all the seeds which he sells. For example, one sort of seed is let out to a farmer who contracts to raise it in a given soil and manner, and at a distance from all other seeds. One man raises the beet seed—another man, very often hundreds of miles distant, another sort. Peas are sent to Vermont and to Canada, where the pea-bug does not infest them. Some seeds, for which this climate is not favorable, are imported from Italy, from Guernsey—just as flowering bulbs are from Holland. We suppose this to be true of Landreth, Thornburn, Prince, Bliss, Risley, etc. In cases where seeds are raised upon the premises of the seedsman, they are put on different parts of the farm, as far apart as possible.

Those precautions are indispensable to the procuration of the _best_ seeds of esculent vegetables. Species of the same genus, with open flowers, are so easily _crossed_, that, if grown contiguously, they cannot be kept pure. All _cucurbitaceous_ plants, such as squashes, pumpkins, melons, cucumbers, gourds, etc., will mix and degenerate if planted even in the same garden. Let any one who wishes to see how it is done, watch the bee covering itself with golden pollen as it searches for honey in the cells of the flower, and darting off to another, mingling the fertilizing powder of the two. In a single morning, cucumbers will be mixed with each other, and with canteloupes; squashes will be crossed, and in the next generation will show it. Where the organs of flowers are protected, as in the pea, bean, etc., by a floral envelope, insects do not mix their pollen. I have never known pure beet seed raised in a private garden which had more than the single kind in it—or when another garden was near which had other sorts.

We prefer, _generally_, northern seeds to those raised elsewhere. A mere change of soil and climate is often advantageous to seeds. But besides this, greater care and skill are usually employed at the north in producing sound and safe seeds.

We can recommend, from repeated trials, the seeds of Risley, Chatauque county, N. Y., and of Mr. Breck of Boston. Landreth of Philadelphia has a high reputation; so have the veteran Thorburn of John Street, and the enterprising house of B. K. Bliss & Sons of Park Place, New York.

2. Some seeds retain their power of germination to an astonishing length of time, as will appear from facts stated by Prof. Lindley:

“Not to speak of the doubtful instances of seeds taken from the Pyramids having germinated, melons have been known to grow at the age of 40 years, kidney beans at 100, sensitive-plant at 60, rye at 40; and there are now growing, in the garden of the Horticultural Society, raspberry plants raised from seeds 1600 or 1700 years old.” (See “Introduction to Botany,” ed. 3, p. 358.)

But in selecting seeds, _fresh_ ones should be had if possible. Where, however, the vegetable is cultivated for the sake of its flower, or its fruit, it is sometimes better to select old seed. Thus balsamines (the touch-me-not) and the cucumber, squash and melon tribe do better on seeds three or four years old; for fresh seeds produce plants whose growth will be too luxuriant for producing fruit; whereas from old seed, the plants have less vigor of growth but a greater tendency to fruit well.

We insert a table, exhibiting the years which different seeds will retain their vitality.

TIME THAT SEEDS WILL KEEP.

YEARS.
Asparagus 4 or 13
Balm 2
Basil 1 or 3
Beans 1 or 2
Beets 8 or 10
Borage 2
Cabbage 6 or 8
Carrot 1 or 7
Celery 6 or 8
Corn 2 or 3
Cress 2
Cucumber 8 or 10
Caraway 4
Fennel 6
Garlic 3
Leek 3 or 4
Lettuce 3 or 4
Mangel Wurtzel 8 or 10
Marjoram 4
Melon 8 or 10
Mustard 3 or 4
Nasturtium 2 or 3
Onion 3
Parsley 5 or 6
Parsnip 1
Pea 2 or 3
Pumpkin 8 or 10
Pepper 5 or 6
Radish 6 or 8
Rue 3
Ruta Baga 4
Salsify 2
Savory 3 or 4
Spinage 3 or 4
Squash 8 or 10
Turnip 3 or 4

FARMERS’ GARDENS.

Farmers are apt to have very inferior gardens. The idea is, that in the spring they have no time; the farm crops are of more importance. In consequence of such a decision, no garden will be had unless the housewife is willing to be gardenwife too. At her importunity at length one horse is put to the plow and the garden is broken up—say four inches deep. Possibly the boy is allowed to throw up the beds, but very often even this is left to woman’s hand. She has to hunt up seed; peppers are pulled off from the ceiling and eviscerated; drawers are ransacked for the bag of radish seed or the paper of lettuce seed; the old broken pitcher is taken from its long seclusion on the top of the cupboard and emptied of its beans and peas; withal a few flower seeds are added to grace the stock—four o’clocks; poppies, marigolds, and touch-me-nots. Our gardenwife is not so admirable for lily hands or fair face, or fairy form. She cannot walk over dewy flowers without crushing them, as can a true heroine; for her specific gravity gives evidence of a good constitution, health and habits.

Her praise is, that in a new country where woman unquestionably suffers the most of hardships, she is cheerful, contented, industrious, enterprising, and, like women the world over, seeks to draw around herself objects of taste and beauty to decorate and cheer her husband’s and her children’s home; and, if necessary, to do it by the field-labor of her own hands. We could not forbear saying so much of the meritorious gardener of more than half the rural gardens in the West.

The seeds all mustered, she may be seen, after the breakfast things are all done up, busy with spade and hoe, hiding her treasures. And thus she does it. First a liberal suit of onion beds—savory vegetables to the tongue and most unsavory to the nose—making it almost impossible for these respectable neighbors to live together in peace, one or other of them being in bad odor with the other. Next, a seed-bed full of cabbages—significant to the imagination of cold-slaw, sourcrout, etc. A good row of peas, and a few hills of running beans are added. The alleys are ruffled with bush beans; a few early potatoes, some corn for roasting-ears, with a slender bed for beets, complete the stock of esculents. But sage, and summer savory, and thyme, and rue, and sweet marjoram, tansy, boneset and wormwood are attended to; a part for stuffing ducks and chickens—and the others for curing those who have been too much stuffed _with_ them. The garden yields in due time its first fruits; the potatoes come and go, the corn is early plucked, lettuce shoots up its seed-stalk, peas render their tribute and grow sere, beans rattle in the pod, and before August her work is done and her garden forsaken except a small retinue of flowers, which are nursed to the last. Weeds now make up for lost time, and in a few weeks a weedy forest hides every trace of cultivation. This is not a fancy sketch; we have been far from drawing a picture from the worst specimens; it is a fair average case.