THE
SUN.
IN ESSENTIALS, UNITY ;
LIBERTY;
IN ALL THINGS, CHARITY.
SUFFOLK, VA., FEIUAY MAECH 19, 1880.
- - >? —:————---——
TSTumber 12.
BRING MY HARP.
Years hate come and passed away
Golden locks have turned to gray,
Golden ringlets once so fair
Time has changed to silrery hair.
Yes, I’m near the river-side;
Soon I’ll launch upon the tide,
While my boat with noiseless oar
Safe will reach the other shore.
CHoaus.
Bring my harp to me again ;
Let me play one gentle strain.
Let me hear its chords once more,
Ere 1 pass to yon bright shore.
Oh, these chords, with magic power,
Take me back to childhood’s hour,
To the cot beside the sea
Where I knelt at mother’s knee.
But that mother, she is gone,
Calm she sleeps beneath the storm,
While 1 wander here below,
Waiting for a brighter home.
Chorus.
V
Soon I'll be among the blest,
Where the weary are at rest.
Soon I’ll tread the golden shore
Singing praise forever more.
Now the boat U ou the stream,
I can see the waters gleam ;
Soon I'll be where angels roam;
Dear old harp, I’m going home.
Choiics.
Now the trials of life are past,
I'm safe at home at last.
Now my Journey is complete,
1 am singing music sweet.
Uh, these angels, how they sing
Praises to their heavenly King.
And I catch the sweetest song ;
Dear old harp, I’ve reached my home.
Chorus.
My dear old harp 1 need no more ;
1 am sale on the golden shore :
I am sieging music sweet,
As I tread the golden street.
—Selected.
♦
HERE AND THERE.
—According to Mr. Spurgeon’s
Pastor’s College statistics to the close
of 1879, it appears that since the
foundation of the institution some 472
ministers have been educated in the
college, and 132 churches formed,
while through its instrumentality 36,
123 persons have been baptized. Tbe
students in the college towards the
close of the year numbered 110, whilst
the ereuing classes were attended by
some 200 studeuts. The weekly
amount required for maintenance is
$000, a large portion of which is con
tributed by the congregation of the
Metropolitan Tabernacle.
—Hume used to go tocburch some
times in Scotlaud. Collins insisted ou
his servants going to church “that
they might not rob or murder him.”
Voltaire “built a church to God” al
Ferney. Mr. Huxley wants tbe Bi
ble introduced into boarding-schools.
Piof. Tyndall is iudiguaut with beiug
charged with hostility to religion;
and Mr. Herbert Spencer leaves am
ple space for tbe “unknown aud the
unknowable.” The heart, like nature,
“abhors a vacuumit craves for
something beyond a negation; and as
loug as tho unknown is treated as
“unknown,” the cfaviug is hard to
—Keligion may be said to com
meuce wbeu a soul ceases to keep
back auy secret from God. To live
always bare to the soul’s core iu His
sight is the condition of healthful re
ligion. To speak out in His ear what
cannot be spoken in another's those
communicable things which each
man’s own spirit knows, and which
can be told even to God only in such
inarticulate groaus as need a divine
interpreter, this is that manner of
praying which is'a necessity in the
religious life, and which can only be
reached iu secret. The reason for
this necessity runs down iuto that
mysterious personality which makes
every being, at the last resort, a soli
tude, impervious to his fellow, accessi
ble ouly to his God. Largely iudeeil
it is with sin, the peculiar coucious
ness of which each man takes to be
an unparalleled aud incommunicable
experience of his own ; with sin, and
with the secret struggle be has to
make agaiust it, that the solitary con
fessions aud petitions of a Christiau
must for the present be occupied.—
Yet this necessity lor solitary prayer
is so far from restiug on the evil state
of inau that it Is rather found to in
crease as men make progress toward
perfection ; while the memorable ex
ample ot our Lord himself, throwing
back light upon His words, demon
strates how lndispensible, even to a
perfect Son of God, was such retire
ment from human t^ght into the soli
tary presence of his Father.
ANOTHER CHAIR.
Years ago there stood in one of
the squares of the town of Valencien
nes a fine old Gothic tower. As it
was remarkably lofty, the watchman
could see from its upper windows
over a great extent of country, and
ring the alaim bell when Are occur
red in the town.
In process of time it was said the
tower itself gave certain signs of de
cay, and that ere long it would fall.
It leaned to one side; and it was
feared it would fall on a row of houses
which lay near. For some days
passers-by had seen small portions of
stone or cement detaching them
selves from the tower. The inhabi
tants of the neighboring houses were
officially informed of their danger,
and received notice to quit their
premises. Great was their alarm,
and they gathered what they could of
their goods and removed to safe*
quarters.
Oue old woman could not be indu
ced to leave any of her furniture or
clothing behiud her. The tower
seemed to lean more and more. Large
bits of stone, under the pressure, fell
down the side. Some one said that
the old woman still remained in her
house. Soon afterwards she was
seen at her door. The crowd called
to her to come away. She would not
but still continued to bring out old
chairs, food and clothing. A gener
ous young man rushed to her rescue,
bringing her forcibly away, with
whatever of her goods he could grasp
with his arms. Shouts of applause
greeted him on bis return l'rou' his
perilous expedition.
Every moment the final crash was
expected, when suddenly, while all
eyes were fixed on the tower, the old
woman made a rush at her house. ‘T
will have another chair,” she said,
and rushed inside her house. At the
some moment, the tower, with’au
awful crash, fell, and crushed almost
to powder the row of houses and all
they contained. The old woman was
never seen again.
We call her a fool, and, doubtless
she was; but was this woman upon
whom the tower of Valenciennes fell,
more foolish than hundreds of others
who lay claim to wisdom and intelli
gence! The world itself passeth
away and the lost thereof. Like a
leaning tower it is tottering to its
overthrow, and it needs but the jar
of the coming earthquake to lay its
glory in the dust; and yet men cling
to this world, to its honors, its pleas
ures, its treasures, and its joys, and
hesitate to break from its eucbauting
wiles. But this is ouly for a little
while, the day of desolation will come
already the great God has given
warning to men and has told them ol
the frailty of all things earthly, of
the brevity of life, the fleetness of
time, and the certaiuty of approach
iug doom ; but yet they refuse to
heed the warning, and dread not the
approaching calamity. At last the
hour will come, when with flame and
fire, with scatterings and tempest
and hailstones, the enemies of the
I.ord shall be beaten down, “in the
day of the great slaughter, when the
towers fall.” Isa. xxx. 25, 30. But
beyond that hour of convulsion and
calamity, theie shall dawn a day of
peace for those who have heeded
the warning given, and have fled for
refuge from the coming crash, when
“the light of the moon shall be as the
light of the suu, and the light of the
sun shall be sevenfold, as the light of
seven days, in the day that the Lord
bindeth up the breach cf his people,
and bealeth the stroke of their
wound.”
OUR OWN.
BY )|ARY R. BALDWIN.
There are heads of families who,
time and again, have read, “He that
provideth not for his own is worse
than an infidel,” and have boldly
faced what they supposed was the
only truth they taught—the provi
ding for physical wants.
I believe there are men by the
score who would scorn to neglect the
provision, even in the smallest detail
who, nevertheless, are starving the
soul of a wife or child.
“I have been thinking,” said a
sweet-voiced woman, as one spring
morning she sat upon the porch,
looking out with wistful eye upon the
glad surprises of tho opening season,
“I have been thiukiug how sweet it
would be to have one of the old sur
prises of my girlhood. I believe 1
have a weakness for them—at least
my husband used to say, in our early
married life, that when he gave me a
surprise in the shape of some little
pleasure trip, the effect was quite
electrifying, it brightened me up so.”
“Why, then, does he not try it
uow !”
“Well, yon know, as we get on in
life we are absorbed in its cares, and
do not see the wauts of those who
are nearest ns, even.”
That very afternoon I went to see
a friend who was an invalid. She was
afflicted with one of those obstidato
nervous diseases so hard to cure, so
little understood by those who have
not suffered from them.
“I have had a horrible day,” she
said, ‘ if I could make you under
stand, but I can not, I fear, just now
I suffer.
“The shutting of a door, the sound
of a footstep, the murmur of voices,
have caused me almost au agony.
My sisters do not understand it;
they never did ! and tor years I have
felt within myself that I was slowly
but surely drifting to this.
“There have been times when I
would have giveu worlds for just a
few words of sympathy for my condi
tion, but I had to do without them.
When little events that the others
did not seem to mind have sent me
unnerved to my bed, I have been
asked sarcastically: “Do you think
you were born more sensitive than
the rest of os t why can not you rise
above these tilings as we do! I never
tell my troubles now’, and they kindly
leave me to myselt. 1 hey are not to
blame, you see,” she said in apology ;
“we are not alike, that is all, perhaps
I am daring to hope this new treat
meat will make me nerve strong, like
the rest.”
“The new treatment may help her;”
1 said, as I slow ly walked home, “but
who shall take away the scar ol
thoughtless, unsympathetic words!”
Will that husband ever open his
ey es wide enough to see his wife la
ding before his eyes ! and will ho re
deem the time, and bring back the
light of her girlhood through a few of
the' old time surprises !
Will the sisters, through a gentle
touch, a tender look or a sympathetic
word, take one thoru from the mem
ories that may torture them when
perhaps, the revelation may come all
too late, that they have shown cruel
ty even at their own fireside !
How careful we are to observe the
courtesies of life with our neighbor,
our friend, while we wound those
who have the first demands upon us
only because they are of our own
household.—Church and Home.
A SCENE ON AN OHIO RIVER STEAMER.
BY REV. M. D. GAGE.
It is nearly twenty years since the
following incident occurred. The oc
casion was one of deepest interest,
showing the contrast between two
widely different types of human char
acter. On the same steamer were
gathered a number of Christiau min
isters, on their way to the May anni
versaries of their denomination, at
Cincinnati, and an equal number ol
professional gamblers.
As the boat glided onward through
the ever-shifting scenes of the beau
tiful Ohio on a lovely morning, the
sky began to assume the aspect which
indicates a coming storm. The clouds
rapidly gathered, and a violent wind
arose, which swept furiously up the
river, lashing the water into fury,
and causing great loss of life and pro
perty, especially on the' uuinerous
fiat-boats aud coal-barges descending
the stream. Many steamboats were
placed in great peril, among them
that of which I have spoken.
One of the clergymen on board de
scribes the scene which eusued as the
most impressive he had ever witnes
sed. As the storm broke in its fier
cest violence upon them, threatening
all on board with iustautand inevita
ble death, the group of ministers
stood erect on deck, their cheeks pale
with the effect of conscious peril,
calmly trusting iu him who stilled
the ragiug Sea of Geunesaretl^ and
confidently committing their loved
cues, whom they expected to see no
more on earth, to the hands of a cov
euant-keepiug God, while the whole
company of terrified gamblers, who
had rushed from their places at the
gaming-table on the sudden approach
of danger, fell upon their knees iu
prayer for mercy, iu agonizing tones
of voice pleading for deliverance from
peril or tor pardon of their sins. No
pen can describe the scene, and im
agination alone can draw the picture
of those hardeued wretches thus sud
den'ly brought face to fa*e with death,
as contrasted with that otVliristian
men calmly awaiting their fate.
The struggling steamer creaked
and groaning at ever joint as the
storm grappled with its siuewy form(
au on seeming on the point of yield
ing the unequal coutest, and then
summoning all its power of resistance
tojrepel the assaults of wind and wave.
At last the crisis came and went,
leaving the imperiled passengers and
crew to experience that peculiar sense
lopni unugci
id who ban
it. Batin'
safety thire
auifestation of
■h marked the
the steamer’s
of deliverance from
which none can nrn
not personally rea
the moment of asst
was a most signal
the characteristics
two groups of meu^
deck.
No sooner was
than the terrified gi
their knees, their le
suddenly changed t«
with one conseut th«
mutual apologies fq
in the hour of per
moment, those Chi
who had stood up
death, fell upou t: ir knees, aud
poured forth their gi feful thanks to
God for his preseof^ mercy. As
the gamblers rallied from their ter
ror aud resumed their course ofsiu,
the voice of song brake forth from a
chorus of voices attuned to thepiaise
of God, aud there was a striking em
bodiment iu real life ol the ultimate
state of the righteous aud the wicked
as foretold in the closing scene of the
he danger past
biers rose from
'ofdeath being
ear of man, and
began to make
I their weakness
At the same
f‘ian ministers,
■avely to meet
apocalyptic vision, Kev. 22:11,14,15 :
“tie that*is unjust, let him be unjust
mill; and he which is filthy, let him
he filthy still: and he that is right
eous, let him be righteous still: and
he that is holy, let him be holy stiff
Blessed are they that do his com
mandments, that they may have right
to the tree of life, aud may enter iu
though the gates iuto the city. For
without are dogs, aud sorcerers, and
whoremougers, and muiderers, aud
whosoever loveth and maketh a lie.'
SUCCESS IN PREACHING.
The waut of success in preaching
is not the eriterian to encourage or
discourage the minister. The pres
ent age is oue of restless activity ;
we travel by steam, we write by tel
egraph, we talk by telephone. We
desire to carry the same speed iuto
our religions life, aud because we
cauuot succeed with the same activ
ity, we become restless and are ready
to say all our religious efforts are fail
ures. To check this impatience
about success iu religious matters,
we should remember that God did
uot create the world in one day, that
it takes now the*same time for tbe
earth to produce its fruits that it did
before the flood. The husbandman
must still wait for the precious fruit
of the earth, aud must have long pa
tieuco for it until he receives the
early and the latter rain. Wo must
still coutiuuc to sow the precious
seed, to water it and depend on God
for the increase. It is not the learn
ing of Paul, or the eloquence of Apol
los that secures the end ; these are
the instrumentalities ordained of God
but the increase is of God.
The duty of the minister is to
preach the Word in season and out
of seasou, to rebuke, exhort with all
long sufferiug and leave the result
with God, aud we have His promise
that His word shall not return unto
him void, but that it shall acoorn
plish His will aud prosper iu the
thing whereunto he sends it. The
world will not be converted in a day,
it will take time to do this, the Gos
pel must be preached among all ua
tious for a witness to the truth that
Christ is the only true and living
way to the Father, that there is no
other name under heaven given
amongst meu whereby we must be
saved; and in mauy instances this
gospel will be hid to those in whom
the God of this world hath blinded
the minds of them which believe not,
lest the light of the glorious gospel
of Christ should shine unto them.
The good seed sown was only pro
ductive in the proportion of one, in
the good grouud, to three. Noah
was a preacher of righteousness, and
labored for one huudred and twenty
years while the ark was preparing,
still there is no evidence that a single
man believed his message and tied
from the impending danger. Moses
complained against Israel that they
wero a stiff necked and rebellious
race. Elijah was discouraged and
supposed that he only was left of the
true worshipers of Jehovah. Isaiah
cries, “Who hath believed our re
port, and to whom is the arm of the
Lord revealed.” Christ was in his
public ministry for three years, and
the number of the disciples on the
morning of the day of Fentecost was
one hundred and twenty. Paul was
greatly discouraged at Coriuth, but
the Lord spake to him in a vision by
uiglit, “Re not afraid, but speak and
hold not thy peace, for 1 have much
people m this city.” When minis
ters become low spirited aud dis
couraged ou account of apparent
failures, they should reflect ou these
examples and facts as they are recor
ded in the Scriptures. God has a peo
ple in the world; He has ordaiued that
by the foolishness of preaching He
»ave mem that believe.
When we let fear of failure drive
ne from our post to seek some other
place may not God in His providence
say to ns, as He said to Elijah,
“What doest thou here, Elijah
Christian Observer.
A MURMURING MOTHER.
I was tired of washing dishes; I
was tired of druger3-. It had always
been so, and I was dissatisfied. I
never sat down a moment to read,
that Jamie didn’t want a cake, or a
piece of paper to scribble on, or a bit
of soap to make bubbles. “I’d rather
be in prison,” I said one day, “than
have my life teased out so,” as Jamie
knocked my elbow, when I was wri
ting to- a li i«»d,
lint a morning came when I had
one less plate to wash, one chair the
less to set away by the wall in the di
uingrooin; when Jamie’s little crib
was put away into the garret, and it
has never come down since. I had
been unusually fretful and disconten
ted with him that damp May morn
ing that lie took the croup. Gloomy
weather gave hie the headache, and I
had less patience than at any other
time. By and by he was singing in
another room’,
“1 want to be.au angel
and presently rang out that metallic
croup cough. I never heard that
hymn since, that it does uot cut me
to the heart; for the croup cough
rings out with it. lie grew worse
towards night, aud when uiy husband
came borne he went for the doctor.
At first he seemed to help him, but
it merged into inflammation croup,
and was soon over.
i‘I ought to have been called in
sooner,” said the doctor.
I have a servant to wash the dish
es now ; aud when a visitor comes
I cau sit down and entertain her
without having to work all the time.
There is no little boy to worry me to
open bis jackknife, there are no sha
vings. The magazines are not soiled
with looking at the pictures, but
stand prim and neat on the reading
table, just as l leave them.
“Your carpet never looks dirty,”
say weary worn mothers to me.
“Oh, no,” I mutter to thyself,
“there are no muddy little boots to
dirty it now.”
__ But my lace is as weary as theirs’
weary of sitting in my lonesome par
lor at twilight, weary with watching
or the little arms that used to twine
around my neck, for the little curls
that brushed against my cheeks, for
the young laugh that rang out with
rniue, as we watched the blazing coal
(ire or made rabbits with the shad
ows ou the wall, waitiug merrily to
gether for papa to come home. I
have the wealth and ease I longed
for, hut at what price ?
Reader—young mother, you may
be—bad you heard this mother tell
her story you would have felt dis
posed with the writer to say, “I will
be more patient with my little ones 1
will murmur less."—Selected.
NO SECRETS.
The momenta girl has a secret
from her mother, or has received a
letter she dare not let her mother
read, or has a friend of wbern her
mother does uot know, she is in dan
ger. A secret is uot a good thing
for a girl to have. The fewer secrets
that lie in the beartsof women at any
age, the better. It is almost a test of
her purity. She who has noue of her
own is best aud happiest.
In girlhood, hide nothing from
your mother; do nothing that, if dis
covered by your father, would make
you blush. When you are married
never, never, never conceal anything
from your husband. Never allow
yourself to writo a letter that he
may uot know all about, or receive
one that you are not quite willing he
should' read. Have no mysteries
whatever. Tell those about you
where you go and what you do. Those
who have the right to know, I mean,
ol course.
A tittle secretiveness Inis set many
a scaudal atloat; and much as is
said about women ivlio tell too much
they are better oft'than women who
tell too little. A man may be reti
ceut, and lie uuder no suspicion ; not
so a woman.
The girl who frankly says to her
mother; “I have been here. 1 met
and so. Such and such remarks
were made, or this or that was done,”
wilj be certain of receiving; good ad
vice aud sympathy. If all was right
no fault will be fouud. It' the mother
knows out of her greater experience
that something was improper or un
suitable, she will, if she is a good
mother, kindly advise agaiust its
repetition.
Some mothers wheu they discover
that their girls are hiding things
from them, rebuke or scold. Inno
cent faults are always pardoned by a
kind pareut.
You may not know, girls, just what
is right—just what is wrong yet. Yon
can’t be blamed for making little
mistakes, but you will never do any
thing very wrong if from the first
you have no secrets from your moth
er.—Preit, Journal.
rm.
Jnrm and
PRACTICAL HINTS.
To whiten ivory—boil in lime wa
ter.
To clean ziuc—rub on fresh lard
with cloth and wipe dry.
Never put a pudding that is to be
steamed in auythiug else than a dry
mould.
Paint splashed upon a window glass
can be easily removed by a strong se
lution of soda.
Old potatoes may lie freshened up
by pluugiug them into cold water be
fore cookiug them.
loaves will be full of holes.
To give stoves a good polish—rub
them with a piece of brussels carpet
after blackening them.
A mixture of oil and ink is good to
clean kid boots with ; the first softens
and the latter blaekeus them.
Two ounces of permanganate of po
tassa thrown into a eistern'Xiji ren
der the foulest water sweet and pure.
New linen, may be embioideied
more easily by rubbing it over with
tine white soap; it prevents the
thread lrom cracking. ,
A flannel cloth dipped into warm
soap suds, then into whining, and ap
plied t > paint, will instantly remove
all grease.
BUCKWHEAT FOR BEES.
A good deal has been said for and
against, as regards bnckwheat being!
a good honey plant, and whether it
paid to litter np a farm with the in
eradicable stuff, for the sake of breed
ing a few bees. Recent experiments
by prominent and extensive apiarists
in this and neighboring States, satis
fy us without doubt that buckwheat
is valuable as a houey plant. It was
found in these experimental beds
that the silver hull variety has more
flowers on the plants, and yields more
to the acre. The honey is dark, bnt
is preferred to all other kinds by
some people. It blooms from four to
six weeks alter sowing.
It will do fairly well on any soil,
but thrives best on rich soil. It
should be sown broadcast, three
pecks to the acre. It Is usually sown
here late in July, but for bees it had
better be sown early iu June, then it
will bloom “the middle of July,” when
bloom is usually absent, aud will, we
think, yield just as well; though we
judge simply from observing small
plauts. The cultivation before sow
ing should be deep aud thorough. It
is safe in estimating that each acre of
bnckwheat sown within 1J miles of
any apiary is worth $100.—Minnesota
Farmer.
ERRORS IN THE MANAGEMENT OE POUL
TRY.
Because the largest aud finest spe
cimens of young fowls are the most
desirable to kill off aud the small
and inferior ones aud the old hens
are saved to lay eggsTand raise chick
ens. The repetition of this plau from
year to year is the most effectual one
on earth to degenerate the flock un
profitable for eggs, the old hens be
coming worthless and diseased, and
the young ones will be dwarfed and
feeble.
It seldom pays to keep hens the
third year. With age, they become
great eaters, fatten, stop laying, get
diseased and die. They may not eu
tirely stop laying, but are not profi
table layers.
To improve the flock pursue the op
posite course from the one first men
tioned. Select for the market all the
old fowls and the inferior specimens
of young ones. Especially avoid the
great error of in-and-in breeding.
Change the cockrels every year
either by purchasing or exchanging !
with a neighbor. Iu doing so never
select an interior specimen. Pure
bread fowls being more potent are
the most desirable.—Stock F. if II.
Weekly.
It is a waste of capital to buy ex-1
pensive animals aud undertake to I
keep them upon poor pastures or
poor hay. To attempt to make up
the difference by feeding upon grain
will take off all the profit, and the
animals will inevitably deteriorate.
There is no food that can be profita
bly substituted, in the long run, for
grass and hay.
The loss yearly to the people ot
the South by the ravages of the cot
ton worm is estimated to be $12,000,
000, which is iucreased twice aud oue
hall as much in extremely bad years
Renew your subscription to the
I SUN.
ocLtui tu Htutini.
- h
Foe Surf, Eyeb —1Take two t-.iblc
spooufuls of boney, tablespoonfol
sail., tablespoonful tincture of balsam
bmls, tablespoon fill gum pine. Make
rt paste and put it over tlie eyes A
tbin clotb to go on tbe eyes lirsf.
Relief for Dyspepsia.—Burn -
alum until tbe moisture in it is evap
orated ; tben take as much as you
can put on a dime, about half an
hour before eating. Three or four
d«y s will probably answer, but take
it until cored.
Salve foe Cuts and Burns.—
lake three carrots and grate them,
place is a vessel and cover with fresh
lard : boil thoroughly, strain and add
lutirrnn to ftale * paste.
This Is a valuable ointment for cuts
and burns and wounds of any kind.
To Prepare an Ego for an In
valid.—Beat au egg until very light
add seasoning to the taste, then
steam until thoroughly warmed, but
not powdered. This will take about
two minutes. Au egg prepared in
this way will uot distress even very
sensitive stomachs.
Cork for Scouring—Having *
tried several different things—a bit
of cloth, part of a potato, &u ,—none
of which were quite satisfactory, I
think I can now exclaim, Eureka!
1 have found that a large cork (au
inch jug cork, costing one cCnt) is
very nice, being both stiff' and tlexi
ble, and the knives are polished with
very little exertion.
Baked Meat with Potatoes.—
Pare nice potatoes, cutting large
ones in two, and place them in a
dripping pan. Take a good roasting
piece of either beef, mutton, pork, or
veal, season well with pepper and salt
and put it atop of the potatoes, aild
bake in a quick oven. Tbe meat
should be fat enough to uurke sufficient
drippings to baste with, otherwise
butter or good lard should be added.
Xo water is needed uutil abput ten
minutes before tbe meat is done,
when a little should be put in the
pan, and the meat should be*dredged
with flour. After the meat and pota
toes are dished, a nice gravy should
he made from the drippings in the
pan.
iS-'I ---■*+-* .—
The sowing of clover seed, I think,
is one of the most important and pro
titable things that is done on the
farm ; for, in my optuiou, clover is
our main reliance in keeping up the
tilth and fertility of the soil on our
large farms. Clover is the only grass
that we raise for hay that does uot
exhaust but continues to improve the
laud as long as it grows. The roots
of the clover plant, penetrating very
deep into the soil, looseuing and en
riching it with its different elemeuts
of fertility, it is said by practical far
mers, enrich the soil fully as much as
the tops of the plant. I think with a
proper rotation of crops that with
clover alone lapd can be kept as rich
as you might desire it; but you must
have your land rich enough, in the
first place, to produce and grow clo
ver, for it is useless and a waste of
money and time to sow clover seed on
poor land.
I think that the best time to sow
clover seed in the spring is from the
15th of March to the 1st of April.
Seeded earlier than this, I have
known it to be killed by slight freez
ing of the ground. The young clover
plant, before it has four leaves, is ve
ry tender, and is easily killed by
slight freezing, as I know from my
own experience. A few years since,
I seeded clover and orchard grass on
a piece of rich lowgrouuds, upon
which I had just seeded oats. The
land was in flue condition to receive
the grass seed. It was the 1st of
.March, and the weather continued
good and mild until the clover and
orchard grass came up. I examined
it, and never saw a better stand of
grass. In a day or two there was a
heavy frost and slight freeze, and
more than half of the yonug clover
was killed out—the orchard grass
was not hurt, and I cut several fine
crops of hay from the land.
After seeding the clover seed one
and a half gallous ou low-grounds,
and one gallon on highland, I ran a
two-horse harrow directly after the
hands who are seeding. This secures
a much better stand of clover, and is
very improviug to the wheat. If the
wheat is very thin, aud the ground
cloddy, I prefer to run a roller, as the
harrow in that case would be apt to
cover and pull up too much of the
| wheat. I think that thick seeding is
| very necessary ou our lowgronnds to
keep down the growth of other grai
i aud weeds.
T. M. Deitbick.
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