The Stourbridge Observer, Cradley Heath, Halesowen & District Chronicle.
Stourbridge, West Midlands, England, 1883-12-29 00:00:00

FARMER OCKLEBERRY'S STEWARD.

Now, in spite of his Conservative tendencies, and
his affection to the good old days and their profuse
customs, Farmer Ockleberry was quite aware that
husbandry had become a science; and so it was that,
unable to take up with the new•fangled theories and
modern inventions himself, he had engaged a mann-
ing steward—one Angus McFayden MacAnderson—
who was steeped up to the very button of his Glen•
garry cap in scientific agriculture, and who was
allowed to "gang his own gait," whilbt his sturdy em-
ployer kept up the generous traditions of the old-
fashioned British yeomanry.
As Farmer Ockleberry came singing cheerily from
the kitchen, the steward stepped out from the little
room in which he kept his accounts and conducted
his experiments, and beckoned to the yeoman. "Hi,
mon I" he began, "I want a ward wi ye. It's aboot
that fleck o' South Downs. Ye ken they rayquires
shearing."

" Why not have them sheared, then?" said the
farmer? "there's Botley hnd Bumfield, both handy
lads with the shears. Shall I--"
"fool, mon, it wad be jiat a ',hoar waste o'
valyble wool. But ye must know tit when I was at
Mucham AQrichltaral Show, I saw a verra braw
mickle maychine for elefping the wool off by elec-
treecity, and it's that I thocht o' trying."

_
"Very well," assented the farmer • "so long as 1
can give a sheep-shearing supper to the men after the
job's over, / don't care what you use."
" Verra guid,' said the steward; and then, seeing
the farmer gazing with wonder at certain mouthpieces
hanging against the wall, he went on. "Jest put your
ear to one o' them. Do ye hear aught 14 "

"Why, there's something keeps on popping like
mad l" answered the astonished farmer,

" Exactly ! " exclaimed Mac Anderson, " it's just
the new seed on your fourteen•acre piece that ye can
hear garminating and sprouting in the airtb. Try
this one," he added, pointing to another of the
athescope like articles, "and yell bs able to judge how
your turnips are trowing."

- - -
" Wonderful ! wonderful ! " ejaculated the astoniehecl
yeoman.

"By this meanie, ye ken," explained his steward, " I
am able to regelate the growth o' the crops, and to
keep 'em back, or hurry 'em forrard, as the case may
be. Now these beans," be added, putting his ear
to a third of the stethescopes as he spoke, "are filling
out too speedily, so I tttust e'en gie them a sprinkli ig
of anti deveelopment phosphateby-and-bye."

" Hullo ! " cried the farmer, looking into a sack,
"what have we here? Seed potatoes?"
"Nay, nay, mon ! don't, be after touching those.
They are a sample of the new dynamite balls for plough-
ing. We just lay down a few in a field and explode
them, and the land's as thoroughly turned over as
though there'd been a young airthqnake."
"Es hi then you've done away with the plough then,
now, have you?" queriei Farmer Ockleberry, with a
deep sigh. "And, by the way, Mr. Mac Anderson,
he continued, "when are we to have our harvest home?
There's a couple of fat pigs I'm keeping on purpose for
the supper, and 'Bednego and the other fellows are
getting almost aiezad rampant about it."
"liairvest home is it ye're asking for?" returned
the steward. "Well, ye can has it when ye please."
"But the harvest isn't home," objected the farmer;
"and I've been keeping the one eyed fiddler that
plays 'The Last Load Up ! ' on board wages these
three weeks, and the young people are longing for the
dance we have on the green when the last rick is
y lathed."

"Look ye here, Mr. Ockleberry," answered the
steward, " ye can tell that feedler to start that toon
o' his right awn', for the hairvest is home, last load
and all, as much as it ever will be. Why, on Satur-
day next I shall I agd ye ower a muckle cheque for a'
the year's wheat and bairley."

"But where is it all, then?" asked the bewildered
JabE z Ockleberry.
-

"Woy, made- into bread and malt lang ago," re.
turned the steward. "We modern farmers nae let
the grass grow umier our feet. Listen to me, net'.
Your wheat was all cut before breakfast last Thum.
day week by electreecity, it wat thrashed by hydraulic
pressure before noon, and deleevered in Liverpool
Docks the same evening through pneumatic tubes."

... -
"Bless us aid save us ! you don't mean to say so ? "
exclaimed the sturdy yeoman.

"Nay, but I do, MOn, and that's the only way to
keep pace wi' the competeetion o' the times. But
hae to pardon me, Farmer okleberry, for I has
an appointment this forenoon wi' a pairty as has
brought me a milking maychine to try on the coos.
It tackles fourteen at once. But mayhap come
alang wi' me and see it?"

" Here come the coos !" cried Mac Anderson, draw.
ing his companion aside; and in a few moments a
number of terrified quadrupeds rushed by, followed
by a mechanical dog, belching forth sparks and smoke,
and clattering like an automatic cashsbox running
down a flight of stone steps.
" Oh ! you have not seen the electric collie before;"
observed Mac Anderson, pressing a button by the side
of the barn door, whichst once reduced the mechanical
sheep dog to an inert mass of watchspring and metal.
"But you seem in deep thought, Maister Ockleberry.
Whst is it, sir? what is it?"
"Oh !" exclaimed the farmer, suddenly aroused
from his lethargy, " I was only thinking bow long
it would be before you would 'grit mechanical cows
too."

" That's verra funny, noo," returned the steward,
"for I received a prospectus o' something o' the sairt
this very morning. If tile milking maychine dinna
answer wed, I'll be after giving the artifeecial coo a
trial."—From " An Agricultural Romance," by Aglen
A. Dowty," in Bood's Comic Annual.

MINIATURE TREES —The Ohineee have a mania for
dar.rtmg not only their women's feet, but also for
growing miniature pines and oaks in flower-pots. For
many years they have kept secret their method of
procedure, which has at length been found out. Take
a young plant or seedling, when only two or three
inches high, cut off its top root as soon as it has suf-
ficient small roots to live upon, then replant in a
shallow earthern pot or pan. Alluvial clay is then
put into the pot, in hits about the size of beans, only
just enough to nourish the plant. The miniature
trees are scantily supplied with light and warmth
and pegged and wired down in order to produce fan-
tastic ehape4 ; the gardener prunes and sears the
roots with hot irons, and the poor little starvelir,f
gives up all attempt at growing • each fresh set of
leaves becomes smaller and smaller, the buds and
rootlets are equally dwarfed, and in a period ranging
from ten to fifteen years the miniature tree has
arrived at perfection.