The weekly pioneer and Democrat. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. Territory) 1855-1865, 1864-03-18
THE BAROMETER The following extracts

THE BARoMETER-The following extracts
from one of Henry Ward Beecher's letters from
the country, suggests the practical use and
value to farmers of WOOdruff's Patent Portable
Barometer, the most convenient and cheap as
we'll as reliable instrument of the kind manu-.
featured:
1t is five o'clock. * A hundred
birds, yes. five hundred birds, are singing as
birds never sing except in the morning. A
few chlmneys send up slow, wreathing cOl=
umn of smoke which grows every moment
paler the new kindled fires below burn
brighter. The clouds hang low on
the mountains On every side. Their ragged
edges comb the mountain side. and look as if
they must sway the trees in their course. Yet
they move with such sof: drowsy measure that
not a leaf stirs. Will it rain to-day? The
heavens overhead look like it. The clouds
around the mountain hang low as if there were
rain coming. But the Barometer saws No.
l tnsn a lew rounds with the scythe before
We must make hay while the sun
shines shines! The day passes and the night.
With another morning. and that Saturday
morning, comes up the sun without cloud to
wipe its face upon. The air is clear and crvs.
tal-nO mist OH the river, no fleece on the
mountain, and yet the barometer is sinking
and has been sinking all night. 1t has fallen
more IMAM quarter OF an inch, and continues
slowly to fall. Our plans must be laid accord
ingly. We will cut the clover which is to be
cured in the cock, and prepare to getin all
yesterdays moving before two o'clock. Not
till ten o'clock is any change seen. Then the
suns light seems pale. and. although no cloud
is before it, some invisible vapor has struck
through the atmosphere BY and by the clouds
begin to form, loose, vast, cumbrous, that roll
and change their unwieldly shapes and take on
every shade OF color that lies between the
darkest leaden gray and the most brilliant sill
yer grey. While catching our hastv meal az
fairs grew critical. The sun is hidden The
noon grows dark All hands are summoned.
All the girls and ladies come forth TO
the fray. Delicate hands are making lively
work. raking up the dispersed grass and flying
with right nimble steps here and there. bent
on cheating the rain of its expected prev: and
now the long winrOws are formed The last
load of hay from the other fields has rolled
triumphantly into the barn. y A drop pats
down upon my face. another and another
Look at those baseless mountains that tower
in the west. black as ink at the bottom, glow
ing like suow at the top edge-what gigantic ev-
OlutiOns, They open, unfold, change form,
flash lightAaing through their space, close up
their black CULTS, and move on with irresista-
BILE but silent march through the heated air.
Far In the north the rain has begun to sheet
down upon old Gray-Lock. But the sun il
shining through the shower and changing it
to a golden atmosphere. in which the noun
tain lifts up its heed like glOrifed martyr
amid his prosecutions! Only one look can we
snare. and all run for the house, and in good
time. Down comes the food. and every drop
is musical. We pity the neighbors, who, not
varnnd by the Barometer, are racing and chas-
inc to save their outlaying crops.
See advertisement Of D. A. Robertson, Agent,
in another column.