Vermont watchman and State journal. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1836-1883, 1866-01-12
MtstflI anfous.
ARTRMUs WARDS EXPERIENCE AS
A FARMER

having seriously invited the author OF this
volume to address them on the occasion Of
their next annual fair, he wrote to the presi-
dent Of that society as follows;
New YoRK, June 10, 1865.
DKAR Sra: have the honor to acknowl-
edge the receipt Of your letter OF the 5th inst,
in which you invite me to deliver An address
before your excellent Agricultural Society.
] feel Hatsered, and think will come.
Perhaps, meanwhile, brief history Of my
experience as an agriculturist will be accept.
able; and as that history no doubt contains
suggestions OF value to the entire agricultu-
raj community, have concluded to write YOU
through the press.
have been an honest old farmer for some
four years.
Ny farm is 10 the interior OF Maine. I'm
fortunately my lands are eleven miles from
the railroad. Eleven miles is quite distance
TO haul immense quantities of wheat, corn,
rye, and oats, but as haven't any to haul,
do not after sill suffer much on that account
Ny farm is more especially grass farm.
Ny neighbors told me so at first, and, IS
an evidence that they were sincere il that
opinion, they turned their cows on to it the
moment went off "lecturing."
These cows are now quite fat. take pride
in these cows. in fact, and am glad own a
grass farm.
Two years ago tried sheep raising.
bough fifty lambs, and turned them loose
on my broad and beautiful acres
1t was pleasant en- bright mornings to stroll
leisurely out to the farm in my dressing. gown,
with cigar in my mouth, and watch those
innocent little lambs as they danced gayly
DER the hillside. Watching their saucy ca
pers reminded me of caper sauce, and il &C.
CURED to me should have very fine eating
when they grew up to be " muttons.,
Ny gentle shepherd Mr.. Eli Perkins, said,
1--WE must have some shepherd dogs."
had no very precise idea as to what shep-
herd dogs were, but assumed rather pro-
found look, and said :
"We must, Eli. spoke to you about this
some time ago -
wrote to my old friend, Mr.. Dexter H.
Toilet, OF Boston, for two shepherd dogs
Mr.. Toilet is an honest old farmer himself,
but thought he knew about shepherd dogs.
He kindly forsook far more important bust
moss to accommodate, and the dogs came forth
with. They we're splendid creatures---snuff-
colored, hazel-eyed, long tailed and shapely-
jawed
We led them proudly to the fields.
Turn them in, Eli" said.
Eli turned them in.
They went in at once, and killed twenty Of
my best lambs in about four minutes and a
half.
My friend had made some uihing mistake
in the breed of these dogs.
These dogs were not partial to sheep.
Eli Perkins was asionished, and observed:
"Wall, did you ever :"
certainly never had.
There are pools of blood on the greens ward,
and fragments of wool and raw lamb chops
lay round in confused heaps.
The dogs would have been sent to Boston
that night, had they not rather suddenly died
that afternoon from throat dstemper. 1t
wasn't a swelling of the throat, it wasn't diph-
liberia. 1t wal aviolent opening of the throat,
extending from ear to ear.
Thus closed their life-stories. Thus ended
their interesting tales.
! failed as raiser Of lambs. As a sheep
let was not success.
Last summer Mr.. Perkins said, " think
we'd better cut some grass this season, sir"
We cut some grass.
To me the new-mown hay is very sweet and
nice. The brilliant George Arnold sings
about il, in beautiful verse, down in Jersey
every summer SO does the brilliant Aldrich,
at Por' lmouth, New Hampshire. And yet
dovlt II either Of these men know the price
Of ton of hay to-day. But new-mown hay
is really fine thing. 1t is good for man and
beast.
We hired four honest farmers to assist us,
and we led them sayly to the meadows.
was going 10 NOV myself.
saw the sturdy peasants 90 round once
ere dipped my flashing scythe into the tall
green grass.
"Are you ready ," said E. Perkins.
81 am here"
"Then follow us r.
followed them.
Followed them rather too closely, evident
ly, for white-haired old man, who immedi-
ately followed Mr.. Perkins, called upon us to
halt. Then in low, firm voice he said to his
son, who wasjust ahead off me, John, change
places with me. hsin't got long to live, any
how. Yonder berryin' ground will soon have
these old bones and it's no matter whether
I'm carried there with one leg off and terrible
gashes in the other or not But you, John
you are young"
The old man changed places with his son,
and calm smile of recognition lit up his |
wrinkled face, as he said Nov, sir, am
readyr"
"Whst mean you old man !" said.
" ! mean that If you contnner to brsn'ish
that blade as you have been bran'ishing it,
you will slash h. out OF some OF us before
we're hour olderr
There was some reason mingled with this
white-haired old peasants profanity. II was
true that had twice escaped moving off his
sons legs, and his father was perhaps natu-
rally alarmed.
went down and sat under tree. al
never know'd literary man in my life,"
overheard the old man say, that know'd
anything"
Mr.. Perkins was not as valuable to me this |
season as had fancied he would be. Every
afternoon he disappeared from the field regu- J
larly, and remained absent some two hours. !
He said it was headache he inherited it from |
his mother; his mother was often taken in |
that way, and suffered great deal.
At the end Of the two hours, Mr.. Perkins
would reappesr with his head neatly done NJ
in large wet rag. and say, p" he felt better"
One afternoon il SO happened that soon
followed the invalid to the house, and as | !
neared the porch heard female voice ener-
getically observe, You stopl" 1t was the
voice Of the hired girl. and she added, an |
holer for Mr.. Brown %
0 no, Nancy" heard the invalid K. Per-
kinA eOOthinQlv NJ R.oun Lno.. I