Delaware gazette. [volume] (Delaware, Ohio) 1855-1886, 1866-01-05
NEw York, June u. 1865.

He wrote the President of that Society a
follows
NEW York, June u. 1865.
DEAR SIR: have the honor to ac
knowledge the receipt of your letter o
the 9th inst, IN which you invite me tt
deliver an address before your excellent
agricultural society.
/ feel fattered, and l think [ will come
Perhaps, meanwhile, a brief history OF
my experience as an agriculturist will be
/ acceptable; and as that history, no doubt
. / contains suggestions Of value to the en-.
/ tire agricultural community, l have con-
cluded to write you through the press.
/ bly, farm Is in the interior of Maine.
! unfortunately my lands are eleven miles
! from the railroad. Eleven miles is quite
! a distance to haul immense quantities of
/ wheat, corn, rye and oats, but as [ haven t
any to haul, do not, after all, suffer much
/ on that account.
! Ay farm IS more especially grass farm.
( My nelghbOrs told me so at first, and
( as an evidence that they we're sincere in
/ that opinion, they turned their cows on
/ to It the moment 1 went off " lecturing "
| Those COWS are now quite fat. | take
/ pride IN those cows, in fact, and am glad
! 1 own grass farm.
Two years ago tried sheep raising.
kuInEu tlGIl
! loose on my broad ami beautiful acres.
| 1t was pleasant on bright mornings to
stroll IelsuTely out on the farm in my
dresslng-goW with a segar in my mouth,
aud watch those innocent little lambs as
they danced gaIly o or the hill side
Watching their saucy capers reminded me
Of caper sauce, and it occurred to me I
should have some very fine eating when
they grew up to be muttons.
My gentle shepherd, Mr. Eli Perkins.
SAID, We must have some shepherd
dogs.
L had no very precise idea as to what
shepherd dogs were, but [ assumed ra-
ther profound look and said
= We must. Eli. I spoke to YOU about
this some time ago.
1 wrote to my old friend, DR.. Dexter
n. Eollett, Of Boston, for two shepherd
dogs. He kindly f0rsOOk far more i'm
portant business to accommodate me, and
the dogs came forthwith. They were
splendid creatures -colored. hazel
eyed, long tailed and sharply-iawed
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 friends had made quite q mistake in
the breed Of these dogs.
These dogs were not partial to sheen.
Eli Perkins was astonished, and OBJ
served,
" Wall, did you eyer?''
l certainly never had
There were pools Of blood on the green
sWard, and fragments Of wool and raw
lamb lay around in confused heaps
The dogs would have been sent to Bos-
ton that night had they not rather sud
denly died that afternoon of a throat dis
temper. 1t WASH a swelling of the throat.
1t wasn't diptherla. 1t was a violent
opening Of the throat from ear to ear.
Thus closed their life-stories. Thus
ended their Interesting tails.
L failed as a raiser of lambs. As a
sheeplst, L was not a success.
Last summer Mr.. Perkins said -
think we'd better cut some grass this sea-
son. sir.
We cut some grass.
To me the new mOwn hay Is very sweet
and nice. The brilliant George Arnold
sings about it, in beautiful verses, down
in Jersey every summer, so does the bril-
liant AIdrieh. at Portsmouth \. 81.
And yet 1 doubt if either of these men
know the price OF ton of hay to-day.
But new-mown hay Is really a fine thing.
Lt5is good for man and beast.
w G hired four honest farmers to assist
us and l led them gaily to the meadow.
| was going to NOW, myself
l saw the sturdy peasants go round once
ere l dipped my flashing scythe into the
tall green grass
:. :. Are you ready?'' said E. Perkins.
"Then fOller us
follered them,
Following them rather too closely, eyI-
IDENTIFY for a white haired old man, who
Immediately followed Mr.. Perkins. called
upon us to halt. Then, in "a low, firm
voice, he said to his son, who was just
ahead of me, John change pieces with
me. I hajn't got long to live, anyhow.
Yonder berryin ground will soon have
these old bones, and its no matter wheth-
er [ am carried there with one leg off and
terrib' gashes in the other or not. But
you, JOhn-yOu are young. "
The old man changed places with his
son, and a smile OF calm resignation lit uT
his wrinkled face, as he said Now, sir
| am ready"
What mean you, old man " I said
. mean that If you continue to bran =
| ish that blade as you have bran ish 1t,
you IL slash h-OUt of some Of US before
we're hour older.
There was some reason mingled
U
| profanity. 1t was true that had twice
narrowly escaped moving off his sons
legs, and his father was perhaps naturally
! alarmed.
| [ went and sat down under d. tree. s.
never know literary man in my life,
[ overheard the old man say, that know
anything.
Mr. Perkins was not as valuable to me
this season as [ had fancied he would be
! Every afternoon he disappeared from tbs
| field regularly, and remained about some
two hours He said iJ was headache. He
inherited it from his mother. His moth
er was often taken in that way, and suf
fered good deal.
At the end of two hours Mr.. Perkins
would reappear with his head neatly don,
up in large wet rag, and said he - fel
better. j.
One afternoon it so happened that
soon followed the invalid to the house
and as [ neared the porch I heard a fe
male voice energetically observe, Yol
Stopl" Tt was the voice of the hiret
girl and she added, "I'll holler for Mr.
Brown !
'' Oh, no, Nancy, heard the invali,
e. Perkins soothingly say: Mr.. Brow
knows I love you. Mr.. Brown approves
it.
This was pleasant for Mr.. Brown
[ peered cautiously through the kitchen
blinds, and however unnatural it may ap
Z reor the Inns Of Eli Pe-kinsand nv hirei