The new dominion. [volume] (Morgantown, W. Va.) 1876-1904, 1882-09-02

"This' said Mr.. Spoopendyke, as
he gazed around on his acquisition
Of six acres, "this, my dear, is what
/ have always wanted. A farm and
n farmers life are the highways to
happiness, Mrs. Spoopendyke, don't
you think sop
Its perfectly lovely" rejoined
Mrs. Spoopendykc. II was born
on farm, and was always healthy,
though had to go good ways for
water
I'll fix that, my DEAR" returned
Mr.. Spoopendyke. "Tll bring the
water. Now where are my agricul-
tural reports? must plant right off
If we are going to have crops, and
when they're ripe we'll take them to
market"
II see the report says you must
give your hen chopped turnip once
in awhile" said Mrs. Spoopcndykc,
putting her thumb on the paragraph.
EITHER that or cabbages," returned
her husband. II don't know whether
we'll have cabbagcs enough" he con-
tinued musingly.
"You must have less buckwhcat,"
suggested Mrs. Spoopendyke. II
would think though, that two acres
would be enough for one hen, and il
it isn't you can buy load now and
then from the neighbors."
"'ll think that over" replied Mr..
Spoopcnkdye. Here's one thing ]
don't understand. 1t says we should
test a few seeds before planting to
made sure they will terminate, but
it don't say how to do it,
"May be it means to boil them,"
suggested Mrs. Spoopcndyke, "or
perhaps you"
"Oh perhaps you think it means
to crack en- with an AK to see il
they are hard! Well, you don't;
you put acid on 'em. I'll get some
acid and drop 'em in, and II it dis
colors 'em they're no good, and If it
don't they're all right. l think we
ought to have some weevil for the
pig"
II don't know where you're going
to plant it," said Mrs. Spoopcndykc,
sunless it will grow with buckwheat
or onions You can't put it in with
the cabbage because the pig and hen
would fight"
"Do you know what weevil is?"
demanded Mr.. Spoopendyke, glaring
at his wife. SCOT notion it's some
kind of weed for the pig to smoke,
haven't you? Imagine it's gilt-edged
note paper with monogram for him
to write on, don't you. Well, it isn't
a swallow-tail coat or plug hat for
him to 60 to church in, either! You
don't plant weevil, Mrs. Spoopen-
dyke, any more than you do soap,
or clothes-pins, or stair-rods. You
buy it in barrels, and I'll order
somc."
II think we ought to have some
lace curtains for the front windows"
suggested Mrs. Spoopendyke, aHx-
ious to change the conversation.
Eyes, and we want a folding bed
stead for the COW, and we've got to
have new arm chair for the pig, and
I'm afraid those cabbages won't do
without wet nurser' squealed Mr..
Spoopendyke. II suppose I've got
to hire man to see that the meadow
don't go fishing on Sunday and upset
your religious notions. Oh!you're
farmers wife, you are. III had time
to write an index to you and some
dod gasted binder to fix you up with
a fiy-leaf, you'd make a whole agri-
cultura; reportr'
And Mr.. Spoopendyke shot into
the house and to bed. while his wife,
having put all the oil lamps into
buckets Of water SO they couldn't ex-
plode during the night, fell asleep
dreaming that che cabbage patch had
elopcd with the onions, while the COW
and pig had died Of weevil, and the
windmill had abandoned agricultural
pursuits and started off through Ohio
preaching the Gospel.