Connecticut western news., 1891-04-22
AGRICULTURE.

G% -zl&A
 HE Barclay County
 Agricultural so ci e ty
 having seriously in-
 vited the author of
 - this volume to address them on the occasion of their next an nual fair, he wrote the president of that society as follows:
 NEW YORK, June 12, 1865.
 DEAR SR-I have the honor to ac- knowledge the receipt of your letter of the 9th inst, in which you invite me to deliver an address before your excellent agricultural society.
 I feel Aattered, and think will come. Perhaps, meanwhile, brief history of my experience as an agnculturist will be acceptable, and as that history no doubt contains suggestions of value to the entire agricultural community, have concluded to write you through the press.
 I have been an honest old farmer for some years.
 My farm is in the interior of Maine. Unfor tunate1y 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 I hav'n't any to haul, do not, after all, suffer much on that account.
 My farm is moro especially a grass farm.
 My neighbors told me so at first, and as an evidence that they were sincere in that opinion, they turned their COWS on to 1t the moment I went off '1ectur- ing"
 These COWS are now quite fat. take pride in these cows, in fact, and am glad own grass farm.
 Two years ago tried sheep raising.
 bought fifty lambs and turned them loose on my broad and beautiful acres.
 It was pleasant on bright mornings to stroll leisurely out on to the farm in my dressing gown, with cigar in my mouth, and watch those innocent little lambs as they danced gayly OCT the hill- side. Watching their saucy capers re- minded me of caper sauce, and it oc- cured to me I should have some very fine eating when they grew up to be 'smuttons.'' ..-
  said, I've must have some shepherd dogs"
 had no very precise idea as to what shepherd dogs were, but I assumed a rather profound look, and said:
 "We must, Eli. Ispoke to you about this some time ago!'
 wrote to my old friend, MT. Dexter H. Follett, of Boston, for two shepherd dogs. MT. F. is not an honest old farmer himself, but I thought he knew about shepherd dogs. He kindly forsook far more important business to accommo- date, and the dogs came forthwith. They were splendid creatures snuff col ored, hazel eyed, long tailed and shapely jawed.
 We led them proudly to the fields.
 ''Turn them in, Ei," said. Eli turned them in. They went in at once and killed twen- ty of my best lambs in about four min- utes and half. My friend had made trifing mistake in the breed of these dogs. These dogs were not partial to sheep. Eli Perkins was astonished and ob- served: "Waal! did you everr' certainly never had. There were pools of blood on the >greensward, and fragments of wool and raw lamb chops lay round in confused heaps.
 The dogs would have been sent to Bos- ton that night, had they not suddenly died that afternoon of a throat distem- per. It wasn't swelling of the throat. It wasn't dphtheria. It was Q violent 1 opening of the throat, extending from ear to ear.
 Thus close their life stories. Thus ended their interesting tails. l failed as a raiser of lambs. As Q l sheepist, was not success. Last summer MT. Perkins said, ''I think we 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 verse, down in Jersey every summer; so does the brilliant Aldrich, at Portsmouth, N. H. And yet doubt if either of these men knows the price of ton of hay to- day But new mown hay is a really fine thing. It Is good for man and beast.
 | We hired four honest farmers to assist us, and I led them gayly to the mead ! ows.
 Twas going to mow, myself. saw the sturdy peasants go round onceere dipped ny flashing scythe into the tall green grass. l "Are you ready"' said E. Perkins. II am here!'
 "Then follow us'' | followed them. Followed them rather too closely e1- deu1y, for . white haired old man, who immediately followed MT. Perkins, call- ed upon US to halt. Then in low, firm voice he said to his son, who was just ahead of me: "John, change places with me. I hain't got long to live, anyhow. Wonder 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-yoat are young." l The old man changed places with his son. A smile of calm resignation lit up his wrinkled face as he said, ''Now, sir, | I am readyr'
 "What mean you, old mani" said.
 q mean that if you continner to II