Year: 1873

GARDENING IN HoLLAND.-Fences
are rarely or never seen in Holland, fol
narrow paths or canals separate the
landed estates of the Dutch gardener
A correspondent of the Evening Post,
visiting some of these gardens, writes
thus pleasantly:


Passing through the curious old city
gate, marked "Anno 1871" we find
ourselves in a narrow street, having
small houses on one side and brick
wall on the other. Not very rural,
certainly. A small gate gives US a
glimpse into a most lovely garden, kept
with real Dutch neatness. An English
sign points the way to the "kantoor," "
or counting-room. This proves to be
a most extensive affair, with accommo-
dations for a dozen clerks. These gar
dens, we were told, have been cultivated
for over two hundred years, and have
not changed much in appearance in
that time. The present owner has ex-
tended his business greatly, and bought
up and added to his estate many small
gardens. Hence, the small size of the
lots. The place is shut in on every
side by trees and ornamented by many
fine shrubs and handsome fower-beds.
The owners dwelling-house opens into
the garden, in the usual charming
Dutch manner. Want of space pre-
vents a detailed description of this
lovely Dutch homestead, the residence
of taste, refinement, and wealth. The
soil in the garden is the usual polder-
peat mingled with sand. The sand
was carted on and mixed with the soil
long time ago, and now makes the
best soil for bulbs to be found. All of
the soil designed for bulbs is trenched
three feet deep. A trench or irregular
hole is dug in the corner, and the soil
removed in barrows to the opposite side
of the garden. Beside the first hole
another is opened, and its contents
thrown into the first. At the end the
contents of the first opening fill the last,
and the entire plot is turned utterly up
side down. The work is done in the
fall, and the surface is left rough, to
expose it as much as possible to the
action of the frost. All this is done by
hand. The spade land a poor one at
that) accomplishes everything. Infinite
pains, much labor, and careful attention
to details, mark every stage of this
7 lah
ness would never please the American
farmer. His mind turns more natural
ly to the horse-reaper and steam -plow.


MILK CELLAR.-A milk cellar will
be coolest when well sunk into the
earth, and not much above its surface,
Eight feet would be a good depth. The
windows near the top of the walls
should be protected from the sun by trees
or shrubs, or with blinds or shades; and
wire screens inside should be made to
exclude all insects. Covering the bot
tom with hydraulic cement will give it
neatness, but as the cement is not a
good conductor of heat, it will render
the cellar warmer in summer and cooler
in winter, by preventing access to the
earth. Good stone tagging would be
better in this respect, and hard burned
brick would be better than common
brick. There should be ventilating
fue run up from the upper part of the
apartment, in which the current of air
may be regulated by means of regis
ter.-Country Gentleman.


THE CHEcK-REIN.-Many cruelties
are inflicted upon the horse. The most
inexcusable is the check-rein.


We have just been watching styl-
ish team. Both horses are busy trying
TO release their heads. The head goes
to one side, then to the other, then the
nose is thrown up as high as possible
several times. And so it goes on with
out cessation. Their eyes we have
just been watching them-the torture
in the bent and constrained spine must
be intense their eyes show it. I'm
loose the checks in these high-headed
animals and they will hang their heads
down almost to the ground; they will
half close their eyes in this and other
ways they will show sense Of great
relief.


They say the horse looks better with
his head drawn up two feet higher than
where the Creator placed it. That's a
matter of taste. Some people have
said that the animal travels and pulls
better with check-rein. Try it your
self. Run mile, holding your person
and head erect. Try it again. Draw
a loaded hand-cart up hill and hold
yourself quite upright. You will never
advocate check-rein again.


The Creator knew how to make a
horse. He knew on which end to put
the head, and just how to put it on.
He taught the horse how to carry it.
We have always thought the thing
success.


Could the dumb creature speak, he
would say, my master, l know that l
was made to serve you, that I must
spend my whole life in toiling for your
interests, and l ask in return only such
comfort as suits your convenience. l
will not complain when you overwork
me and whip me, but l beg that you
will not force my head up out of its
natural place. 1t makes me stumble,
for | can't see where to step. 1t strains
my loins painfully when 1 have to draw
heavy load, and it lessons greatly my