"Methought, as I gazed through the darkness, that now And the whirl of the mighty wave seized me once more- On the youth gazed the monarch and marvell'd: quoth he, And this ring will I give, a fresh guerdon to thee— Then outspake the daughter, in tender emotion- He has served thee as none would, thyself hast confess'd: Let thy knights put to shame the exploit of the squire !" The king seized the goblet, he swung it on high, And heaven, as he listened, spoke out from the space, It pales-at the feet of her father she lies! How priceless the guerdon !-a moment-a breath They hear the loud surges sweep back in their swell, -- VOL I-No 2. F ON DRAINING. It is my intention to give a series of articles bearing on Horticulture and Agriculture such as is likely to benefit those who may possess from one rood of ground up to ten or more acres, as there are many of our merchants and tradesmen who have their houses either in the suburbs or the country, and are not conversant with either of the above branches, neither have they the time to devote to it. They search for information through books and newspapers till they get bewildered, and find nothing bearing on the object of search, as gardening and farming must both be carried on upon quite a different principle here to that in the mothercountry. Hence it must arise that we cannot adopt their theory and practice entire to our climate, neither have we arrived at anything like a state of perfection such as they have in England. The object that I have in view is to lay down a few practical hints or observations which, if they are put in practice (no wild theory), they may be the means of assisting those to whom these remarks are applied. This is the kind of information that is wanted. A person buys a small piece of ground, and it is natural to think that he wants to make the most of it he may want a paddock for a horse or a cow, or it may be something else; likewise a garden and orchard, poultry-yard, and many more small places; trees and shrubs planted, both for shelter and ornament. In planting small places, or planting on a small scale, the aim in view is to plant so as to make the place appear much larger than it really is: I shall, however, have more to say on this head at some future period. Amongst the first things that will require attention will be to lay the ground dry, or free the soil from stagnant water: this can only be done by cutting ditches and laying underground drains the after-management of the soil I shall work up into a series of articles such as may be beneficial to all concerned in that branch of industry. Fruit and forest trees, vegetables and flowers, will also have a share of my attention. Land Draining. This, on all soils where there is no natural drainage for the rain-fall, is now universally considered an essential to good cultivation. This work can be performed at any season of the year, but it is properly winter work: the ground is softer and more easy to dig—the land is wetter, and betrays more plainly the need of the operation. Rain water is required to feed the plants, for it contains oxygen, carbonic acid, ammonia, and nitric acid, so that it not only acts chemically on the ingredients in the soil which it thus prepares as food for plants, but it is itself, in respect of some of these ingredients, the food of plants. Water percolates into the soil as rain falls on its surface, as spring water rises from below, and by capillary attraction is drawn. up to the surface of the soil. The water leaves the soil by running over its surface, and if there is no outlet for it to get away, it collects in pools in the lowest parts of the ground, and leaves its work, as the feeder of plants, altogether undone, by evaporation from the surface, in which case it reduces the temperature of the land; and, by percolation through its substance, warming the soil in its passage, introducing its own ingre ON DRAINING. dients as well as the air which follows it, and feeding the plants with the substances it holds in solution or has dissolved from the soil in passing through it. Notwithstanding that on its escape, after percolating through the soil, it contains, dissolved in it, a considerable quantity of fertilising matter, but not so much as one might be led to expect. Heavy loams and Some few years ago, Professor Way made some valuable discoveries on the waste of manure carried through the soil by the rain. All light soils, such as gravelly, sandy, and volcanic, lose much of their fertilising properties through heavy and continued rain. clay soils have an affinity for it, and hold it in solution. After rain, the water discharging from the drains is clear, and has no perceptible taste or smell. The three first-mentioned soils require little or no draining, unless there are underground springs, in which case these must be tapped and carried to the first outlet. We are told that the food of plants, in a measure, is simply a manufacture; that the produce of its processes is made up of materials existing in the air and soil; that only substances soluble in water are available for this purpose; and yet the whole mass of mineral matter concerned in this manufacture not only do we find thinly spread as a soil six or eight inches thick in a layer, over an enormous surface, and then washed annually by four or five times its own bulk of rain-water, one of the most powerful natural solvents; but this manufacture is most productive where this solvent is permitted to run through the land downwards to the sea. The opinion of theorists that all fertility depends on the preservation of soluble matter in the soil agrees with that of practical men, that fertility depends very materially upon your enabling the water which falls upon the surface of the ground to pass through its whole thickness, and escape through channels in the subsoil. Rain-water, when allowed to traverse this layer from which our food is produced, improves the underground climate on which the luxuriant growth of plants materially depends it acts on its passage through the soil in carrying food to the roots of the growing plants; and not only does it bring to the soil the riches of the air, and so add to its fertility-but also, by the addition which it thus supplies and the activity which drainage gives it, and its own solvent powers, makes the whole a fit receptacle in which food for plants may be prepared for use. The superabundant water in the soil finds a ready egress by the drains, while the nourishing matter is retained in the earth for the food of plants. The drains act as a filter in the soil, so that a fertile, well-drained soil is one of the pleasantest sights on which the eye can rest. In practice, this percolation of rain-water through the soil on which it alights is obtained by digging drains from three to four feet deep and from eighteen to twenty feet apart, placing in them two-inch pipes, and having first provided an outfall for them at the lowest part of the ground. First, the lay of the ground and the nature of the subsoil must be considered, as well as the facility for getting an outlet, either by an open ditch or covered main drain, from five to six inches in diameter. The great desideratum is to get a fall of a few inches for the tributary drains before entering the main drains. Oftentimes a few drains will lay a field dry, more especially where there are underground springs; but strong clay lands require drains every twenty feet apart, with a depth of at least three feet. Tiles or pipes are far superior to anything we can find for laying in drains; wooden drains soon decay, and stone drains are liable to get choked up with the soil intermixing amongst the stones; a little scoria-ash laid on the top of the pipes is very conducive to the speedy egress of the superabundant water. Drains laid down just as I have described will last in good repair for many years. In draining undulating ground, bear in mind never to run the drains in a straight line up or down an incline but always at an angle, because if a drain is run down a hill in a straight line it will burst before it has been made twelve months. Capital sunk in the soil on a judicious system of draining will, in a few years, return the outlay. I am sorry to say that I have met with people in New Zealand who do not believe in draining. The reason they give is this: that the land will be left too dry in summer-(I suppose they do not believe in capillary attraction). The wettest land, or the land on which the water lodges in the winter, will be found the most parched or burnt up in summer: on soils of this description the crops languish and die oftentimes before they arrive at maturity. The results of laying the ground dry are, that we have greater facility and economy in cultivation; tillage is made both easier and more efficient, and likewise the climate improved as regards its influence on plants. The difference of a few degrees in the underground climate of the soil causes a most material difference in respect of vegetation for the maturing of the crops. In undrained land we have the crops starved and stinted, oftentimes not returning the seed for our labour. To sum up with the three great results of artificial land drainage, when no natural drainage exists-cheaper cultivation, better underground climate, and continuous and abundant plant feeding. These produce among them an earlier and more productive harvest, and justify the drainage of wet and moist soils as a fundamental necessity. D. HAY. CURIOUS INSTINCT OF PLANTS.-Hoare, in his treatise on the vine, gives a striking exemplification of the instinct of plants. A bone was placed in the strong but dry clay of a vine border; the vine sent out a leading or tap-root directly through the clay to the bone. In its passage through the clay the main root threw out no fibres; but when it reached the bone, it entirely covered it by degrees, with the most delicate and minute fibres, like lace, each one suckling a pore in the bone. On this luscious morsel of a marrow-bone would the vine continue to feed as long as any nutriment remained. ON COMMENTATORS. How many starvelings one rich man can nourish! THE Captain of the brigantine, as he left the tap-room, quickly retraced his steps with a rapid pace towards the pier where he had landed, and where the boat was in waiting for him. A few moments' walk soon brought him there, and jumping from the pier into the boat, as it was now high water, seated himself in the stern sheets; and the next moment the boat shot rapidly from the pier, over the dark water towards the brigantine. A few moments' sharp rowing brought her within sight, as she lay at anchor, her long and now dark hull crouching low upon the water, like a sleeping leopard before them. A moment more, and the boat lay alongside. "Well," said Marley, who was mate of the Sea Snake,' in a tone of inquiry, as the Captain appeared on deck, "Will old Redskin take care of these fellows, Captain?" he asked, in a tone of the utmost familiarity. "Yes, I made a bargain with the old devil, to keep them as long as we lay here, for five hundred dollars," answered the Captain. "W-h-e-w," whistled the mate. "That's a price, though, Captain ; but you don't intend to give him that ?" "That's the bargain. I should have offered him a thousand if five hundred would not have done, Marley." "I'd sooner take them down the harbour ten miles and sink them, with a shot tied to each, to the bottom of the bay, rather than give him that price to hide them," said the worthy mate of the 'Sea Snake,' as if in anger at the bargain of the Captain. "Curse me; but he'll make more money by this job, than I have since I've been privateering," said Marley, in a harsh, dissatisfied tone. “Well, well, Marley, you need not growl about it, the bargain's made, and what's done is done," said the Captain, in a quick and impetuous voice. "But as to the five hundred dollars, that need not worry you, I'll settle with old Redskin. I have an old account against him for any amount, and I will square it with him before I go another cruise, and have what I mean to have-revenge. Only let me get these fellows into his care and keeping-I'll fix him then; and as to the money, he won't ask for't but once. But I never hinted to you, Marley, before to-night, that Standish was anything but my friend; that I nourished hate the deadliest, and sworn revenge against him." "No, I always supposed you were friendly," said the mate. "Well, I will tell you; but step aft by the lights, I must see how the time goes on." He The two walked aft, and the Captain pulled from his fob a heavycased gold repeater, by which he saw it was about midnight. returned the watch to its fob, and lighting a cigar, was about to speak, |