Dialogue, John and the Old Gentleman; er, the "old way" not always the best.

Some farmers, even in these days of improvement and widely disseminated agricultural knowledge, are quite willing to abandon their practice, to their own preconceived tastes and prejudices, not having the patience requisite to make a serious investigation into the natural laws that govern their business. Such men never examine, or but rarely look into those great scientific principles which, if practically applied, would cause two blades of grass to grow where but one did before. As to the use of guano, and the many new and valuable fertilizing agents, they never think of using them. "Nonsense," says such a one; "book farming; all fudge; give me the old way; that is good enough for me. My father always farmed in such manner, and I am not wiser than my father".

We once heard one of these farmers, who was wise in his own conceit, ask his son: "John, what has eaten all the leaves off the Gooseberry bushes in the garden?" "The caterpillars, sir." "The caterpillars! kill them, then." "Yes, sir." The old gentleman went out into the field to his work; John took the old chaise, and drove off to town for a box of whale oil soap. He shortly returned with his antidote, and after mixing it with water in proper proportion, set about its application with a skillful hand. While he was thus engaged with a good sized garden syringe, administering in wholesome quantity this fertilizing, worm-destroying fluid, the old gentleman entered the garden. His first words were, after looking at John with perfect astonishment for a moment or two : "What are you doing thar, with that are tarnal old squirt gun?" "Killing the worms, father." "Killing the worms! Put that thing up, and get away with your book farming." "But, father," replied John, "the worms and caterpillars will eat -" "Let 'em eat; but I won't have any book farming on my premises, eat or no eat" The old gentleman went to his dinner, and thought no more about the Gooseberry bushes, the caterpillars, or the squirt gun, and John, for several days, reigned lord of the garden, and daily showered his favorite gooseberry bushes with the new fertilizer of which he had read, and which he had seen his neighbor use with good success.

One Monday, a few days after, the farmer thought he would take a look at the garden and the gooseberry bushes. On entering the garden he found John hard at work with the "old squirt gun," and beholding at a glance the good effect of John's scientific application, he was at once convinced that there was " something in the thing, after all." So much interested was he in the new fertilizer, so de- lighted with the beautiful greenness of the gooseberry bushes, that he could scarcely contain himself. Seizing at once the syringe from John's hand, he commenced a vigorous application of the fluid to the bushes. John looked at him for a moment with a peculiar expression of countenance, and then quietly remarked, "Father, that is the old squirt gun; what do you think of it?" "Think of it?" said he. "I'm an old fool, that's all. Squirt away as much as you like. Go and buy you the best garden syringe you can get, and use it. You and I must look into this book farming a little more. 1 am sure there is something in it".

Thus by the observation of a single fact, one of the most strenuous opposers of "book farming," or theoretical knowledge, became convinced that in these latter days, there was a possibility of a man's being even wiser than his father.

Still we find many men content to pled along the same old road their fathers trod, manfully buffeting, I admit, all the toils of the journey, without the will to make a single experiment, whereby they might improve the old beaten track or make it better. Such may, and do, by a persevering, laborious industry, succeed in raising a crop, of gaining a livelihood; but they will never know from experience the true dignity and independence arising from a thorough scientific knowledge of their calling.