s bustle
and strain and rest in peace at home.

In brotherly love, yours truly,

ABNER.

HOW SHALL WE CALL THE BIRDS?

Birds are the most effective aids to the farmer and the florist in
checking the increase of noxious insects that destroy the fruits of labor.
A single pair will destroy hundreds of worms, grubs, moths or beetles in a
single day; and when they are present in sufficient numbers no insect or
creeping thing escapes their sharp little eyes or their exceeding
quickness of motion. As they multiply rapidly, there is no reason why
every one of our fruit trees, every shrub and vine, should not have its
nest of birdlings. This would be the solution of the dreadful curculio
question, I believe. Heretofore, we have built fences around our orchards
and enclosed fowls in them. This at one time was supposed to be very
effective, but a hundred chickens to the square rod are not so effective
as a pair of birds nesting in each tree, from the simple fact that the
former can only catch the insects that drop to the ground. After we have
shaken the curculio beetles off, to be sure the chickens will devour them
readily, but then the pest has generally done its work. It is not unusual
to have every plum, apricot, nectarine or apple on a tree stung in a
single day; and in South Jersey the curculio has proved victorious in the
struggle with man. Every year we see these trees white with blossoms, and
as regularly every specimen of the fruit bearing the plague-spot--a tiny
crescent-shaped wound in the cuticle--withering, fading and falling. We
painfully gather up this fallen fruit by the bushel, burn it to destroy
the grub of the curculio, and, hoping against hope, witness the same
disaster the following year.

Now, we can have these much-desired friends, the birds, by the thousand
about our farms and gardens and orchards. There are many ways of
attracting them and ensuring their return to us every year, but the first
step involves a sacrifice: we must destroy, shut up or banish every cat
from the premises. Some will find this hard to do. Puss is a very old
favorite. Long before the Pharaohs she was petted, and even held sacred.
The Egyptian goddess Pacht had the head of a cat. The origin of the
veneration of the cat was, it is said, her mice-destroying power. In a
famine-visited country like Egypt the preservation of the crops of grain
was of prime importance; and the cat--allowed from its sacred character to
inc