CERES.-HARVEST-HOME.

127

immediate wants and necessities, men were in the ha❤ bit of intreating, or of celebrating in hymns of praise and thanksgiving for blessings received, or desires fulfilled. The deity presiding over the fruits of the earth most necessary for the sustenance of man, as corn, they represented under the form of a very beautiful woman, bearing in her hand a wheat-sheaf and a sickle, and they called her CERES. She was distinctly styled the goddess of harvest: and when the husbandman cast his seed into the earth, he would implore her assistance in bringing it to perfection: and when this was accomplished, he celebrated her goodness in thanksgiving and acts of joy, accompanied with dancing, and the crowning of her statue with flowers.

"You are aware that our island was formerly conquered by the Romans; those people, therefore, introduced many of their customs among our ancestors; and this ceremony of feasting and dancing at a harvesthome, together with the crowning of the last sheaves with flowers, is derived from them; and in some parts of England it has not wholly passed away, although the religion to which it gave rise never prevailed here, and has yielded to one which, in its pure state, is calculated to make men both wiser, and more like the benevolent Creator of all things, and therefore more happy.

"If these rejoicings and feastings have nearly passed away," said Mr. Stock; "if the one has been thought foolish, and the other has been discontinued from too great a love of gain, I do not find that people are wiser than they were in those simple times; I am sure they are not richer, for they have more wants; and they are certainly not happier, for overlabor and anxiety after riches do not produce peace of mind. I am sorry

for my countrymen, who seek happiness from aiming to be like their superiors in station, rather than in moderation and content; and I am more sorry for thepoor laboring husbandmen, who are ground down in their wages, and no longer are suffered to rejoice in such merry-makings, on account of the pride and avarice of their rich employers. Old England is no longer the merry country it used to be to the working classes. There is more learning and less happiness among us; which should not, and I hope, ere long, will not be the case. However, master Oldfield, whom we shall visit to-day, is one of the few farmers who keep up the customs of their ancestors. He gives his men a good supper of beef and beer at harvest-home; he allows them moderate wages, yet better than many of his neighbors do; and the consequence is, that he is not only better served than they, but in the midst of all the burnings of ricks, and other violent outrages that have taken place in the county, his property has been spared.”

.

After passing the afternoon in the wheat-field, the children amusing themselves with catching and examining the most curious butterflies and other insects that came under their notice, the whole party, harvestmen and all, when the last load of corn had been ricked, sat down to a famous old-English supper of beef, pudding, and home-brewed ale, that had been prepared for them in the barn.

After their homely but substantial meal, the men all had one mug of ale each, and a pipe of tobacco, and the whole party went singing home to bed, where they slept as many rich men do not; that is, all through the night. Mr. Stock and his family, on their return, were just able to notice two fern-owls flying round and round an old oak, uttering their loud and disagreeable

FLOWERS OF AUGUST.

129

scream. The children wanted to know what they were doing there, and were informed that they were in search of their food, which consists of moths and cock-chaffers. They also heard the merry chattering of that little bird, the nut-hatch.

At breakfast the next morning Adam, unbidden, gave his father the following list of flowers that had come into bloom during the month: "Dear papa, among the shrubs that blossom in August, are, several kinds of roses, one of them the Chinese rose; though I think that seems to be almost always blowing; for I remember seeing a tree against a house, that was covered with flowers when the frost was on the ground. Then there is the althea-frutex, the shrubby cinquefoil, and that beautiful thing the passion-flower. Among the evergreens, there is the ever-blowing rose; that very grand flower and plant, the magnolia. And among the plants are, American groundsel; marvel of Peru; the beautiful cardinal-flower; a great many kinds of my favorite pinks and carnations; the sweet and yellow sultan; lady's-traces; and the beautiful blue campanulas. Among the bulbous roots, there is the meadow-saffron, which flowers before the leaves come up; the belladonna lily; and the Guernsey lily. In the fields are, the enchanter's nightshade, which is, I think, reddish and blue; several speedwells, all blue; but some very dark, and some pale. The red valerian, which is rose-colored. A great many sorts of rushes, but I like the bulrush the best. And a great many grasses too, and the shapes and colors of some are pretty. The scabious, a dark and light purple. The pleasant-smelling bed-straw, which is like a hay-field when it is dried. Wild madder, not very pretty; and plantains, not pretty too. Scorpion-grasses, bright

130

FLOWERS OF AUGUST.

blue. Scarlet pimpernel, that has a violet-colored mouth; and the bog pimpernel, which is rose-colored. Seven or eight sorts of the bell-flower; all blue, or blue and white, and some of them rather large and handsome. Touch-me-not, yellow. Three sorts of violet; the dog's, heart's-ease, and yellow-mountain. Mulleins; one sort is tall and handsome, and of a bright yellow. The centaury, which is bright pink. The common woodbine, or honey-suckle; every body knows the color of that. Gentians, a deep blue, a bright blue, and purplish. Sea-eringo, bright blue; and field-eringo, which is white and purplish. The common shepherd's needle, white. Four or five sorts of the water-parsnip; they too are white and greenish. Water-hemlock, white again. Slender hare's-ear, yellowish. Common thrift, rose-colored. Matted thrift, of a purplish blue. The great broad-leaved docks; the leaves are finer than the flowers, which are not handsome. Water-plantains, white with yellow spots, and light purple. The common evening primrose, which is light yellow. Willow-herb, crimson. Heaths, rose and white, red and white. Persicaria, crimson; a very pretty flower. Saxifrage, bright yellow; and campions, which are white, rose, and yellow. Chickweeds, a very little white flower. Blackberry. Strawberry. The bright yellow creeping cinquefoil. Pheasant's eye, a very handsome little flower, crimson with black spots. The golden crowfoots. Several sorts of mint, dark purple and reddish. Marjoram, light purple; and the sweet-smelling wild thyme. Common eye-bright; mamma's favorite again. Snap-dragons blue, white, rose-colored, and yellow. Purple sea-rocket. Stork's-bill and crane's-bill, rose-colored, purple, and reddish purple. Mallows, pale rose; the boys at

FLOWERS OF AUGUST.

131

school called them cheeses, and we used to eat them. Common furmitory, rose-colored, and dark red. The everlasting-pea. Tares, pale blue, and purple and white. Trefoils. Dutch clover and common clover; all these my friends, the bees, are very fond of; and if you pull out the little pipy blossoms and suck the ends, you may taste the honey. The St. John's-worts, which were in flower last month, are not yet out. The blossom, which is as shining as gold, and the leaves, that are of a bright and glossy green, are very handsome. There are nine or ten sorts of hawk-weed, and all of a yellow color. The common burdock, which is purple, and many kinds of thistle, which make the humble-bees tipsy. Goldy-locks and the common tansy, which are both a bright yellow. Sea-starwort, blue and yellow. The common golden-rod and the daisy. The ox-eye, yellow; and the corn bluebottle, the shape of which is like a wreath round mamma's head. Sweet lady's-traces, whitish; and the red-berried bryony, also white."

"Well, Adam," said his father, "this is, indeed, a long list, but I cannot think that you made it all out without any assistance." "No, papa," said he, smiling, "I looked into the 'Domestic Gardener's Manual' the other day, and saw them there; so I copied them out; but I only took the names of those which I knew and liked."*

To the adult reader of this little work, if he or she have a taste for studying the practical or scientific department of horticulture, the author would strongly recommend the above-named Manual as a vade mecum. The writer of the work is not a mere gardener, hackneyed in the beaten paths of the art, (although he is essentially so, too,) but he is a patient natural philosopher, and an admirable chemist; and he has, upon every possible occasion, brought the sublime speculations resulting from the study of those ennobling sciences to bear upon the improvement of his favorite occupation-that of horticulture.