JUVENILE DEPARTMENT.

The Massachusetts Lead Mines. (Extracts from the School-Compositions of a Young Lady.)

At the distance of eight or ten miles from Northampton, is a lead mine, which is highly intereresting and pleasing to the curious and scientific. The vein declines ten or fifteen degrees from a perpendicular direction, is six or eight feet in diameter, and traverses granite and other primary rocks. The vein is visible

in some places from Montgomery to Hatfield a distance of twenty miles. In Southampton, it has been explored to the depth of forty or fifty feet. The shafts were first sunk in a perpendicular direction but, on account of the quantity of water, the men were obliged to desist. They afterwards renewed their efforts at the foot of a hill, about eighty rods distant, and worked the drift in an oblique direction. The mouth of the cavity is about four or five feet in width, and three or four above the surface of the water. The depth of the water, and the size of the passage are sufficient to admit of a loaded boat.

A person before entering the mine, must fire a gun, or beat the timbers heavily, which are placed at the entrance. Very soon a slight undulation of the water will be perceived, and shortly after a boat will be seen advancing, conveying a man, who has with him a light, and oars. You are under the necessity of throwing a cloak around you, to protect yourself from the dropping water, which you will meet with, as there are many cracks in the roof, through which the water is continually falling. When you have proceeded about half the length of the mine, the opening through which you entered will appear very small, no larger than a candle; and when you arrive at the end of your expedition, it becomes invisible. The miners have not suffered in their health.

The case troubled the teacher; and, on the occasion of one of our citizens visiting the school, she privately and briefly stated the circumstances and wished him, in some remarks to the school, to advert to the principle involved in the case.

The address to the school had reference principally to the conduct of boys in the streets and at their sports. The principles of rectitude and kindness which should govern them everywhere even when alone and when they thought there was no eye to see and no one present to observe. The school seemed deeply interested in the remarks.

--

A very short time after the visitor left the school, a little boy rose from his seat and said,

"Miss LI batted the ball that broke Mr. L- -'s window. Another boy threw the ball, but 1 batted it and it struck the window. I am willing to pay for it."

There was silence in the school as the little boy was speaking, and continued for a minute after he had closed.

"But it won't be right for to pay the whole for the glass," said another boy, rising from his seat, "all of us that were playing should pay something because we were all engaged alike in the play; I'll pay my part.'

19

"And I!"" And I!"

A thrill of pleasure seemed to run through the school at this display of correct feeling. The teacher's heart was touched and she felt more than ever the responsibility of her charge.-SEL.

A WINTER AT SPITZBERGEN.-The interior of Spitzbergen has never been habitable. Last October a party set out from Archangel for this destination. It was composed of fifteen gentlemen, of sound constitutions, accustomed to cold, and excellent huntsmen. They established themselves in the small island of Barents, part of the northern group where no man yet had resided, and which was only frequented by the more valuable of the animals of the country. In a short time, however, six of them, in spite of their precautions and hardy constitutions, died from the intense cold. The remaining nine lately arrived at Archangel with much booty, but not till they had experienced the most intense suffering from various causes, the absence of daylight being one of the principal.-SEL.

POETRY.

The Boy and the Robin.

BY FRANCIS C. WOODWORTH.

So now, little Robin, you've come to my door, I wonder you never have ventur'd before: 'Tis likely you thought I would do you some harm,

But pray, sir, what cause could there be for alarm?

You seem to be timid-I'd like to know why

Did I ever hurt you? what makes you so shy?

You shrewd little rogue, I've a mind ere you go,

To tell you a thing it concerns you to know. You think I have never discovered your nest; 'Tis hid pretty snugly, it must be confessed. Ha ha! how the boughs are entwined all around!

No wonder you thought it would never be found.

You're as cunning a robin as ever I knew ; And yet, ha ha! ha! I'm as cunning as you! I know all about your nice home on the tree, 'Twas nonsense to try to conceal it from me.

I know for but yesterday I was your guest, How many young robins there are in your

nest;

And pardon me, sir, if I venture to say, They've not had a morsel of dinner to-day.

But you look very sad, pretty robin, I see, As you glance o'er the meadow, to yonder green tree;

I fear I have thoughtlessly given you pain, And I will not prattle so lightly again.

Go home, where your mate and your little ones dwell;

Tho' I know where they are, yet I never will tell;

Nobody shall injure that leaf-covered nest,
For sacred to me is the place of your rest.

Adieu! for you want to be flying away,
And it would be cruel to ask you to stay:
But come in the morning, come early, and
sing,

For dearly I love you, sweet warbler of spring. [Student and Tutor.

Farewell to City Life.

I.

A truce to care-the bustling strife,
And sleepless din of city life
With joy I leave and speed my flight
To scenes of calm, but rich delight.
What if the world account me mad?
'Mid fashion's walks I'm always sad;
Then cease to chide me, if I break
Away from cold and heartless form,
And, in a rustic cottage, take

My share of sunshine and of storm.

OUR NEW EDITION.-The bound Vols. i. and ii. of Dwight's Am. Magazine, (in muslin or half-sheep), are delivered to purchasers in Boston, Buffalo, Baltimore, Philadelphia and intermediate places, "free of freight," at the N. York price. Enclose to the Editor $5, and vols. i. and ii. will be brought to the door. 5 sets for $20. $7 will pay for vols. i. and ii., and also the current Vol. iii., in monthly pamphlets. The remaining numbers of the latter will be sent by mail, at a small postage.

For $10 will be sent vols. i., ii.. iii., and iv., (for 1848,) and any book in the market that may be ordered, not Costing more than $1.50.

DWIGHT'S AMERICAN MAGAZINE. AND FAMILY NEWSPAPER; With numerous Engravings,

Edited by Theodore Dwight,

Is published weekly, at the office of the New York Express, No. 112 Broadway, at 4 cents a number, or, to subscribers paying in advance, $2 a year. 7 sets for $10. Monthly, in covered pamphlets, at same price. Postmasters are authorized to remit money, and are requested to act as agents.

Enclose a Two Dollar Bill, without payment of postage, and the work will be sent for the year.

Vols. I. and II., half-bound, or in muslin, $2.50 each.

We here present portraits of some of the finest Merino sheep ever raised in this country. They were exhibited at the Agricultural Fair in Addison county in Vermont, in October, 1846, by their owner, who obtained prizes for them, as they were decided to be the best on the ground. They will be more particularly noticed hereafter.

The following facts and opinions relating to the rearing of sheep in the Valley of the Genesee, have just been communicated to us by a friend, who has been long engaged in this and other branches of husbandry, in that fertile and important part of our state. Some of our readers will be surprized to learn, of a new use made of the flesh of many of the sheep annually raised in that region.

Sheep are raised with great facility in the Genesee valley, and a large stock is constantly kept, the numbers of which it is impossible to estimate with confidence. Conjectures made and published differ very widely. The annual increase is about 30 per cent, and that is about the number slaughtered: as it is the general rule to prevent the enlargement of every flock. As from 50,000 to 60,000 are killed every year, it may be supposed what the whole stock amounts to.

So low, however, is the price of wool, and that of butchers' meat, that sheep cannot be made a source of direct profit; and they would not now be kept, but for the advantage they afford to the farmer in the management of his land. Beside the supply of nitrogen which they furnish while at pasture, an ingredient indispensable to the wheat crop, though in small quantities, the sheep perform the part of removing or preventing one crop of weeds, and thus save the expense of one ploughing. As each sheep accomplishes these two useful ends, to about an acre, the indirect advantages yielded by a flock, may be in part estimated.

The price of wool is generally between 20 and 40 cents a pound, in the Genesee valley, averaging perhaps 33; and the crop is annually bought up by agents, chiefly for the manufactories in the eastern part of Massachusetts. It is generally of good quality, but not superior. It may easily be improved, by reducing the quality and the quantity of food. Covering the sheep with a garment, as is sometimes practised in Europe, would doubtless still farther improve it.

The extreme cheapness with which sheep are raised, together with the advantages already mentioned, render it on the whole just worth the farmer's while to keep them. They find their own food in the warm weather, without cost, and during the winter they eat chiefly straw, which is of no other use except in the manufacture of paper, for which it is just now in uncommon demand, at $1 a ton.

The common price of sheep is 75 cts. a head; and in the autumn when they are killed, the carcass sells at from 1 1-4 to 1 1-2 cents a pound; sometimes as low as 1 cent. At other seasons the best mutton is worth 3 or 4 cents.

As the number of sheep which can be fed in that region is limited, the increase, to the number of 50 or 60,000, is annually killed; and few persons, at a distance, are aware of the uses which are made of the flesh. The hams are smoked like those of venison, and are consumed chiefly on the canal route, in the hotels and boats, frequently under the name of venison, which they often resemble very nearly, except in color, being lighter. The carcasses are put into enormous vats with water and heated by steam; and, after the tallow has been allowed to rise and taken off, the cooked flesh is given to herds of hogs, which fatten rapidly upon the fibre alone, and furnish the 'mutton hams,' so extensively eaten by laborers. on some of the great public works. The fat of these hogs, in the meantime, is used in the manufacture of lard-oil and stearine candles, supplying some of the deficiencies of the whaling-business.

But, turning from this topic, which is the least attractive in the history of the sheep, we copy the following from a recent publication.

Perhaps one of the greatest obstacles to the keeping of sheep, has been the savage destruction made among them by worthless curs kept throughout our country, for no other reason that we could ever imagine, than to gratify the fancy of their owners. If these animals were kept constantly chained up where they could do no harm, no fault would be found; but, when suffered to run at large and become public destroyers, it is quite another affair, and we hold it quite justifiable, nay, a positive duty on their parts, to shoot all dog prowlers, without any more hesitation than they would a mad wolf.

The importation of the large Spanish shepherd dog has been recommended, as he will invariably attack and kill any dog that approaches his flock: but this would be an expensive and troublesome measure, and it would take a long while to breed a sufficient number of them here, before they could become generally ef fectual. During our recent visit to Kentucky, we learned a very simple, and at the same time profitable way of guarding sheep, which is this:

Put a few active cows, with their sucking calves, in the same pasture with the flock-five would probably be enough for several hundred sheep, to which add five active three year old steers, and as many more two year olds. Take a gentle dog into the field, with a long light cord about his neck, the end held in the person's hand accompanying, to keep him in check, and then set him on to the sheep. The cows, thinking of their offspring, will immediately advance to head the dog and guard the calves, the steers will follow their example, and the sheep retreat behind them. Thus continue a few times, till the steers are well broke in, when the cows can be taken away, and they will inevitably gore any dog to death that dare persist in attacking the flock. However brave a dog may be in other matters, the moment he attacks sheep, he seems to be conscious of the ignominy of it, and as if conscience-stricken, becomes a coward.

We copy below from a letter published in one of our Agricultural papers, from one of our intelligent countrymen, travelling in Europe,

The season for sheep-shearing, in Spain, like the harvest and the vintage in corn and wine countries, is a time of great festivity and rejoicing, both to the proprietor and the workmen. A multitude of shearers, washers, and other attendants, are fed upon the flesh of the culled she p, and it would seem that the slaughter occasioned by this season of feasting would be sufficient to consume the whole flock.

The operation of shearing commences on the first of May, provided the weather be fair; for if the wool be not quite dry, the fleeces, which are closely piled upon one another as soon as they are taken off, would ferment and rot. It is for this reason that the business is performed in

large spacious buildings called "Esquileos," which are usually so arranged as to receive entire flocks of twenty, forty, and even sixty thousand sheep; and besides, the constitutions of the ewes are such, that if they were exposed, immediately after shearing, to the air of a bleak, stormy night, they would all perish.

A certain number of sheep are led into the great shelter-house, built in the form of a paralelogram, four or five hundred feet long, and one hundred wide, where they remain during the day. As many sheep as it is judged can be despatched by the shearmen the next day, are driven into a long, narrow passage, called "Sudadero," or sweating-place, where they remain all right, crowded as closely as possible together, in order that they may profusely sweat, which is to soften the wool for the shears, and, as the shepherds say, "to oil their edges." By degrees, the next morning, the sheep are led into the spacious shearing-room, which joins the sweating-place. As fast as they are sheared, the shepherd carries them off to be marked with tar, which usually consists of the first letter of the name of the proprietor, and each subdivision is denoted by the part of the sheep on which this letter is placed; and, as this operation is necessarily performed upon one at a time, it gives a fair opportunity to cull out for the butchery all the sheep of the flock which have lost their teeth.

A man can shear twelve ewes in a day, or eight rams. The fleeces of three of the latter often weigh, in the dirt or yolk, twenty-five pounds, which is equivalent to those of four wethers, or five ewes. The reason of the difference in the number of sheep sheared in a day is, not only because the rams have larger bodies, are stronger, and have more wool, but the shearmen dare not tie their feet as they do those of the unresisting ewes. Experience has taught them, that a bold, rebellious ram would struggle even to suffocation thus confined under the shears; consequently, they gently lay him down, stroke him, and actually beguile him out of his fleece.

The sheep that have been shorn are allowed to go to the fields, if the weather be fine, in order to feed during the day, and in the evening they return to the yard in front of the shearing-house, to pass the night, and if the weather be cold or cloudy they are sheltered within.