equisition. The "water
furrows" between the cotton-rows are deepened, leaving the cotton
growing as it were upon a slight ridge; this accomplished, the crop is
prepared for the "rainy season," should it ensue, and so far advanced
that it is, under any circumstances, beyond the control of art. Nature
must now have its sway.

The "cotton bloom," under the matured sun of July, begins to make
its appearance. The announcement of the "first blossom" of the
neighborhood is a matter of general interest; it is the unfailing sign
of the approach of the busy season of fall; it is the evidence that
soon the labor of man will, under a kind Providence, receive its
reward.

It should perhaps here be remarked, that the color of cotton in its
perfection is precisely that of the blossom--a beautiful light,
but warm cream-color. In buying cotton cloth, the "bleached" and
"unbleached" are perceptibly different qualities to the most casual
observer; but the dark hues and harsh look of the "unbleached
domestic" comes from the handling of the artisan and the soot of
machinery. If cotton, pure as it looks in the field, could be wrought
into fabrics, they would have a brilliancy and beauty never yet
accorded to any other material in its natural or artificial state.
There cannot be a doubt but that, in the robes of the ancient royal
Mexicans and Peruvians, this brilliant and natural gloss of cotton was
preserved, and hence the surpassing value it possessed in the eyes of
cavaliers accustomed to the fabrics of the splendid court of Ferdinand
and Isabella.

The cotton-blossom is exceedingly delicate in its organization. It is,
if in perfection, as we have stated, of a beautiful cream-color.
It unfolds in the night, remains in its glory through the morn--at
meridian it has begun to decay. The day following its birth it has
changed to a deep red, and ere the sun goes down, its petals have
fallen to the earth, leaving inclosed in the capacious calyx a
scarcely perceptible germ. This germ, in its incipient and early
stages, is called "a form;" in its more perfected state, "a boll."

The cotton-plant, like the orange, has often on one stalk every
possible growth; and often, on the same limb, may sometimes be seen
the first-opened blossom, and the bolls, from their first development
as "forms," through every size, until they have burst open and
scattered their rich contents to the ripening winds.

The appearance of a well-cultivated cotton-field,