If Apples could have been daily supplied to our poorer citizens in such quantities as they could conveniently take, at from fifty to seventy-five cents per bushel, according to quality and comeliness, I am confident that this City and its suburbs would have taken Two or Three Millions of bushels more than they have done; and the same is true of other cities. But the poor rarely buy a barrel of Apples at once; and they have been required to pay as much for half a peck as I could get for a bushel just like them. In other words: the hucksters and middlemen set so high a price on their respective services in dividing up a barrel of Apples and conveying them from the rural producer to the urban consumer that a large portion of the farmer's apples must rot on his hands or be sold by him for less than the cost of harvesting, while the poor of the cities find them too dear to be freely eaten. Nor are Apples singular in this respect. I would like to grow a thousand bushels of English (round) and French or Swede Turnips per annum if I could be sure of getting $1 per barrel for them delivered at the railroad. If the poor of this City could buy such Turnips throughout their season by the half peck at the rate of $2 per barrel, I believe they would buy and eat many more than they do. But they are usually asked twenty-five cents per half peck, which is at the rate of $5 per barrel; and at this rate they hold them too dear for every-day use. So the Turnips are not grown, or the cattle are invited to clear them off before they rot and become worthless and nuisance. Quite often, a green youth undertakes to get rich by farming near some great city. He has heard and believes that Cabbages bring from $5 to $8 and even $10 per hundred, Squashes from $10 to $25 per hundred, Watermelons from $20 to $50, and so on. He has made his calculations on this basis, and sanguinely expects to make money rapidly. But his products, in the first place, fall short of his estimates; they are not ready for market so soon as he expected they would be; and, when at length they are ready, every one else seems to have rushed in ahead of him. The market is glutted; no one seems to want his "truck" at any figure; he sells it for a song, and quits farming disgusted and bankrupt. May be, his stuff would have sold much better next week or the week after; but he could not afford to bring it to market and take it back day after day, on the chance that the demand for it would improve by-and-by. I judge that more young men have on this account turned their backs on farming, after a brief trial, than on any other. They might have borne up against the shortness of their crops, hoping for better luck next time; but the necessity for selling them for a price that would not have reimbursed their cost, had they been ever so luxuriant, utterly disheartens and alienates them.