RUSTIC FANCIES, AND THEIR REALIZATION ! 



RUSTIC FANCIES, AND THEIR REALIZATION! 



BY A WORKING CARPENTER OF NEW YORK. 



Mr. Editor : I am going to write a letter to the Horticulturist. You must 

 know I am a carpenter, bred in the city, with uncles and aunts living in the 

 country, whom I visit occasionally. Now, it is a maxim or sentiment among city 

 folks, that your countryman is the true man, or has the happiest and easiest life ; 

 and the farmer thinks no one has such hard work as himself. So we go. City 

 mechanics think they have it hard enough. But then, I've a taste for gardening, 

 architecture, town and country, and life in the country. The height of my am- 

 bition would be: a business in town through the day, and a place to sleep in the 

 country of nights and Sundays ; for 'tis so uncomfortable to be always in other 

 people's houses. 



'Tis now some three years since I took the first step to enlighten myself on ray 

 new taste. In common with city people, I shared the general opinion about life 

 in the country, but did nothing by way of experiment. At this time, I was car- 

 pentering on my own account. Some circumstances transpired which induced me 

 to close my shop. "I will seek employment in the country," said I. In the maple 

 lined streets of Poughkeepsie, I soon found myself. Never had I seen so many 

 trees in a town. I lived here nearly a week before I learned that I was in the 

 heart of the village, so shady was it. I soon had an opportunity of more country 

 and less town. On the third day of my engagement, my employer stated to me 

 he should like me to go some mile or two, to construct a grapery, ice-house, car- 

 riage-house, and so on. "How would I like that?" "I would be delighted." 

 Thus was I initiated into studying the green fields and country-seats. But my 

 walk of nights and mornings was so long, as to make it tiresome. I declare, when 

 night came, I could scarcely put one foot before the other. Why couldn't I have 

 a country-seat as well as Mr. Macy. I determined to have one, and I have. To 

 be sure, it is not as large as Mr. Macy's, but what then ? Ain't I a philosopher, 

 and can't one exhibit as much taste, and find enough to do on three acres as twenty, 

 or even fifty ? I trow yes. 



Those evenings I spent in Poughkeepsie were among the most pleasant of my 

 life. If the evening meal was not ready, my Horticulturist was in my hands, so 

 that no time might be lost ; for you must know, I took the pains to subscribe to 

 some spirited book on my new fancy, and selected the Horticulturist. I do not 

 remember ever to have read anything that gave me so much pleasure. This was 

 in the month of June, and I had them from January. Then I got Downing's 

 Rural Essays (his Country Houses I had), and then his Landscape Gardening, and 

 then I became a visitor at Saxton's, and then I turned landscape gardener in 

 theory, and practice, too, as you shall hear. You should have seen me discours- 

 ing with the villagers on their want of taste, the best shade trees, and why didn't 

 they till the ground more thoroughly, and less of it, and why didn't they plant 

 more evergreens. ' 



Well, my dear Horticulturist, I bought three acres of ground ! What do you 

 think of that ? A carpenter turning countryman ! Truly, no, not at once ; but 

 norv I am in Downing's parish ; for see, it is but just this way; I have my Horti- 

 culturist for this year, the times being generally so hard about January, and money 

 scarce, I never can renew till midsummer ; but then, when I do, unalloyed pleasure 

 attends me for a fortnight, or, at least, till I have perused them thoroughly 

 us I became a member of Downing's parish ; that is, I am improvin 



