346 



A CHAPTER ON HEDGES. 



bility, its perfect projection ngninst man and 

 beast, and the additional value it confers 

 upon the land which it encloses. A fence 

 of wood, or stone, as commonly made, is, at 

 the best, but a miserable and tottering af- 

 fair ; soon needing repairs, which are a con- 

 stant drain upon the purse; often liable to 

 be broken down by trespassing Philistines ; 

 and, before many years, decaying, or so far 

 falling down, as to demand a complete renew- 

 al. Now a good hedge, made of the two 

 plants we shall presently recommend, Avill 

 lasl forever ; it is an " everlasting fence," fit 

 least in any acceptation of the word known 

 to our restless and changing countrymen. 

 When once fully grown, the small trouble 

 of annual trimming costs not a whit more 

 than the average expense of repairs on a 

 woodeii fence, while its freshness and ver- 

 dure are renewed with every vernal return 

 of the " flower and the leaf." 



As a protection to the choicer products of 

 the soil, which tempt the spoiler of the 

 orchard and the garden, nothing is so effi- 

 cient as a good hedge. It is like an impreg- 

 nable fortress, neither to be scaled, broken 

 through, nor climbed over. Fowls will not 

 fly over it, because they fear to alight upon 

 its top ; and men and beasts are not likely 

 to make more than one attempt to force its 

 green walls. It shows a fair and leafy 

 shield to its antagonist, but it has thousands 

 of concealed arrows ready at the moment of 

 assault, and there are few creatures, howev- 

 er bold, who care to " come to the scratch'''' 

 twice with such a foe. Indeed a well made 

 and perfect thorn hedge is so thick that a 

 bird cannot fly through it. 



" The hedge was thick as is a castle wall, 

 So that who list without to stand or go, 

 Though he would all the day pry to and fro. 

 He could not see if there were any wight 

 Within or no." — Chaucer. 



" This is all true," we hear some impa- 



tient reader say; "hedges are beautiful, 

 excellent, good; but what an age they re- 

 quire — five, six, seven, years — to be cut 

 down — the poor things — once or twice, to 

 be kept back every year with shortening and 

 shearing, and only to reach the height of 

 one's head, with such an outlay of time and 

 trouble. Ah ! it is too tedious, I must build 

 a paling — I shall never have patience to 

 wait for a hedge !" 



Build a paling, friend ; nature does not 

 get up hasty job-work, like journeymen car- 

 penters. But at least be consistent. Fill your 

 garden with annuals. Do not sow any- 

 thing more lasting, or asking longer leases 

 of time than six weeks — beans and summer 

 sun-flowers. Breed no stock, plant no or- 

 chards, drain no meadows, and — set no 

 hedges I Leave all these to wiser men, or 

 rather be persuaded of the wisdom of doing 

 in the best way, what tillers of the earth have 

 not learned to do better after a lapse of 

 centuries I 



But there are also persons, readers of ours, 

 who must be treated with more respect. 

 They will tell us that they have more reason 

 in their objections to hedges. They admire 

 hedges — they have planted and raised 

 them. But they have not succeeded, and 

 they have great doubts of the possibility of 

 making good hedges in the United States. 

 We know all the difficulties which these 

 cultivators have experienced, for we have 

 made the same trials, and seen the same 

 obstacles ourselves. But we are confident 

 we can answer their objections in a few 

 words. 7%e Hawthorn {CratcBgus) cannot 

 be depended i(po7i as a hedge plant in this coun- 

 try. 



Hundreds of emigrants from Great Bri- 

 tain, familiar all their lives with hawthorn 

 hedges and their treatment, and deploring 

 the unsightliness of " posts and rails" in 



