THE TIM BUNKER PAPERS. :2G9 



that are stanuin, and plant trees where there aint none ; 

 put the surface sile down to the bottom, and bring up the 

 yaller dirt for the sake of making it black, and raise Hob 

 generally with the land before they plant it. Here is 

 Squire Oaks, jest above me, that has been rippin and tear- 

 in with his land for a dozen years and more, and I guess 

 every acre he s got has cost him tew hundred dollars, if 

 not more, and I can beat him on pickles, with all his ma 

 nure and subsoiling.&quot; 



&quot; Well, now, spose we hitch up and go over and see 

 Squire Oaks place this morning. I want to learn some 

 thing to carry back to Hookertown.&quot; 



&quot;What do you say, Esther?&quot; inquired Uncle Di, look 

 ing up to headquarters. 



&quot;I think,&quot; says Mrs. Tubbs, &quot;that Sally would like to 

 see one of our country seats. Mr. Oaks has a fine conser 

 vatory, and the flowers are very attractive this winter.&quot; 

 So it was arranged that we should visit the country seat 

 of Titus Oaks, Esq., in full force. 



I expected to find a man, city bred, with gloves on, and 

 stove-pipe hat, and gold-headed cane, ordering men round, 

 right and left. Instead of that, I found a man that might 

 have been taken for a native of Hookertown, any where 

 on Connecticut soil, and driving away at the dirt and 

 stone, as if he wa n t afraid of them. 



&quot; Good morning,&quot; said I, &quot; Squire Oaks. I am glad to 

 find a Justice of the Peace in these parts. I have thought 

 that such an officer must have a good deal to do in this 

 region.&quot; 



&quot; You were never more mistaken in your life,&quot; he re 

 plied. &quot; They call me Squire, but I have no more claim 

 to the title than my Alderney bull. The office must have 

 been abolished some time ago around here. Every man 

 does about what is right in his own eyes.&quot; 



&quot; Excuse me, sir, I do not like to hear a man speak evil 

 of his birth-place.&quot; 



