1 40 A FARMERS YEAR 



for the last century or more. Thereupon one of the men remarks 

 to his mate that ' she wants a chip or two off the hinder side,' 

 and then comes another five minutes of quiet and scientific chop- 

 ping, followed by a return to the end of the rope. At about 

 the third tug the observer will notice the topmost twigs of the 

 timber bend themselves with a sudden curve, not unlike that of the 

 top joint of a rod when a trout first takes the fly. At the next 

 pull the curve is more sudden, and deeper. Now the great tree 

 begins to groan and rock, and its boughs, rushing to and fro, to flog 

 the air in wide sweeps, but still with a desperate tenacity the thin 

 neck of wood and the remaining rope of root keep it from falling. 



1 She's a-coming/ says the head woodman ; ' now, togither, lad, 

 togither.' Two more pulls and the doomed tree swings so far 

 that it cannot recover its upright position. For a moment it hangs 

 trembling, as though making obeisance to its murderers ; then 

 a swift rush, a sound of wood rending and of tough roots flying apart 

 with a noise like that of pistol shots, and down it tumbles to 

 the earth with a thunderous rattling crash that echoes through the 

 wood and dies far away upon the breast of the quiet river. 



It is done, and a change has come over the landscape ; the 

 space that for generations has been filled with leafy branches is 

 now white and empty air. I know of no more melancholy sight 

 indeed, to this day I detest seeing a tree felled ; it always reminds 

 me of the sudden and violent death of a man. I fancy it must be 

 the age of timbers that inspires us with this respect and sympathy, 

 which we do not feel for a sapling or a flower. 



While I was on the hills this morning an oak was felled that 

 from its girth and general appearance I should say had been 

 growing for at least a century. The curious thing about this tree 

 was that when we were cutting it down we discovered that in the 

 beginning it had sprung from the stump of another oak which 

 stood there before it, and had in its day been felled by long-dead 

 woodmen. Unskilful or careless hands they were also, for, as 

 that portion of the stub which was incorporated and overgrown 

 by the bole of the present tree showed, they had not ' rooted ' 



