66 CHRONICLES OF A CLAY FARM. 



began to find were trodden by bipeds and quadru- 

 peds with about equal perception of their plan and 

 bearing. Who would be without an accurate Map 

 of his Farm, who once knew the cumulative tri- 

 umphs that it brings of skill and head craft, as 

 lavishly accorded in the end, as denied in the 

 outset, by the gregarious juries who sit in judg- 

 ment on his acts? 



Down went fence after fence! each with precisely 

 the same prologue and epilogue of blame and 

 praise : for all the successful issues in the world 

 never stop or stay that rampant, "inconvertible" 

 thing, criticism ; that battery of inextinguishable 

 pop-guns that is never silenced or taken by assault. 

 Down however went the fences notwithstanding : 

 and certainly, without reference to any of the more 

 subterraneous improvements, of drainage, cultiva- 

 tion or otherwise, the mere accession of business- 

 like appearance to the farm when denuded of its 

 miles of jungle, was what Dame Quickly would 

 call "a thing to thank God upon." 



it would be a difficult but an interesting task 

 to make out a calculation of the economy per 

 acre, of the riddance of these hideous and useless 

 strongholds of roots, weeds, birds, and vermin that 

 afflict the farms of merry England. Unproductive 



