BERKSHIRE SOCIETY. 259 



the most awkward blunders would be constantly occurring. 

 The inhabitants of our cities, for instance, who frequently visit 

 the country during the fine season, would find themselves quite 

 at a loss, if an overstrained politeness should place them in this 

 position. Imagine a trader, or a professional man, from the 

 capital of the State, unexpectedly called upon to act in rural 

 matters. Ploughshares are, to him, shares that pay no divi- 

 dends. A coulter, he supposes, has something to do with 

 horses. His notions of stock were obtained in Faneuil Hall 

 market, where the cattle look funnily enough, compared with 

 the living originals. He knows, it is true, that there is a dif- 

 ference in cattle, and would tell you that he prefers the sirloin 

 breed to all others. His children are equally unenlightened, 

 They know no more of the poultry-yard, than what they have 

 learned by having the chicken pox, and playing on a Turkey 

 carpet. Their small amount of knowledge of wool-growing, is 

 Iam(b)entable enough. 



The history of one of these summer visitors, shows that his 

 rural education must be very imperfect. He no sooner estab- 

 lishes himself, than he commences a series of experiments. He 

 tries to drain a marsh, but only succeeds in draining his own 

 pockets. He offers to pay for having a compost heap carted 

 off, but is informed that it consists of corn and potatoes, in an 

 unfinished state. He sows abundantly, but reaps little or noth- 

 ing, except with the implements he uses in shaving, — a process 

 which is frequently performed for him by other people, though 

 he pays no barber's bill. He builds a wire fence, and paints it 

 green, so that nobody can see it. But he forgets to order a 

 pair of spectacles apiece for his cows, who, taking offence at 

 something else, take his fence in addition, and make an invisi- 

 ble one of it, sure enough, in no time. And finally, having 

 bought a machine to chop fodder, which chops off a good slice 

 of his dividends, and two or three children's fingers, he con- 

 cludes, that instead of cutting feed, he will cut farming, and so 

 sells out to one of those plain, practical farmers, whose pockets 

 are not so full when he starts, but have fewer holes, and not so 

 many fingers in them. 



It must have been one of these practical men, whose love of 



