vol.. XX. MO. to. 



A N D H II T I C U L T U it A (. K E G I S T E R . 



155 



eciinmienili'il tn send ti> the lair of , nnd tolil 



rhat 1 iiiislil 10 five for half a score ot' ewoa. Ilo- 



orc i!)o lair Hay, however, aa I win wnlkin|r aloiip 



lie romi, nenr iiiv fiar''^" ff**'?. ' ""'I " lar:,'" tlork 



if alicp, nnd soino drovers. I fouml lliey wrro 



foiii? to llie lair. Here, tlioiiplil I, la an opportn- 



lilv n • l" bo lost — no trouble of sending to lair — 



lod a . .uml'est Nnvin^ in having llieiii dnven liniiie : 



found too, ihe price was iiiucli under what 1 was 



aid tc <rive, so I tliought iiiyseH' pcrlectly safe : 



heep 'vore eheep. .ind the sheep I bought — and 



ritliout the aid of my man. When he cnnie up. 



iS he wa» sent lor to put the sheep in the field,) I 



id, >Mili an air of some importance, never hiiviiii; 



n till' iiiusier of so many aniinala before, " Here. 



iciiard, I have bought lo-ni-Jtht lliese sheep." 



Which, sir," said he, "ewes or wclliers ?' I nm 



lined to confess, Kusebius, that I did not know ! 



as provokinp — I looked like a fool. The man 



hid bought of, relieved me by poiiilinjr out my 



rchnse, and Richard was lor a lime loo busy to 



)tice ni . '• These are pretty light-fools," said 



then, with Ins arch look; "where shall I take 



m, sir?" "Why," said 1, "you know very well 



-U) I III- field." " Oh, ay," quoth he : " but may 



th'V won't like the lield." I could not in the 



t tell what he meant, never having heard of 



nsiilting their liking. " Well," said he, "I will 



»e them tiiere, but if they don't like it lliey won't 



"What do you mean ?" said I. "Why, 



em sheep be all greyhounds." Shortly after, I 



neighbor, and told him what a purchase I 



id made. ".And where are they.'" replied he. 



the lield above tlie house," said I. " No, they 



not," Jays he ; " for I have just seen about that 



mber break over lied^'es, and away with 'em, as 



t as they rould scamper. If ihose^ are yours 



had better send alter them, and — [going off] — 



» youVe caiigA/ 'em, sell 'em." This was. in- 



d, a bad beginning. I went for my man : he 



ked this time in my face, as I told my story, and 



d him to go after them. "Oh! there's not iiiiich 



I in ''oing after tnem," said he, " at least not 



:hout a dog:" and away ho went on the run. I, 



i a fool, I am ashamed to confess it, little dream- 



r ho was gone to borrow a sheep dog, let loo.se 



large Nowfeundland, and away I went along 



1 road, as fast as my legs could carry me. About 



ile on, F found the sheep ; that is, I came in 



rtlt of tlirm, and pointed them out to the dog. 



went Neptune, nnd off went the sheep : I saw 



plunge into thenmistof them ; he had broughl 



irn one, and the rest went farther than ever. He 



indeed brought down one, and by the time I 



ne lip, had made a pood hole in his side. The 



thing was killed sure enough. Now I did'nt 



Ihc loss of the sheep, but was in dismay at 



Bbard's up. look, which I knew awaited me. I 



t it. and was humbled. " Your honor," said he, 



ad hniter keep a hunter, and a pack of iMUiids, 



them deer's capital sport, and I see your hon- 



i in at Ihe death." After much time, trouble, 



1 cost, the sheep were recovered, and, us my 



nd advised, sold — at a loss. It was amusing 



■ngti to Richard, the day of the disaster. I re- 



ned in no very good humor, and finding two 



ge pigs in m.' garden, made a boy, whom I had 



t hire. I, drive t.iein instantly to the pound ; and 



the evcni ./ in came Richard, witii one of his 



k*, nnd a.-; • .1 for money to get the pigs out of 



pound. •• Out of the pound 1" said I, " I get 



m out of the pound ! why, I've had 'em put in." 



'hen your hanur," quuth Richard, " will be sure 



to get 'oni out." "Not I," said I, indignnnlly ; 

 " let those gi't 'cm out that own thciu." Tne fol- 

 low gave a double screw, and slightly curl»d his 

 ihin lips, nnd, affecting great f<iibmi«Bion, roiilied, 

 in a low nnd slow voice, " Thnn i$ i/onr hnnar's 

 men }iiics .'" This look me by »"rpri«i<, flfocluiilly 

 diHsipalcd my bile, I threw niysolf back in my chair 

 and laughed most heartily. Kichnrd put his hand 

 to hi*; mouth, mode antics with Ins knees to sup- 

 press his iiiirlh ; but it would not <lo. lie gave 

 way to his humor, laughed loutler than I, nnd then 

 as siiddcnly slopped — asked my pardon, adding — 

 " Sure your honor knows besl ; but I think we'd 

 belter get 'em out this time, nnd punish thtm (with 

 a marked eiii[ili«si8) next." 



My second purchase was still more unfortiinnte. 

 This time 1 did not trust to my own judgment, but 

 requested a neighbor farmer who was going to a 

 fair, to buy me six sheep. "Six sheep I" said 

 Richard, who was present, looking up, now at me 



and now at farmer \, ; "six ewes in lamb this 



time." He looked again at me, as much as to say 



I doubt yet if measler knows one from t'other." 

 The six ewes were bought — twcntyfive shillings 

 apiece. I had heard that a good slieplierd knows 

 every sheep in his large flock. I had the curiosity 

 to study the physiognomy of mine ; in vain, I never 

 could tell one from the other, and judging from the 

 iiitepscness of my observation, I much doubt the 

 fact. Well, I now had sLx ewes in lamb. These 

 will produce me at least a lamb each, that will be 

 twelve; twelve sheep ; twice twelve, twcntyfoiir ; 

 and so I went on counting, till (upon my fingers) 

 I was master of a tolerable flock. In the morning, 

 before breakfast, if any mot inc and asked where 1 

 had been, the answer was, "To look at my sheep" 

 — after breakfast, " to look at my sheep" — before 

 dinner, " to look at my sheep" — after dinner, the 

 same. I was looking at my sheep all day and 

 wool gathering in dreams all night. I did Richard 

 the justice to tell him, one day, that lie was ns 

 watchful of my six sheep as I was. Ho gave one 

 of his looks, and said, suddenly dropping his speech 

 into great gravity, "They must be looked arter, for 

 I question if 't would n't be best to send 'em to Ihe 

 butcher!" Send my six ewes in lamb to a butch- 

 er! Why send them to a butcher? thought I. 

 Not long after, seeing Richard, I said, for some- 

 thing to say, "Well, Richard, have you seen my 

 six sheep this morning ?" "No, sir," quoth Rich- 

 ard, and then screwing up some, and unscrewing 

 others of his features, " I have seen five, for t'oth- 

 er 's mullon, and mutton your honor wont like to 

 eat." One of my sheep was dead. The week fol- 

 lowing, anoihor. I had now but four sheep out of 

 six. " Bad work, Richard," said I, " four out of 

 six." •* Four sheep and two skins, your honor will 

 please to count them," quoth the scrutinizing Rich- 

 ard. To make the best of it, and be beforehand 

 with my joke to my friend Richard I said to him, 

 "Well, we have four sheep and two treasures of 

 skins." " No, your honor, excuse mc, you 're 

 wrong there ; four sheep only — the skins were sto- 

 len last night." There was no standing this: it 

 was so. The day after came the saddest news of 

 all: Richard called mc from my bed. " I hem as 

 took the skins." said he, " have come for the sheep 



— Mfi/'re /foil'-." "Gone!" said I, "where?" 

 " Most likely," replied he, "to Fair." "The 



lair! that's twelve miles off, Richard." "Yes, 

 sir, and them as took 'em must have took 'cm in a 



light cart, for two of 'em never could have gone 



there a.fout, and be sure they're at the fair at 1. 



by this lime." 'J'lius of my »ix ewes in Innib, I 

 had iH.I rviMi n Hkiii. I iliought it right to send af- 

 ter them, nnd accordingly Richard went, nnd rc- 

 tiirnod the niglil foUowiug with my Ui»r ahccp. 

 The thief, uiihor finding lli'.'iii nut marketable, or 

 from feuror other caimc, had abandoned them, nnd 

 llioy wero found about a mile from the town. "I've 

 brought 'em bad,," said li^', "but I doubt if two 

 of 'em be worth the filcliina I" The following 

 day another died, and «itliin a few days another. 

 My six sheep wore now rciliiccd to two. Richnrd 

 hid no confidence jn their hxiks, ami said if ono 

 would lamb, it would b-; lucky. .After a lime they 

 did lamb. I had now Iwo slicep and two lambs, 

 for my purchase of six ; then one of. the sheep and 

 one of the lunibs got bud heads, and Richard pro- 

 nounced their doom, and advised mc to send them 

 to the next fair. I took his advice, and to Ihe fair 

 he went with them, and brought me back £1, 3*. 

 bJ. ; a pretty business this was — keep thrown away 



nearly all the purchase-money thrown away — all 



my looking at the sheep thrown away — nothing 

 lel\ but the remombrancH o' Richard's looks, say- 

 ings, and doings, which I doubt not, you. Eusebius, 

 will think well worth the cost. I need not go or. 

 to tell you how the cow got staked, the horse 

 wounded by a pick run into him at hay -making, 

 how the sow devoured her young — these are minor 

 annoyances. 'I here were others much more seri- 

 ous, so that ere long I found my spirits flag; the 

 love of farming, like most forced loves, departed 

 from me, a general ennui came upon me. I saw 

 iiolhing in a pleasant light, for, as yet, I could not 

 return to my former pursuits. The worst of rare 

 is, that it makes a man see, .as it were, quite tliro'igh 

 the layer of ple.isiire and delight, that like a kindly 

 atmosphere envelopes the world, down to the bare 

 skeleton of things, and presents to the intellectual 

 eye nothing but deformity. We become disen- 

 chanted, ungiftcd. As in the fabulous times, when 

 gods mingled in the battles of men, there was a 

 cloud removed from before the eyes of llie lieroea 

 to 1 tble them to see deities ; so is it now remov- 

 ed by care to enable us to see devils. So much, 

 Eiisebius, are wc deteriorated from llie golden age. 

 We are even beyond the iron — we live in an age 

 of mud and ditch-water, which is continually stirred 

 into horrible commotion and restlessness, by the 

 tempests of our own wilful passions. 



« • I was like the man that said if he had 

 been bred a hatter, men would have come inlo the 

 world without heads. I delcrinined, therefore, to 

 give up farming, before it gave me up. I deter- 

 mined to dispose of my foolish speculation, and 

 have done so; yet, I cannot but tell you the last 

 farming conversation between me and Richard. 

 Vou know what a horrible season we have had. 

 One day, as it was pouring rain, Richard said there 

 was no help for it, but the— what shall we call it, 

 what, ought to have been hay, must be drawn inlo 

 the yard, it was good for nothing but muck. "Il'» 

 terribly "Ct," says he, "and them oats is wet." — 

 " Ay, ay," said I, in disgust, " It '6 all wet, Richard, 

 all wet, wet, wet." " No, your honor, quoth Rich- 

 ard, with his most exquisite look, "It ain't all wet, 

 the cow '« dry .'" 



My dear Eusebius, ever yours, . 



Forest tree seeds should not be suffered to be- 

 I como dry before they are planted, and when planl- 

 I ed they should not be covered loo deep. We had 

 I good success in planting the butternut, by merely 

 ! pressing the nut inlo the earth by the foot. — Mc. Far. 



