66 Down among the Jerseys. 



found thousands of acres as yet untouched by the plough, which are, per- 

 haps, as fertile as any in the State. A few years ago, New Jersey contained 

 over two million acres of unimproved land, most of which could have been, 

 or may even now be, bought for from one to five dollars per acre. That 

 was because there were few branch-railroads, and the prices obtained would 

 not warrant the expense of carting their crops to remote stations on the 

 Camden and Amboy Railroad. The same proverbially heavy sand made 

 this carting with loaded teams quite a serious drawback to any successful 

 market-farming. Large tracts of land lay idle, either in sandy barrens, or 

 covered for many miles with pine-forests and " scrub " oaks as they are 

 called, — doubtless a perversion of " j-Z^/v/Z"," as they never attain to the 

 dignity of trees. 



Now and then occurs a huge fire in these pines, lighted, perhaps, by some 

 careless cabin-family; and, in the dry weather of midsummer, it often burns 

 for weeks, destroying miles of valuable timber, and filling the atmosphere 

 with dense smoke, while it imperils the lives of hundreds of poor squatters 

 and charcoal-burners who have there pitched their rude cabins. 



When the fire has sped its course for some time without prospect of 

 abatement, the inhabitants kindle a counter-flame at some point in advance 

 of the fire. Then, by a strange provision of Nature which philosophers 

 can doubtless explain, the new fire will burn to meet the other ; and, leaving 

 vacancy behind it, the space thus created will, as a matter of course, soon 

 end the destruction. 



Any one who has looked upon these burnt-over regions knows how deso- 

 late and black and barren they appear ; yet, if revisited next year, they 

 will be green again with the spontaneous growth of the before-mentioned 

 scrub-oaks, which invariably spring up, unplanted, wherever pine-forests 

 have previously been. 



But a word in regard to the inhabitants of these pines. As you pass 

 along the sandy roads that intersect them, you will here and there meet 

 with their miserable abodes, — huts, or cabins, consisting of one room, liter- 

 ally on the "ground" floor. They are generally teeming with children of 

 all sizes, often nearly or quite naked, and always the very personifications 

 of filth and v/retchedness. As soon as the sound of an approaching vehi- 

 cle is heard, it is the signal for the inmates to come forth ; and thereupon 



