Preparation of Soil by Drainage. 69 



I commenced at the lowest point where it finally leaves my grounds, 

 and dug a canal (K K), twelve feet wide by four or five deep, across my 

 place, stoning up its walls on either side. An immense amount of earth 

 and gravel was thrown on the lower side so as to form a high, strong 

 embankment in addition to the channel. Then, where it entered the farm 

 above the meadow, I had a wide, deep ditch excavated, throwing all the 

 debris between it and the land I wished to shield. Throughout the low 

 meadow, two covered box-drains (L and M) were constructed so that the 

 plow could pass over them. On the side of the meadow next to the boule- 

 vard and mountain, I had an open drain (N N) dug and filled with stones 

 even with the ground. It was designed to catch and carry off the surface 

 water, merely, from the long extent of mountain-slope that it skirted. The 

 system of ditches to protect and drain the partial swamp, and also to manage 

 the deceitful brook, was now finished, and I waited for the results. During 

 much of the summer, there was not a drop of water in the wide canal, save 

 where a living spring trickled into it. The ordinary fall rains could scarcely 

 more than cover the broad, pebbly bottom, and the unsophisticated laughed 

 and said that I reminded them of the general who trained a forty-pound 

 gun on a belligerent mouse. I remembered what I had seen, and bided my 

 time. 



But I did not have to wait till March. One November day, it began to 

 rain, and it kept on. All the following night there was a steady rush and 

 roar of falling water. It was no ordinary pattering, but a gusty outpouring 

 from the "windows of heaven." The two swales in the front and rear of 

 the house became great muddy ponds, tawny as the " yellow Tiber," and 

 through intervals of the storm came the sullen roar of the little brook that 

 had been purring like a kitten all summer. Toward night, Nature grew 

 breathless and exhausted ; there were sobbing gusts of wind and sudden 

 gushes of rain that grew less and less frequent. It was evident she would 

 become quiet in the night and quite serene after her long, tempestuous 

 mood. 



As the sun was setting, I ventured out with much misgiving. The 

 deepening roar as I went down the lane increased my fears, but I was fairly 

 appalled by the wild torrent that cut off all approach to the bridge. The 

 water had not only filled the wide canal, but also, at a point a little above 

 the bridge, had broken over and washed away the high embankment. I 

 skirted along the tide until I reached the part of the bank that still 

 remained intact, and there beneath my feet rushed a flood that would have 

 instantly swept away horse and rider. Indeed, quite a large tree had been 

 torn up by its roots, and carried down until it caught in the bridge, which 

 would also have gone had not the embankment above it given way. 



