MAY. 117 



towards the end of the month. The spring 

 crops being sown, the great business of the 

 farmer is now on his fallows. The farm-yard 

 is cleared of manure ; turf is pared and burnt. 

 Cow-cabbage and potatoes are planted, water- 

 meadows are irrigated to encourage the growth 

 of the hay-crop ; young quickset hedges are 

 cleared of weeds ; hop-plantations require clean- 

 ing, and other attentions. Now too, as the sap 

 begins to flow freely, trees are barked, and 

 felled, as the larch, alder, but especially the 

 oak. There is much of the picturesque in the 

 sight of the woodman at work at all times, and 

 although I regret to see the destruction of tim- 

 ber, yet a large tree with all its branches pro- 

 strate on the ground is a fine sight ; the clear, 

 golden-coloured chips scattered about, and a 

 fresh sylvan odour breathing from the wounded 

 boughs, and the brown cylindrical shells of 

 bark ranged in pyramidal rows to dry. It is a 

 beautiful but melancholy object, a noble oak 

 stripped of its bark just as all its " budding 

 honours" are become " thick upon it ;" and 

 felled to the ground, or left a blasted skeleton 

 in the midst of summer greenness. 



Abundance of grass now plunges the house- 

 wife into all the cares, and nice clean processes 

 of the dairy, skimming, churning, and cheese- 

 making. The farm-house is now an affluent 



