THE DAILY LIFE OF OUR FARM. 91 



anticipation has not been gratified, although last winter 

 a fine fellow of about 91bs. weight was found embedded 

 in the ice, in a gutter upon the meadow, to which he 

 had retired probably in the condition in which Sheridan 

 was found, when with " unerring instinct " he gave the 

 name of Wilberforce to the watchman that disturbed 

 his damp slumber. This fish was in good condition, 

 and was eaten by a labourer's family. At some period 

 of his existence he had been indulged with a charge of 

 shot, which had spotted him smartly. 



Local experience is of vast value to every farmer. Of 

 course it is not to be supposed but that the tide of ages, 

 in its ebb and flow, has left a deposit of various quality 

 upon the minds of different districts. Last autumn we 

 recorded our intention to leave the clover-plant after 

 harvest unfed, expecting thereby to have a superior 

 spring show to our neighbours', whose practice it is to 

 gnaw the crop right into its heart, with sheep and even 

 horses turned on to pasture. Their argument is, that 

 they cannot get the light soil sufficiently firm other- 

 wise. I hoped that a good rolling would effect this 

 sufficiently. I see now, however, that their maltreated 

 fields are, as regards thickness of root, although not 

 forwardness of growth, far in advance of mine, and yet 

 my land was well dressed. 



One more wrinkle for my note-book. I see the rooks 

 have fastened upon a beech-tree before my window, 

 from which they are snapping off twigs with their 

 strong bills, for architectural use in the tall oak be- 

 yond. I fear that beech is destined, or it would not be 

 so brittle. It is curious that several of our finest 

 beeches have died during the last eighteen months. 

 There has prevailed some unpropitious influence — the 



