THE DAILY LIFE OF OUR FARM. 263 



got was that during the very hot weather one bucket of 

 water was thrown over it. The result was that twenty- 

 six tubers were taken up, seven weighing over a pound 

 each. I have two beside me which have been laid on 

 the pantry shelf for some time exposed to the sunny 

 air. The biggest were all cooked. My tape, however, 

 measures these to be in circumference across ten inches, 

 lengthways one foot. The whole produce of the root, 

 old Melon tells me, was thirteen pounds of excellent 

 mealy tubers. The sort is called hereabouts the Scotch 

 York. Since writing the above I am thankful to have 

 finished the planting of an acre during beautiful weather, 

 in a kind bed. We are now busy with the walnut har- 

 vest. What brown fingers and stained nails the juveniles 

 display ! while at any moment of the day they can pro- 

 duce from their stores in pocket or drawer any reason- 

 able amount of delicious kernel, chestnut, filbert, or 

 walnut. There is old Melon's boy up on a slight bough, 

 waving to and fro before my window at this moment 

 while I write. The old man got an awkward fall from 

 a ladder some three weeks since, and is more wary of 

 climbing. 



The cook is busy in the preparation of fruit after a 

 plan of which we knew nothing until a French lady 

 taught us some days since. She divides into quarters, 

 subdivided again, such of the huge apples and pears 

 (which we are wont to store) as have fallen from the 

 tree, and, being consequently bruised, would not keep 

 in the usual way. I had the precaution to allow a 

 considerable growth of grass under the trees, so as to 

 save the fruit as much as possible in its collision with 

 Mother Earth. These quarters cook bakes in the oven, 

 as the sun is not hot enough now to serve our purpose, 



