294 THE DAILY LIFE OF OUR FARM. 



against its earthen barrier (as you may see a hungry, 

 poaching old sow go trying with her snout along the 

 lowermost rail of the prohibitive fence) planted bushes 

 could serve no earthly purpose, save as a buffet for the 

 river's boxing powers, like the stuffed sack upon which 

 the ambitious prize-fighter at once burnishes his skill 

 and builds up muscle. The sack of course giadually 

 suffers, and would gladly I dare say, if it could, " hide 

 its diminished head ; " and, to pursue the figure even 

 further, as upon the day of real battle the human an- 

 tagonist hammered about the head gets shaky about 

 the feet, similarly do thick shrubs suffer when subjected 

 continually to the buffeting of the old river god ; they 

 ultimately give way and tumble over, breaking up from 

 its solidity too the bed on which they stood, and ex- 

 posing it in fragmentary shape to the force of the 

 invading torrent, which moreover, as the too gi-eedy 

 schoal-boy, impatiently chews as well as sucks his 

 plum. " I once tried the plan," one informant said, 

 " and it answered splendidly until one tremendous flood 

 came and swallowed up the whole concern." What was 

 this but the well-known experience of the ingenious 

 and economical old gentleman who by help of green 

 spectacles had just succeeded in inducing his faithful 

 Dobbin to feed on shavings and fancy it was grass, 

 when the gentle creature died ! The fact is, no gi'eater 

 mistake could be made than keeping a plantation on 

 the bank you want to save, in the fond hope that its 

 roots will keep the soil together. The ungrateful little 

 assemblage do nothing of the sort ; rather they are in a 

 continual fret to get free, which the savage river by its 

 worrying ultimately helps them to do. The only place 

 in which our piers have failed to " fulfil the promise of 



