Thatching. 123 
which to pass the tar cord through when thatching a 
shed, and his small sharp billhook to split out his 
thatching stakes. These are of willow, cut from the 
pollard trees by the brook, and he sits on a stool in 
the shed and splits them into three or four with the 
greatest dexterity, giving his billhook a twist this 
way and then that, and so guiding the split in the 
direction required. Then holding it across his knee, 
he cuts the point with a couple of blows and casts the 
finished stake aside upon the heap. 
A. man of no little consequence is the thatcher, 
the most important perhaps of the hamlet craftsmen. 
He ornaments the wheat ricks with curious twisted 
tufts of straw, standing up not unlike the fantastic 
ways in which savages are represented doing their 
hair. But he does not put the thatch on the wheat 
half so substantially as formerly because now only a 
few remain the winter—the thatch is often hardly on 
before it is off again for the threshing machine—for 
the ‘sheening,’ as they call it. On the hayricks, which 
stand longer, he puts better work, especially on the 
southern and western sides or angles, binding it down 
with a crosswork of bonds to prevent the gales which 
blow from those quarters unroofing the rick. 
It is said to be an ill wind that blows nobody any 
good: now the wind never blew that was strong 
enough to please the thatcher. If the hurricane 
roughs up the straw on all the ricks in the parish, 
unroofs half-a-dozen sheds, and does not spare the 
