130 



A DISCOURSE 



BOOK I. towards the top of the tree, was, in work, to be always reversed ; and for 

 that it is not so subject to rift, Vitruvius commends it both for tenons 

 and mortises : But, besides these, and sundry other employments, it 

 makes also a second sort of charcoal ; and, finally, which I must not omit, 

 the use of the very leaves of this tree, especially of the female, is not 

 to be despised ; for, being suffered to dry in the sun upon the branches, 

 and the spray stripped off about the decrease in August, as also where 

 the suckers are supernumerary and hinder the thriving of their nurses, they 

 will prove a great relief to cattle, in winter and in scorching summers, 

 when hay and fodder is dear ; they will eat them before oats, and thrive 

 exceedingly well with them ; remember only to lay your boughs up in 

 some dry and sweet corner of your barn. — It was for this the poet praised 

 them, and the epithet was advised : 



Fcecundas frondibus Ulmi. virg. 

 Fruitful in leaves the Elra. 



In some parts of Herefordshire they gather them in sacks for their 

 swine and other cattle, according to this husbandry But I hear an ill 

 report of this tree for bees, that, surfeiting of the blooming seeds, they 

 are obnoxious to the lask' at their first going abroad in the spring, which 



"I The Roman husbandmen fed their cattle with the leaves of trees, but the preference 

 was given to those of the Elm. The English husbandman, who lives in the neighbourhood 

 of extensive woods, would do well to attend to this branch of rural economy. When hay 

 is dear, dried leaves (of all kinds) are highly valuable. Columella considers twenty pecks 

 of dried leaves as equal to thirty pounds of hay. " Si grano abstinemus, frondis aridte 



corbis pabulatoria modiorum viginti sufficit, vel foeni pondo triginti." Lib. vi. c. 3. 



* Virgil gives a most beautiful description of this malady, so fatal to his favourite 

 bees : 



But when, as human ills descend to bees. 

 The pilling nation labours with disease ; 

 Chang'd is their glittering hue to ghastly pale, 

 Roughness and leanness o'er their limbs prevail ; 

 Forth the dead citizens with grief are borne, 

 In solemn state the sad attendants mourn. 

 Clung by the feet they hang the live-long day 

 Around the door, or in their chambers stay ; 

 Hunger and cold, and grief their toils delay. 

 'Tis then in hoarser tones (heir hums resound, 

 Like hollow winds the rustling forest round. 



