AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
181 
TIMOTHY BUNKER, ESQ. | 
This gentleman of the old school, whose 
name has repeatedly appeared in our pages 
has elicited so much interest, that we give 
a brief sketch of his career to satisfy the pub¬ 
lic curiosity. He now holds the office of 
Justice of the Peace, though he was so late 
in arriving at this honor, that every body 
calls him Tim Bunker, just as they used to. 
He himself blushes at the title, and perhaps 
feels insulted if any of his old neighbors call 
him anything else. It is said,however,that 
his wife in speaking of the husband of her 
youth to third persons, does sometimes give 
him the honors, but she is very careful never 
to call him Esq. Bunker, in his presence. 
He was bred and born in Connecticut, and 
is a product of her soil and institutions so 
unique, that it were impossible for Tim 
Bunker to have grown up any where else. 
He would have been another man. He lives 
in Hookertown, in the first ecclesiastical 
society, and all his ancestry for five gener¬ 
ations back, have been members of the 
church of the standing order in that ancient 
commonwealth. He is not himself a mem¬ 
ber of the church, but his orthodoxy is as 
vigorous and sturdy as the most devout mem¬ 
ber of the Puritan church where he wor¬ 
ships. He reveres the institutions of relig¬ 
ion, and is aspunctualat (he meetinghouse, 
on the sabbath, as the sexton or the pi’each- 
er. His model man is Deacon Smith though 
he follows him afar off both in horticulture, 
and in religion. He is as zealous as the 
Deacon in the defence of the speculative 
doctrines of the church, and is quite as cor¬ 
rect in his moral deportment. By all but his 
intimate friends, he is supposed to be a 
member ; so correct is he, in his opinions 
and practices. His personal appearance 
is somewhat striking. He is just about me¬ 
dium size, square built and stout, and though 
past sixty, can keep up with the smartest of 
his hands in the field at any kind of work. 
He has an open manly face, expressive of 
benevolence, and his look does not belie his 
character. He is known far and near as an 
excellent neighbor, always ready to help at 
a bad job, to change work, to lend his horse 
or oxen, even when it is not quite conve¬ 
nient for himself. In dress, he is always 
behind the times. The Sunday hat has been 
his for five years, and neither rim nor crown 
has changed with the changes of the fash¬ 
ions. His dress is of the same age, and the 
only trouble pertaining to dress that agitates 
him is the apprehension that his habiliments 
will sometime wear out in spite of his scru¬ 
pulous care. A change of suit always goes 
hard with him, and it requires the most adroit 
management of his good wife to get him 
safely out of the old into the new. He has 
been in a condition, which she calls “ not 
fit to be seen ” for a full year before she can 
effect a change of Sunday suit. 
In politics Tim Bunker was a whig until 
the last presidential election since which 
time parties have become so much split up, 
that for once he has found himself entirely 
at a loss. For his part he can not see what 
few years. If the world ever gets finished, 
and adjusted to a given position, he will be 
a supremely happy man. 
He has always lived upon the ancestral 
farm, and by a life of industry has succeeded 
in bying out the rights of the other heirs, and 
now owns in fee simple, all the paternal 
acres. He is a good sample of the old style 
farmer, shy of books and papers, that treat 
of husbandry, and a frequent quoter of that 
old proverb that “ old birds are not to be 
caught with chaff.” Tim however was once 
caught, if not with chaff, at least with some¬ 
thing very like it. Some five and twenty 
years ago, there was a Rohan potato fever 
that infected all Hookertown. Many of his 
neighbors who read the paper experimented 
with the article, and among the rest his mod¬ 
el man Deacon Smith, went into the specu¬ 
lation. Tim Bunker believed in practical 
farming, and as these potatoes were mani¬ 
festly a reality, he bought of the Deacon a 
bushel of Rohans, for ten dollars. This was 
pretty warm in the mouth, but as some sold 
for fifteen the same season, he was satisfied 
with his bargain. It was the last year of 
the speculation, and the Fall crop was dull 
in the market at a dollar the bushel. Tim 
Bunker rubbed his eyes, with both his fore¬ 
fingers in the harvest, and declared that he 
would never touch another new thing. But 
he has repented of that vow, and adopted 
quite a number of new things that have been 
tested in the Deacon’s garden. He is al¬ 
ways certain to make the Deacon pay for his 
own experiments, and only adopts the new 
fruit or vegetable, when he is certain it will 
pay. He has lately got wind of the Dios- 
corra Batatas. His neighbor lent him the 
nursery pamphlet, in which the wonderful 
productiveness of that astonishing tuber 
was duly set forth. Tim digested its con¬ 
tents, and when he returned the pamphlet, 
very drily inquired, “ Deacon, does not this 
make you think of the Rohan ?” He will 
not purchase this year. 
Conservative as he is, there is manifest 
progress with Mr. Bnnker, and a real im¬ 
provement is sure to find its w r ay, in due 
time, to his farm. The debt and credit ac¬ 
count of his adventure in purusit of the 
blackberry plants as he read it in the Dea¬ 
con’s Agriculturist, struck Tim full in the 
face. He has not stopped thinking of it 
yet, and we hope to record his name, before 
a great while, upon our list of subscribers. 
P. S.—The seed has borne fruit. We re¬ 
ceived the following letter this morning : 
Hookertown, Ct., April 15, 1856. 
. Dear Sir : Inclosed please find $1 for the 
Agriculturist, for one year. 
Timothy Bunker. 
0. Judd, Esq., New-York City. 
The Man Diogenes was Looking After.— 
Judge W. B. Robertson, of the Sixth District 
Court, in La., on discharging the Grand Jury 
Tuesday last, reprimanded himself for hav¬ 
ing forgotten the day fixed by law for the 
present term of court in this Parish, and for 
this oversight informed thejury thathe should 
fine himself twenty-five dollars. He imme¬ 
diately drew a check for the amount, and 
handing it to the Sheriff, instructed him to 
collect the same and give it to the Female 
Orphan Association of Baton Rouge, 
£cmm, ©rrljartr, ®arfren, &c. 
SHARP HITS AT “BUILDERS” OF SUB-UR¬ 
BAN VILLAGES. 
The Horticulturist for April gives some 
decidedly wholesome advice to the getters 
up ofcountry villages. The “ city Fathers ” 
of many country towns already “built” 
may profit by .a perusal.— Ed. 
Editor. And so, my worthy friend, you 
have turned rural improver, and are plan¬ 
ning not only for your own homestead, but 
actually laying out a village ? 
Improver. Ay, am I! The railroad from 
the city passes through these farms, which 
I have purchased cheap, and I am enacting 
the character of a founder. 
Editor. Very good; every citizen who 
becomes a purchaser will have cause to 
thank you in the improved health of his fam¬ 
ily, and their increased enjoyments. What 
is the size of your lots 1 
Improver. Single lots, twenty feet by one 
hundred ; double lots, just twice that size. 
In the alleys you see here on the plan, the 
plots are fifteen by sixty, ft cuts up beau¬ 
tifully! 
Editor. And, pray, why do you follow so 
exactly the plan of all rectangular cities I 
Improver. Because it cuts up the land to 
so much greater profit. I mean to clear a 
hundred thousand! 
Editor. That prospective profit is not so 
clear to me. lean see no advantage you 
offer ; no inducement to leave one closely- 
packed city to come and found another. 
Improver. Why, my dear sir! look at the 
prices here and at those in town ! I sell 
now for a dollar a foot on ground rent, 
while, in the city suburbs, prices vary from 
six to ten dollars. 
Editor. That may be very true ; but, to 
beginners, you offer neither good schools, 
paved walks, water, nor gas ; and as for a 
garden, except one purchases a dozen of your 
“single lots,” and that would be expensive, 
1 shall be greatly surprised if you have any 
customers. 
Improver. Really ; you are not very flat¬ 
tering ! I go upon the notion that there is 
a fool born every day, and if I can get but 
one year’s crop into my net, the hundred 
thousand is secure. They won’t find out that 
it is to be a crowded town till it is pretty well 
built, and then I needn’t care. 
Editor. I came to see your lots, induced 
by your flaming advertisement; you did not 
know I thought of becoming a purchaser! 
A glance at your map was discouragement 
enough ; your unblushing avowal of your 
selfish purposes is apparent on the face of 
your plan ; so, taking no advantage of your 
declarations, let me point out to you where 
you are wrong. In the first place, this 
broad continent is large enough to give every 
household at least room and verge enough 
for a kitchen garden, and a place, besides, 
for his children to play in, without always 
resorting to the streets. I can see no rea¬ 
son why you should pocket an hundred 
t housand dollars from the earnings of others 
