46 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
The Wood Pile- 
Has the next season’s supply of wood been 
gathered as we strongly advised in December 
last! You know that it is not economical to 
burn green wood. A cord ol it often contains 
1500 lbs. of water. Of course this water will 
not burn, and it must be got rid of somehow be¬ 
fore the wood containing it can burn. It may be 
disposed of by seasoning the wood beforehand in 
the open air, or by applying fire to the wood 
while green. The first process costs nothing ; the 
latter costs a good deal of wood and patience. In 
other words, it takes more green wood to make 
the same amount of heat than it does of dry 
wood, and causes much trouble besides. 
No man deserves the name of a good provider, 
who neglects to lay up a good stock of seasoned 
wood for the use of his family. How much an¬ 
noyance in kindling fires on cold mornings is 
saved by having good wood, and how much labor 
in cooking food and in warming apartments, no 
one knows who has not tried it. Let no man 
blame his wife for late and irregular and poorly 
cooked meals, or for a clouded brow or impatient 
words, or fretful children and a disorderly house, 
if he compels her to use green wood. 
Hear, then, our final word of admonition for 
this season! Now, before the ice breaks up in 
the swamps, and the snow melts from the roads, 
see to it that a good supply of wood is cut and 
drawn into the back-yard. Arrived there, let it be 
sawed into convenient lengths and split, and then 
piled up so that the winds of March and April 
can blow through it, and the bright sun shine 
upon it. In the lattei part of April or early in 
May, let it be got under cover. If t'his don’t help 
answer the question, “ How to make home hap¬ 
py,” we should like to know it. 
An Apology for Tim Bunker. 
LETTER FROM JAKE FRINK. 
Mr. Editur : 
Square Bunker went by our house this mornin 
jest arter sunrise on his way to the deepo. He 
sed he hadn’t a bit of time to write, but he’d like 
to have me tell you, that he had been called out 
o’ town, suddently on bizziness, and should’nt be 
back in sum weeks. He axed me to write in bis 
place this time, and I deklare I never felt sokuris 
in my life—I han't got much ederkashun, and 
never had, and I could’nt help thinkin’the Square 
was krackin one of his dry jokes on me, when 
he put me up to sich a thing—guess he’d be more 
astonished than the next man, if you should 
take it into yer head to print this ere riting. But 
you jest du it, and I’ll give you a dollar out of my 
own pocket, for the sake of gitting the start on 
the Square for oncet. He is a hard man to beet 
i kno, but Hookertown is a great country—and 
there is sum more peeple in it than you have 
lieerd on. Them karrots, that Tim Bunker’s al- 
lers runnin me on, I wan’t so much to blame 
about—I’d like to have my sa on that subjeckt. 
Ye see, I knew mi man jest as well as the Square 
did, and a leetle better. I alters understood 
trade, better than farmin, and I knew i culd git 
the premium by a leetle kalkulashun. Now kal- 
kulashun I hold to be the cheef eend of man, that 
which distinguishes him above all kattle-kind, 
and so i used it in the kase of the karrots and 
carried my pint. 
Sum folks perhaps thinks, that all Square Bunk¬ 
er rites abeout is made up eout of his lied, kind 
o’ novil fashun. I tell you it’s a mistake. The 
hull on’t is a rekord of fax, and pretty much as 
they happened, so that up heer in Hookertown 
they look for the Square’s tetter in yeur paper, to 
know what has happened. That story about the 
hoss-pond is all true as preachin, and a great deel 
truer than sum on’t, i guess. The bottom is all 
dry neow, and the lot is abeout the best one on 
the farm. That tile bridge was a kuris notion, 
and I must own beet on it. I might have thunk, 
and thunk, forever, and i should never have 
thunk that eout—but the watter rushes threw 
there, as if it had been shot eout of a kannon. I 
dew declare I bleeve he greesed the plank, it 
goes so slick. 
I don't kno what the Square has gone off fur— 
but I guess its to bi kattle. Kattle have been 
mighty low all the Fall, and the Square has plenty 
of hay, and fodder, and makes a considerable biz¬ 
ziness of fattin kattle in the winter, tho’ he han’t 
sed any thing on that pint yit in the paper. In¬ 
deed he han’t told half he kno’s, and i spect he 
wont if he rites a dozen years. I guess hee’l git 
a new idee when he sees this in print. I never 
had a tetter printed, and indeed, folks in gineral 
have never dun much for me, but Jake Frink is a 
man of his wurd, and will pay, if you’ll put it in. 
Yourn furever, Jacob Frink. 
Hookertoum, Dec. 30, 1858. 
Written for the American Agriculturist—Prize Articles. 
Farm Fencing..... .II- 
HEDGES. 
We do not propose to inflict on the American 
farmer a theoretical discussion on such a contro¬ 
verted subject as hedging our farms and fields. 
The writer has watched the progress of hedges 
in this country for forty years, as they occurred 
at various intervals of time, and space in our 
travels ; and since our first familiarity with farm 
labors commenced, our reading and observations 
relating to their success in our own country have 
been constant and sharp. England has been held 
up to us from time immemorial for the beauty and 
security of its Hawthorn Hedges. The whole 
country is checkered with them. “ Ditching and 
hedging” are English institutions; and the 
“Hawthorn,” and its poetic associations have 
for many centuries been household words with its 
people. Coupled with the “hedge,” also, are 
tales of poaching, the rabbit-warrens, the fox- 
burrows, and the haunts of all sorts of four leg¬ 
ged vermin, and winged small birds—saying 
nothing of “game.” 
Let us examine somewhat into the English 
hedges as a thing of utility and protection to their 
fields, and crops. There are hedges in England, 
men say, centuries old. Growing along in their 
lines are grand old trees, “pollarded”—many of 
them, that is: their tops cut off from time to 
time to make fuel. They stand on banks of earth 
thrown out of adjoining ditches, in some cases 
many feet wide including ditch, and bank. They 
are barriers against all animals roaming at large, 
and to men, but are wonderful and prolific protect¬ 
ors and harbors of birds noxious to the farmer, 
and his crops. They occupy a deal of valuable 
cropping land, and pasturage. In the olden days 
of small farms, and numerous freeholds, they were 
multitudinous in number ; but in later days of im¬ 
proved and extending farming, thousands of mites 
of them have been cut down and rooted out, their 
banks leveled, and ditches filled, for the purpose 
of enlarging the fields, and saving labor in culti¬ 
vating the crops. Yet the main dividingjines of 
the farms and fields and enclosures from the 
highway, remain in hedge, although subjected to 
perpetual repairs, filling up, plashing, trimming 
and cultivating, at a very considerable expense. 
Now, what is the climate of England! Moist 
and cool, as general features. The thermometer 
—Fahrenheit—rarely rises to 80° in Summer, 
and scarcely ever falls below 20° above zero, in 
M inter ; consequently, heavy frosts, or extreme 
drouths are rarely ever felt, and never prevail 
—at least, as we have them in America. As 
a rule, the ground is also always moist, and re¬ 
freshed with frequent gentle rains. The banks 
supporting the hedges do not crumble with the 
frosts, and their usual moisture holds them in 
place, as laid up. The hawthorn does not blight 
nor mildew, as in America. It takes firm hold in 
its native earth, for it is indigenous to the soil, 
and grows everywhere, either with, or without 
cultivation. Taken altogether, then, the Haw¬ 
thorn is a natural fencing plant in England, south¬ 
ern Scotland, and in Ireland,their immediate neigh¬ 
bor. Timber, either split into rails or paling, is 
too scarce and dear for fencing ; and stone is, com¬ 
paratively, but little used. Probably, therefore, 
hedges are the best, and most economical for 
farm fences in those countries. 
With us, in America, the climate is far differ¬ 
ent. We have deep frosts in Winter, and exces¬ 
sive drouths in Summer. The Hawthorn does 
not thrive with us. It winter-kills in many local¬ 
ities, and blights and mildews almost everywhere. 
It has been tried for more than a century in 
various places as a hedge plant, and after a few 
years’ cultivation, has been abandoned—not in 
every instance, we admit; but among all its trials, 
we never yet saw or heard of a mite of good, con¬ 
tinuous Hawthorn hedge, in America. Therefore, 
we put down the Hawthorn as an impracticable 
hedge for our farmers to cultivate. 
Now, as to American hedges of any kind, as a 
system of farm fencing. Failing with the Haw¬ 
thorn, the common American White, and Black¬ 
thorns have been repeatedly tried. We saw a 
few apparently successful thorn hedges many 
years ago, in the State of Delaware. But they 
were imperfect in growth, and many wide, un¬ 
sightly gaps were visible, filled in with boards and 
posts, or rails, showing, evidently, that either the 
system, or the farmer himself was in fault. We 
have seen, also, in several other States, attempts 
at hedge enclosure, but never a perfect hedge to 
the extent of enclosing a hundred acres of ground. 
These “ attempts ” have been repeated for a cen¬ 
tury past; page after page has been enthusias¬ 
tically written in their favor ; a large amount of 
money and labor have been expended to estab¬ 
lish them as enclosures—and still we have no 
hedges, to speak of. There must be a radical 
difficulty somewhere—either the hedges will not 
grow, or we do not know how to grow them. 
Yet, hedge growing Englishmen, at home, have 
tried them thoroughly here, and after a white have 
given them up, equally with our own native cul¬ 
tivators, and adopted, in common with them, wall¬ 
ing, railing, or boarding in their farms and fields, 
as circumstances best determined. 
Thus far, then, it has been practically settled 
that thorn hedging will not do for America. 
But since the great prairie regions of'the West¬ 
ern States have been partially settled, and 
brought into cultivation, the subject of hedges has 
been actively canvassed in our papers and peri¬ 
odicals, and numerous attempts have been made 
to adopt those of some new material of American 
growth. The Buckthorn has been proposed, and 
canvassed. The Apple—wild crab, and that of 
the nurseries—has been recommended. The 
common Yellow Locust; the American three- 
thorned Acacia ( Gledilschia triacantlios ) ; the 
American Arbor Vitas, the White Cedar; and, 
more extensively, the Osage Orange have been 
highly recommended, as locality, partiality, or pro¬ 
babilities of success have prevailed with their ad- 
