a 
the flocks, and to render them so ill-clad as to 
be unable to withstand the storms of winter. 
The eye of patriotic poetry, indeed, may see in 
British sheep-walks loftier beauty and more glo- 
rious amenities than a farmer’s eye can discern 
in those of even the richest wool countries of 
the world; and John Dyer, the author of a poem 
called “The Fleece,” published in 1757, accord- 
ingly sung,— 
Our spacious airy downs and gentle hills, 
With grass and thyme o’erspread, and clover wild, 
Where smiling Phoebus tempers every breeze, 
The fairest flocks rejoice. 
No fleeces wave in torrid climes, 
Which verdure boast of trees and shrubs alone— 
Shrubs aromatic, coffee wild, or tea, 
Nutmegs, or cinnamon, or fiery clove, 
Unapt to feed the fleece. The food of wool 
Is grass or herbage soft, that ever blooms 
In temperate air, in the delicious downs 
Of Albion, on the banks of all her streams. 
But, however rich and grateful may be the herb- 
age of our dry and improved pastures, the pre- 
vailing dampness of our climate, as well as its 
occasional rigours and its many and violent 
changes, is an insuperable hindrance to the pro- 
duction of fine wool. Our system of manage- 
ment, also, can never have reference to any 
higher qualities of wool than the second-rate, 
and must always bear with main force upon the 
properties of the mutton. Even our driest pas- 
tures, the chalky downs of the South of Eng- 
land, give a roughness to the wool of our very 
best breeds; and our indispensable practice of 
aiding the pastures, and sometimes superseding 
them, with turnips and other succulent articles 
of diet, is fatal to all fineness of fleece. Dry pas- 
tures in a dry climate, aided when necessary by 
supplies of straw and other dry food, are essen- 
tial to the production of prime or even excellent 
wool,—and constitute the secret of all the suc- 
cess of the wool-growers of Australia and Spain 
and Germany,—and are things which cannot 
possibly be attained, in sufficient amplitude and 
power, in Britain. The usages of our population, 
too, particularly in its paramount demand for 
abundance of good mutton, and in its content- 
ment to derive all the main material for the 
finest kinds of woollen manufacture from other 
countries, compel our farmers, out of due regard 
to. their own interest, to pay far more attention 
to the carcase than to the fleece; and exactly 
the influences of almost every kind which are 
most favourable for producing bulk and excel- 
lence of mutton are correspondingly unfavour- 
able for producing good wool. ; 
The clothing of sheep in Britain and in all 
similar latitudes is naturally renewed once every 
| year,—the heavy old fleece falling gradually off 
in the early part of the warm season, and the 
| light new one gradually rising beneath it and 
| displacing it; and the annual shearing of sheep, 
practised by all British store-farmers, is simply 
the anticipating and the regularizing of the 
natural process. Wool, like hair, might be shorn 
at any time and often, and would always grow 
again after each cutting ; but, according to uni- 
versal experience, as well as on principles of ob- 
vious deduction from the character of our sea- 
sons, it cannot be economically shorn in Britain 
oftener than once a-year, or at any other time 
than about the commencement of the hottest 
part of summer. The shearing of lambs is quite 
unsuited to such a cold climate as ours, and is 
practised only in the most genial situations in a 
few of our warmest districts; and the great bulk 
of the lambs’ wool used by our manufacturers is 
either obtained from the skins of lambs killed by 
the butcher, or imported from other countries, 
The greater portion of our home-grown wool, or 
that which is taken from the bodies of living 
sheep, is prepared for the market by the pro- 
cesses described in our articles Sumarine oF 
SueEep and Fierce; and the lesser portion, or 
that which is obtained from the skins of slaugh- 
tered sheep, is prepared by the fellmonger, si- 
multaneously with the preparation of the hides, 
in a process which is described as follows by Mr. 
Southey :—“ The first operation is to place the 
skins, one by one, on a flat stone, and to beat 
the parts round the head with a wooden mallet, 
for the purpose of loosening any clots or tufts of 
coagulated blood adhering to them. ‘The skins 
thus prepared are then thrown into a vat of wa- 
ter to soak, in order to soften any substance or 
concretion which might attach to the wool. Af- 
ter remaining immersed from ten to twelve 
hours, the operation of washing commences by 
the following method :—This process is accom- 
panied by beating the skin with a pole while in 
the water, which is done for the purpose of re- 
moving any dirt which the wool may still retain, 
it being desirable that it should be made as free | 
from impurities as possible. When this opera- 
tion is concluded, the skins are placed one upon 
another, to the number of twenty or thirty, for 
the purpose of draining ; and when this is ac- 
complished, they are laid one by one on a ta- 
ble, with the flesh or pelt side uppermost, when 
a strong solution of lime and water should 
be applied to the fleshy side of the skin. The 
brush used on such occasions is similar to 
the one which whitewashers work with in col- 
ouring rooms; and when thus properly smeared 
over by one person, another should be in attend- 
ance to fold the skins, one by one, taking care 
that the pelt sides are placed inwards; and so 
soon as this is done, they are put on poles and 
laid about six deep, one above another. This 
mode is adopted for the purpose of causing the 
skins to heat, preparatory to the.wool being pull- | 
ed, as the process operates in such a manner as 
to open or loosen the pores of the skin, by which 
means the wool is more readily drawn from it. 
The day after the skins have undergone the ope- 
ration of liming and washing, they are taken 
down from the pole to shake off any water from 
