I like the idea of the birch-hedge much, and if intermixed with holly and thorns, I think it might make an impenetrable thicket, having all the advantages of a hedge without the formality. I fancy you will also need a great number of (black) Italian poplars--which are among the most useful and best growers, as well as most beautiful of plants which love a wet soil. I am glad the saws are going.[90] We may begin by and by with wrights, but I cannot but think that a handy laborer might be taught to work at them. I shall insist on Tom learning the process perfectly himself. [Footnote 90: A sawmill had just been erected at Toftfield.] As to the darkness of the garrets, they are intended for the accommodation of travelling geniuses, poets, painters, and so forth, and a little obscurity will refresh their shattered brains. I dare say Lauchie[91] will _shave_ {p.220} his knoll, if it is required--it may to the barber's with the Laird's hebdomadal beard--and Packwood would have thought it the easier job of the two. [Footnote 91: A cocklaird adjoining Abbotsford at the eastern side. His farm is properly _Lochbreist_; but in the neighborhood he was generally known as _Laird Lauchie_--or _Lauchie Langlegs_. Washington Irving describes him in his _Abbotsford_, with high gusto. He was a most absurd original.]