There are those who speak in favour of hedge-row timber as affording shade for cattle; but we should remember that when this is so, the cattle, by being thus gathered to one spot, only aid in manuring those portions of the field where the grass is always more rank than nutritious, and this to the robbery of other portions of the field. For ourselves, we would rather have our fields exposed to the influence of sun and air, and, if required, have some contrivances for shade which could be moved about the fields at pleasure. The shade of trees keeps off those refreshing showers so important to vegetation, but in much wet the trees send down a drip which is sometimes found to be so injurious as to prevent any good growth beneath them, and then as the leaves fall off they often poison the soil for some distance, while the roots impoverish the land in every direction. We have just visited a field, in the southern hedge of which are growing some beech trees; these not only keep off the southern sun, but their drip and fallen leaves render fully one-eighth of the field nearly useless. Again, do we not everywhere find twice the number of hedges that are required; and, to add to the mischief, these filled with trees? In many places we see elms not more than three yards apart. Here the shade would be intolerable, but the farmer is allowed to lop them until they look not unlike the stuck-up tails of French poodle dogs—a process which certainly diminishes the evils they entail upon the farmer, but renders the timber comparatively useless. But, say the advocates of tall hedges and hedge-row timber, “How beautiful they make the country look! Your plan would leave it all bare and desolate; no song of birds to cheer the wayfarer,” &c. But stop, good people; we love trees, but we do not care so much for straight lines of stuck-up _besoms_. Let the landlord grow his woods and his groves, and plant his parks. Let him put trees in parts which will grow nothing better, and in belts to keep off malignant winds; and even here (the best places for them), let him be content with their pleasure and profit as a rent for the ground they occupy, and not, as some do, insist upon the tenant yearly planting trees in positions which must injure so much land which he is still to pay rent for. This is about as tyrannical as to make a schoolboy carry a birch, and ask for its application. As regards the loss of land by the division into smaller fields, we cannot do better than copy the former outlines of an arable field on our own farm. This, which is now one field of over fifty acres, was formerly in fifteen fenced fields, each with a ragged hedge—of anything but quicks—planted upon raised mounds. Now, the gain in the removal of fences, indicated by the dotted lines (see fig. 1), may be explained by the following calculations:— [Illustration: FIG. 1. _Field with its old divisions, now removed, as marked by the dotted lines._]