The more one travels in foreign countries, the more he is convinced of the folly of so much fence-work as we have on New England farms. It is a waste of labor and material, an abuse of the ground itself, and a loss of the land, usually uncultivated, lying close against the partitions; and, in addition, the shade is objectionable. Of course some divisions are needed; but many of them exist, as a necessity, only in the farmer's imagination. There are but few New England farms where a large amount of labor and time are not worse than wasted in repairs of cross walls, set up by our fathers and grandfathers, which would be used to a much better purpose if employed in their demolition. LIMERICK. After a ride of five hours, having on the way passed back through Mallow, we arrived in Limerick, where we took rooms at the Royal George Hotel. Valises deposited, and the usual toilet operations gone through with, we walk out to see this place, so like Cork and Dublin. Limerick is the capital of the county of Limerick. It is on a narrow arm of the sea, or mouth of the River Shannon, with a population of 49,670. It consists of an English town, built on an island of the Shannon, and also an Irish one; and it has a suburb called Newton Perry, on the left bank of the river. These three portions are connected by five bridges, one of which, the Wellesley Bridge, cost $425,000. We were pleasantly surprised with the appearance of the place, with the cleanness of the streets, and their good pavements, and the general order and substantial condition of all we saw. We speak now of the English portion, which is in fact the larger and principal division of the place. The surface is level, and the buildings are mostly of dark-colored brick. They are generally three or four stories high, without decoration, save simple brick cornices and arched doorways to the houses. There are solid and plainly finished fronts to the stores. The streets are of strikingly uniform appearance, presenting only here and there anything to attract notice. It has its slums like Cork; but of these we need not speak now. We next begin our walk to the cathedral, for this was the first of the cathedrals we had reached. The greater part of the edifice, as it now stands, was built during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries, and so is six hundred years old. We readily found it, and came to one of the iron gates leading to the burial-ground in front of it. The dark and antiquated look of the old, massive structure impressed us favorably, and touched the right chord. We had seen castles and abbeys in fine ruin, but they belonged to a dead past. We were hungering for something ancient in which the living present was playing its part, and nothing feeds this hunger so well as a cathedral, especially those that, at the Reformation, passed over from Catholicism to Protestantism, as this has done.