EDITOR. "And so, my worthy friend, you have turned rural improver, and are planning not only for your own homestead, but actually laying out a Tillage?"

Improver. "Ay, am I! The railroad from the city passes through these farms, which I have purchased cheap, and I am enacting the character of a founder." Editor. "Very good; every citizen who becomes a purchaser will have cause to thank you in the improved health of his family, and their increased enjoyments. What is the size of your lots?* Improver, "Single lots, twenty feet by one hundred; double lots, just twice that size. In the alleys you see here on the plan, the plots are fifteen by sixty. It cuts up beautifully!"

Editor. "And, pray, why do you follow so exactly the plan of all rectangular cities?"

Improver. "Because it eats up the land to so much greater profit I mean to clear a hundred thousand I"

Editor. "That prospective profit is not so clear to me. I can see no advantage you offer; no inducement to leave one closely-packed city to come and found another".

Improver. "Why, my dear sir! look at the prices here and at those in town! I sell now for a dollar a foot on ground rent, while, in the city suburbs, prices vary from six to ten dollars,"

Editor. "That may be very true; but, to beginners, you offer neither good schools, paved walks, water, nor gas; and as for space for a garden, except one purchases a dozen of your 'single lots,' and that would be expensive, I shall be greatly surprised if you have any customers".

Improver. "Really, you are not very flattering! I go upon the notion that there is a fool born every day, and if I can get but one year's crop into my net, the hundred thousand is secure. They won't find out that it is to be a crowded town till it is pretty well built, and then I needn't care".

Editor. "I came to see your lots, induced by your flaming advertisement; you did not know I thought of becoming a purchaser! A glance at your map was discouragement enough; your unblushing avowal of your selfish purposes is apparent on the face of your plan; so, taking no advantage of your declarations, let me point out to you where you are wrong. In the first place, this broad continent is large enough to give every householder at least room and verge enough for a kitchen garden, and a place, besides, for his children to play in, without always resorting to the strects. I can see do reason why you should pocket an hundred thousand dollars from the earnings of others, when they can as readily make their own purchases on the line of the same railroad,"

Improver. "I beg your pardon; this is the nearest land to the city that can be bought in this way. Besides, yon see I have left lots for a church and a public square".

Editor. "A public square! Why, truly, it is a square; but it is not large enough to pasture a single cow, much less to serve as a healthful promenade for a closely packed public. Ton should have left acres instead of feet, laid it out tastefully, and planted it with a great variety of the best and most beautiful trees".

Improver. "Ah yes! you don't catch me paying out cash for such things as those I I have enough to do to persuade people of the advantages I offer. I have an office in town for this purpose, and advertise in all the papers".

Editor. "Advantages! Ton mean to say, you design to. take advantage of your purchasers 1 Now, this is all wrong. Shall I tell you what you ought to do? It is not too late, and if you will follow my advice, you may dispense with your office in town, and the people will come to you".

Improver. "Ah! I wish you could bring that about".

Editor. "Nothing easier. There is an appreciation of beauty underlying all the rough natures and busy merchants, which, if once awakened, is sure to respond to a good leadership. The ladies, too i Why surely you can have few advocates for your plans among those best portions of the creation. And, without the ladies' approbation, depend upon it, you can accomplish nothing. What you want is, first, to burn your map; get a surveyor and a landscape gardener (a real one, I mean) to layout your farms according to some well-established principles. Don't think of levelling that knoll! It would be preposterous".

Improver. "Excuse me! how should we fill up that ravine?"

Editor. "There is no occasion to fill up that ravine; to do so you would be obliged to throw an arch over the whole of that beautiful stream of water, and bury one of your best resources for beautiful results. You must build a strong, sound dam, and create a lake".

Improver. "A lake! O dear! who would ever buy water lots?"

Editor. "Keep them, then, yourself, and agree, when you have disposed of one hundred lots, to present the lake to the residents. Place suitable trees around it; border with shrubbery and an intricate walk; place, if you find it will answer, a small island in your lake; plant a rustic bridge to it, and fill it with the choicest shrubs and flowers. Let every purchaser have a key to the whole, and my word for it, you will get more for your whole plot, if your other improvements correspond, than for your abominable city lots, with the old arrangement of alleys in the rear".

Improver. "And pray, what would be the other corresponding improvements J I begin to comprehend you".

Editor. "Nothing more palpable. Plant out your boundaries judiciously, say with Norway firs, to be kept down, after a few years, by cutting off the leaders; make a properly curved drive through the place, which shall approach in its gentle sweeps every acre or half-acre of the park! Yes, a park, for the residence of reasonable human beings, who have enough of city when they are obliged to go to it for shopping. Let every plot be in itself a rural home, so contrived that its owner can pluck his own fruit, keep his own pony phaeton, if he pleases, and look oat of his windows without seeing brick houses".

Parks Versus Villages 110053Parks Versus Villages 110054

Improver. "I never thought of this. I will make a little calculation, and see if it will pay"

Editor. "It will surely pay, and you will be remembered as one of the choice spirits of your age, instead of being - nobody!"

Parks Versus Villages #1

An accurate specimen of the taste and "designs" of these suburban yilla speculators, who seek to cram honest, well-meaning city people into their contemptible seven-by-nine lots, called "sites for country residences," such as we see dally advertised in the newspapers. And a great many of these city folks are just soft enough to be duped by the sharpers 1 Why, in the name of wholesome air and sunshine, don't city people, who, with their families, want to spend their summers in the country, go out and find some quiet nook, or open spot of some acres, according to their wants, within striking distance of a railway or steamboat landing, away from the vulgar noise of a daily bread-wagon, milk-cart, or other town nuisance? There they can build themselves a quiet snuggery, with its cozy group of out-buildings among the trees, or under the rocks, or near a brook or river, and, for a few months of the year, withdraw from the cares of a vexatious world; look out at the heavens by day, so gloriously lighted up with the sun, and garnished with floating clouds; or at the moon, with its vast retinue of brilliant stars, by night; upon the earth, with its emerald of green, shadowed over with waving trees, or spangled with flowers giving out their delicious odors; and the happy birds, filling the whole air with music; ay, and the soul who has no sympathy with these, one and all, has no business in the country at all I

Thousands of such spots are within a few miles of all northern cities, both cheap and accessible. But, no. Such mode of summer life is not the fashion! Town folks must, when summer comes, pack up their finery, and fizzle off behind a vulgar steam-engine, of some sort, to some watering-place, where they vapor about for weeks in the daily pursuit of some nonsense or other; or, if not that, must have a country villa in some starched-up, maccaroni village, or neighborhood, populated; for the most part, with just such flunkies as themselves, Where driving equipages by day, and dressing matches by night, and other like vanities, are the standing order. The "wimmin folks" must have "society," of course, to admire their finery; and the men, their dinner parties and wine drinkings, as if their eight or nine months of annual city life, in that sort of indulgence, could not cut short their lives fast enough. But, being too old-fashioned in my notions to set this wayward world right-end-up, I must even take a shot at folly as it flies, and let the folks drive their own "road to ruin".