* • • • • "Mug of ale! - aye, that's it! Mug of ale! - Pill up! Fill up! and the toast shall be "Merrie England! Hurrah!"

Another very perfect sketch of an English rural landscape, the squire's house, the conversation of the working class, and a bit of information for the farmer worked in, is the following morning stroll, after sleeping at the Tillage Inn:

"I dressed, and worked my way through the dark, crooked stairs to the kitchen, where on a bright steel fender, I found my shoes dry and polished. I walked through the single short street of the hamlet. The houses were set closely together, with neat little gardens about them. They were of every age; one I noticed marked with the date 1630 - about the time of the first settlement in Connecticut. It was of stone, narrow, with a steep roof covered with very small slates; the windows much wider than high, and filled with little panes of glass set in strips of lead. Except in this, and the materials of which it was built, it was not unlike some of the oldest houses that we yet see in our first Puritan villages, as Hadley and Wethersfield.

"A blackbird hopped before me, but did not whistle, and plenty of little birds were chirping on the walls and rose-bushes, but there was nothing like the singing we have at home of a spring morning. At the other end of the village was another inn - " The Blue Lion," I believe, and a tall hostler opening the stable doors, was dressed just as I wanted to see him - jockey-cap, long striped waiscoat, breeches and boots.

"As I returned, I saw the farmer that had been at the inn the night before, and asked him to let me see his cows. He said they were coming down the lane, and if I went with him I should meet them. Passing a group of well-built, neat, low buildings, he said they were the squire's kennels. They were intended for greyhounds, but he had pointers in them now.

"The squire's! But where's the squire's house?"

"Ton's the hall," pointing to a distant group of trees, above which a light smoke was rising straight up in the calm air, and a number of large black birds were rapidly rising and falling. " Ton's the hall; ye see the rooks".

"The rooks! Then those are rooks, are they?"

"Ay, be they - rooks - do ye not know what rooks be?"

"Tes, but we don't have them in America".

"No! not have rooks? They be main good in a pie, sir".

"We met the cows, of which there were about a dozen, driven by a boy towards the farm-house. Any one of them would have been considered remarkably fine in America. They were large and in good order; with soft, sleek skin, and like every cow I have seen in England, look as if they had just been polished up for exhibition. He could tell nothing of their breed, except of one, a handsome heifer, which he said came partly of Welsh stock. He took me across a field or two to look at a few cows of the squire's. They were finer than any of his, and seemed to be grade short-horns.

"The cows were driven into hovels, which he called shippens, and fastened at their mangers by a chain and ring sliding on an upright post (the latest fashion with us,) eight of them in an apartment, standing back to back. Three or four of his daughters came out to milk - very good looking, modest young women, dressed in long, loose, grey, homespun gowns. They had those high wooden tubs to milk in that we see in the old pictures of sentimental milkmaids. It seems constantly like dreaming, to see so many of these things that we have only known before in poetry or painting.

"The dairy-house and all the farm buildings were of brick, interworked with beams of wood, and thatched. They were very small, the farm being only of fifty acres, and the hay and grain always kept in stacks. The arrangements for saving manure were poor - much the same as on any tolerably good farm with us - a hollowed yard, with a pool of liquid on one side. He bought some dung and bones in Liverpool, but not much. He esteemed bones most highly, and said they did immense good hereabout. They made a sweeter, stronger, and more permanent pasture. Where he had applied them twelve years ago, at the rate of a ton to an acre, he could see their effects yet. He took me into an adjoining field, which, he said, was one of the best pastures in the village. It had been ploughed in narrow lands, and the ridges left high, when it was laid down. The sward was thicker, better bottomed, than any I ever saw in America. He sowed about a bushel . of grass seeds to the acre, seeding down with oats. For cheese pasture, he valued white clover more than anything else, and had judged, from the taste of American cheese, that we did not have it. For meadows to be mowed for hay, he preferred sainfoin and ray-grass. He had lately underdrained some of his lowest land with good effect.

His soil is mostly a stiff clay resting on a ledge of rocks".

Our agricultural readers, particularly those in grazing districts, will be especially interested in the following more detailed account of the use of bone manure on pasture lands, and the more, now that the beds of native phosphate of lime, discovered in New-Jersey and New-York, bid fair to give us a supply of this fertilizer at a rate that will enable us to use it profitably:

"The farms in the country over which we walked in Cheshire, were generally small, less, I should think, than one hundred acres. Frequently the farmer's family supplied all the labor upon them, - himself and his sons in the field, and his wife and daughters in the dairy - except that in the harvest month, one or two Irish reapers would be employed. The cows, in the summer, are kept during the day in distant pastures, and always at night in a home lot. During the cheese making season, which on these small farms is from the first of May till November, they are driven home and fastened in shippens, or sheds, between five and six o'clock, morning and night, and then milked by the girls, sometimes assisted by the men. On a farm of one hundred acres, fifteen to twenty cows are kept, and three persons are about an hour in milking them. From twenty to thirty gallons of milk, (say six quarts from each cow,) is expected to be obtained on an average, and about one pound of dried cheese from a gallon of milk. From two to five cwt. (of 112 lbs.) of cheese, may be made from the milk of each cow during the year. Three cwt. is thought a fair return on the best farms.