er reckon the cost of the straw
nor the labor of the man who attends to the pony. Ours did all the
"jobs" about the place--cleaned the knives and shoes, milked the cows,
fed the pigs and poultry, helped in the gardens, and, in short, made
himself "generally useful." Now, a servant who is able and willing to
do all this, besides properly attending to a pony and carriage, is
very difficult to be met with, but he is absolutely necessary for a
place in the country where economy has to be studied.

Something must be allowed yearly for the wear and tear of carriage,
harness, etc., but it need not be much. Any gentleman can easily
calculate the sum which may fairly be allowed for these items; I only
think it my part to show the expense attending a pony in the country;
and though those who have been in the habit of keeping horses in
London, either in a livery or private stable, may think it impossible
to maintain one for $52.57 yearly, let them leave town for a four-acre
farm, and they will find that I have spoken the truth on this point,
as well as on all the other subjects of which I have given my
experience in this little volume.

CHAPTER XVI.

CONCLUSION.

It is with considerable diffidence the writer ventures to give the
public this slight sketch of her experience in farming four acres of
land.

When she finally resolved to fix her residence in the country, she was
wholly ignorant how she ought to manage, so that the small quantity of
land she rented might, if not a source of profit, be at least no loss.

She was told by a friend, who for a short time had tried "a little
place" at Chiselhurst, that it was very possible to lose a
considerable sum yearly by under taking to farm a very small quantity
of land. "Be quite sure," said the friendly adviser--"and remember, I
speak from experience--that whatever animals you may keep, the expense
attending them will be treble the value of the produce you receive.
Your cows will die, or, for want of being properly looked after, will
soon cease to give any milk; your pigs will cost you more for food
than will buy the pork four times over; your chickens and ducks will
stray away, or be stolen; your garden-produce will, if worth anything,
find its way to Covent Garden; and each quarter your bills from the
seedsman and miller will amount to as much as would supply you with
meat, bread, milk, butter, eggs, and poultry, in London."

Certainly this was rather a black state of thin