manure to itself.

Still on to the north-east, and a step lower, is a kind of white land,
neither chalk nor clay, neither fit for pasture nor for the plough, yet
kindly for hops, which root deep in the freestone, and have their poles
and wood for charcoal growing just at hand. The white soil produces the
brightest hops.

As the parish still inclines down towards Wolmer Forest, at the juncture
of the clays and sand the soil becomes a wet, sandy loam, remarkable for
timber, and infamous for roads. The oaks of Temple and Black-moor stand
high in the estimation of purveyors, and have furnished much naval
timber; while the trees on the freestone grow large, but are what workmen
call shaky, and so brittle as often to fall to pieces in sawing. Beyond
the sandy loam the soil becomes a hungry, lean sand, till it mingles with
the forest; and will produce little without the assistance of lime and
turnips.

LETTER II.

In the court of Norton farmhouse, a manor farm to the north-west of the
village, on the white malms, stood within these twenty years a
broad-leaved elm, or wych hazel, _ulmus folio latissimo scabro_ of Ray,
which, though it had lost a considerable leading bough in the great storm
in the year 1703, equal to a moderate tree, yet, when felled, contained
eight loads of timber; and, being too bulky for a carriage, was sawn off
at seven feet above the butt, where it measured near eight feet in the
diameter. This elm I mention to show to what a bulk planted elms may
attain; as this tree must certainly have been such from its situation.

In the centre of the village, and near the church, is a square piece of
ground surrounded by houses, and vulgarly called "The Plestor." In the
midst of this spot stood, in old times, a vast oak, with a short squat
body, and huge horizontal arms extending almost to the extremity of the
area. This venerable tree, surrounded with stone steps, and seats above
them, was the delight of old and young, and a place of much resort in
summer evenings; where the former sat in grave debate, while the latter
frolicked and danced before them. Long might it have stood, had not the
amazing tempest in 1703 overturned it at once, to the infinite regret of
the inhabitants, and the vicar, who bestowed several pounds in setting it
in its place again: but all his care could not avail; the tree sprouted
for a time, then withered and died. This oak I mention to show to what a
bulk planted oaks als