rn the theorists, who
during the war have advocated reclaiming the open heaths and moors for
agricultural purposes, against such an ignorant proposition. I suppose
it would cost at least L100 an acre to clear, drain, fence, level,
make roads, and erect the necessary farm buildings, houses and
cottages, with the result that it would command less than L1 per acre
as annual rent; and I should be sorry to be compelled to farm it at
that.

Oaks are somewhat scarce in Worcestershire, and are rarely found in
the Vale of Evesham. I had one remarkably fine specimen in a meadow on
Claybrook, the farm I owned, adjoining the Aldington land. It covered
an area measuring 22 yards by 22 yards = 484 square yards, the tenth
part of an acre. The trunk measured 12 feet in circumference, about 7
feet from the ground. The rule for estimating the age of growing
oak-trees is to calculate 15 years to each inch of radius = 540 years
to a yard, therefore a tree 6 feet in diameter, and about 20 feet
round, including bark and knots, would be just that age. According to
this rule my tree would be not less than 330 years old, which of
course is young for an oak.

The life of this oak was saved in a peculiar way by "a pint of drink,"
and the story was told me by the agent of an old lady, the previous
owner. It had been decided to fell the tree, and two professional
sawyers, who were also "tree-fallers" (fellers), arrived one morning
for the purpose with their axes and cross-cut saw. They surveyed the
prospect and agreeing that it presented a tough job, an adjournment
was arranged to the neighbouring "Royal Oak" for a pint of drink
before commencing operations. Coming back, half an hour later, they
had just stripped and rolled up their shirt sleeves, when the agent
appeared on the road not far off. "Hullo," he shouted, "have you made
a start?" "Just about to begin," replied the head man. "Well then,
don't," said the agent, "the old lady died last night, and I must wait
till the new owners have considered the matter." So the tree was
saved, and curiously enough by its namesake the "Royal Oak." The new
owner spared it, and later when it became my property I did likewise,
for I should have considered it sacrilege to destroy the finest oak in
the neighbourhood. Some years after I had sold the farm I heard that
the tree was blown down in a gale, its enormous head and widespread
branches must have offered immense resistance to the wind, and the
fall of i