en be
found riddled with worm holes and almost gone to dust, while the
remainder of the chest is as sound as the day it was made two or three
hundred years ago.

It is interesting, too, to notice marks of charring on the edge of the
lids of these coffers; it is said that they were caused by placing the
rushlight in that position, the flame just overhanging the edge, to
give time to jump into bed by its light leaving it to be automatically
extinguished on reaching the wood; and that the charring occurred when
sometimes the flame continued to burn a little longer than expected.

Oak is usually felled in the spring when the sap is rising, to allow
of the easier removal of the bark for tanning. It is a pretty sight to
see, amidst the greenery of the standing trees, the stripped and
gleaming trunks and larger limbs stretched upon the ground, with the
neatly piled stacks of bark arranged for the air to draw through and
dry them before removal. This is called "rining" in the New Forest,
and good wages are earned at it by the men employed.

It is perhaps the only timber, with the exception of sweet chestnut,
that is worthy to be used for the roofs of ecclesiastical buildings.
At Badsey, when we removed the roof of the church prior to
restoration, we found the oak timbers on the north side as sound as
when placed there many years further back than living memory could
recall, and of which no record or tradition existed. These timbers
were all used again in the new roof, but those from the south side had
to be discarded, having been much more exposed to driving rain and
daily changes of temperature.

I had a number of oak field-gates made, but as the timber was barely
seasoned, we were afraid shrinkage might take place in the mortises
and tenons, and it was an agreeable surprise to find in a year or two
that nothing of the kind had happened. The mortise hole had apparently
got smaller, and still fitted the shrunken tenon to perfection. Oak
gates will last, if kept occasionally painted, sixty or seventy years
in farm use, and there were gates on my land fully that age and still
quite serviceable.

The acorns from oaks in pastures are a trouble, as cattle are very
fond of them and sometimes gorge themselves to such an extent as to
prove fatal, if allowed unrestricted access to them when really
hungry; but in the New Forest they are welcomed by the commoners
(occupiers of private lands), some of whom possess the right of
"pann