and the life of the plants; the first takes place when the corn is from
six to eight inches high, and the second, about the middle of July, or
earlier, when the plants are about a foot and a half high, or from that to
two feet. "Let no one," says Cobbett, "be afraid of their tearing about
the roots of the plants, when they are at this advanced age and height;"
and in encouraging them to pursue the work resolutely and fearlessly, he
tells them of the way in which the Yankee farmer manages the matter, and
digresses, as he loves to digress, into a picture of manners, or an old
recollection.

"Ninety-nine of my readers out of a hundred, and I dare say, nine hundred
and ninety-nine out of a thousand, will shudder at the thought of tearing
about in this manner; thinking that breaking-off, tearing-off, cutting-off
the roots of such large plants, just as they are coming into bloom, must
be a sort of work of destruction. Let them read the book of Mr. Tull; or
let them go and see my friends the Yankees, who generally drive the thing
off to the last moment, especially if they be young enough to have a
'frolic' stand between them and the ploughing of the corn; or if the wife
want the horses to go ten or twenty miles to have a gossip with a
neighbour over a comfortable cup of tea; but they, to do them justice, do
not forget the beef steaks, or the barbecued fowls, on these occasions;
that is to say, a fowl caught up in the yard, scalded in a minute, cleaned
the next, and splitted down the back, and clapped upon the _gridiron_
(favourite implement of mine,) and then upon the table, along with the hot
cakes, the preserved peaches, and the comfortable cup of tea. If a wife
want the horses for this purpose, or for any other, and should continue
too long a time in a visiting or frolicing humour, the poor corn gives
signs of the consequence, by becoming yellow, and sharp-pointed at the
blade. By and by, however, the Yankee comes with his plough; and it would
frighten an English farmer out of his senses to see how he goes on,