{"id":"01KG6GMJGBBSXC6K1X71FFFTRE","cid":"bafkreicql2vok377xdalg4rw6jb74rtrivxieusboxyh72tjglbwxgs4nm","type":"chunk","properties":{"end_line":6015,"extracted_at":"2026-01-30T03:55:03.883Z","extracted_by":"structure-extraction-lambda","label":"Chunk 1","source_file":"01KG6FXSCNX5F3D880P3YP3PKR","start_line":5936,"text":"                           POOR MAN’S PUDDING\r\n\r\n‘You see,’ said poet Blandmour enthusiastically--as some forty years ago\r\nwe walked along the road in a soft, moist snowfall toward the end of\r\nMarch--‘you see, my friend, that the blessed almoner, Nature, is in all\r\nthings beneficent; and not only so, but considerate in her charities, as\r\nany discreet human philanthropist might be. This snow, now, which seems\r\nso unseasonable, is in fact just what a poor husbandman needs. Rightly\r\nis this soft March snow, falling just before seed-time, rightly is it\r\ncalled “Poor Man’s Manure.” Distilling from kind heaven upon the soil,\r\nby a gentle penetration it nourishes every clod, ridge, and furrow. To\r\nthe poor farmer it is as good as the rich farmer’s farm-yard\r\nenrichments. And the poor man has no trouble to spread it, while the\r\nrich man has to spread his.’\r\n\r\n‘Perhaps so,’ said I, without equal enthusiasm, brushing some of the\r\ndamp flakes from my chest. ‘It may be as you say, dear Blandmour. But\r\ntell me, how is it that the wind drives yonder drifts of “Poor Man’s\r\nManure” off poor Coulter’s two-acre patch here, and piles it up yonder\r\non rich Squire Teamster’s twenty-acre field?’\r\n\r\n‘Ah! to be sure--yes--well; Coulter’s field, I suppose, is sufficiently\r\nmoist without further moistenings. Enough is as good as a feast, you\r\nknow.’\r\n\r\n‘Yes,’ replied I, ‘of this sort of damp fare,’ shaking another shower of\r\nthe damp flakes from my person. ‘But tell me, this warm spring snow may\r\nanswer very well, as you say; but how is it with the cold snows of the\r\nlong, long winters here?’\r\n\r\n‘Why, do you not remember the words of the Psalmist?--“The Lord giveth\r\nsnow like wool”; meaning not only that snow is white as wool, but warm,\r\ntoo, as wool. For the only reason, as I take it, that wool is\r\ncomfortable, is because air is entangled, and therefore warmed among its\r\nfibres. Just so, then, take the temperature of a December field when\r\ncovered with this snow-fleece, and you will no doubt find it several\r\ndegrees above that of the air. So, you see, the winter’s snow _itself_\r\nis beneficent; under the pretence of frost--a sort of gruff\r\nphilanthropist--actually warming the earth, which afterward is to be\r\nfertilisingly moistened by these gentle flakes of March.’\r\n\r\n‘I like to hear you talk, dear Blandmour; and, guided by your benevolent\r\nheart, can only wish to poor Coulter plenty of this “Poor Man’s\r\nManure.”’\r\n\r\n‘But that is not all,’ said Blandmour eagerly. ‘Did you never hear of\r\nthe “Poor Man’s Eye-water”?’\r\n\r\n‘Never.’\r\n\r\n‘Take this soft March snow, melt it, and bottle it. It keeps pure as\r\nalcohol. The very best thing in the world for weak eyes. I have a whole\r\ndemijohn of it myself. But the poorest man, afflicted in his eyes, can\r\nfreely help himself to this same all-bountiful remedy. Now, what a kind\r\nprovision is that!’\r\n\r\n‘Then “Poor Man’s Manure” is “Poor Man’s Eye-water” too?’\r\n\r\n‘Exactly. And what could be more economically contrived? One thing\r\nanswering two ends--ends so very distinct.’\r\n\r\n‘Very distinct, indeed.’\r\n\r\n‘Ah! that is your way. Making sport of earnest. But never mind. We have\r\nbeen talking of snow; but common rain-water--such as falls all the year\r\nround--is still more kindly. Not to speak of its known fertilising\r\nquality as to fields, consider it in one of its minor lights. Pray, did\r\nyou ever hear of a “Poor Man’s Egg”?’\r\n\r\n‘Never. What is that, now?’\r\n\r\n‘Why, in making some culinary preparations of meal and flour, where eggs\r\nare recommended in the receipt-book, a substitute for the eggs may be\r\nhad in a cup of cold rain-water, which acts as leaven. And so a cup of\r\ncold rain-water thus used is called by housewives a “Poor Man’s Egg.”\r\nAnd many rich men’s housekeepers sometimes use it.’\r\n\r\n‘But only when they are out of hen’s eggs, I presume, dear Blandmour.\r\nBut your talk is--I sincerely say it--most agreeable to me. Talk on.’\r\n\r","title":"Chunk 1"},"relationships":[{"peer":"01KG6GKXW75HFSDG7XY8DT06R3","peer_type":"section","predicate":"in"},{"peer":"01KG6FXSCNX5F3D880P3YP3PKR","peer_type":"file","predicate":"extractedFrom"},{"peer":"01KG2T49K0H5GDRB0G4YDTPG8H","peer_type":"collection","predicate":"collection"},{"peer":"01KG6GMJGGMF525W316PV122N4","peer_type":"chunk","predicate":"next"}],"ver":2,"created_at":"2026-01-30T03:55:04.075Z","ts":"2026-01-30T03:55:17.668Z","edited_by":{"method":"manual","user_id":"01KFF0H3YRP9ZSM033AM0QJ47H"}}