Green-Mountain freeman. [volume] (Montpelier, Vt.) 1844-1884, 1859-05-12
The Poetry Of Work.

What pleasure it is to see anything
perfectly done. never 60 "shopping' that
[ do not look on with admiration while the
storekeeper so deity does up my parcels |
believe no acoman who has not acquired the
professional shopkeeping teuch, can do this
decently. | like, too, to watch group of
men painting house, provided the platform
upon which they stand is SO strong that my
blood does not curdle lest their merry song
should never be finished, With what dex.
ferrous, careful, delicate touch they brighten
up the unsi Chilly wall there is fascination to
the looker-on in their skillfu progress.
Carpentering, too, like; what pretty silky
cured shavings they plane off; how many
times when child placed them on my head
for ringlets, have | mentally resolved to be
carpenters wife, that I might always have
plenty. How sure the stroke of their ham
mer upon the nail which woman would,
bend. or break in pieces, beside jamming her
fingers to jelly. Mark he sturdy porter
too, as he tosses a huge Saratoga trunk"
lightly as feather upon his back, and pos-
ing it, marches up uncountcd stairs without
tripping or humping.
| like t. see strong man holding fiery
horse by slight rein and strong will. |
like to see the oarsman IN his red shirt
sleeves, pulling away over the sparkling
water like to see the rough, red-faced
ON .ibus driver making change, hating, ges-
ticulatine, halIooing 10 passers-by, all in the
same breath. like anything that is wide
awake aud efficient, and ii it be beautiful at
the same time, so much the better. | like
to see the cook toss eggs into foam so nice
ly, with head turned the other way, watching
pots, skillcts and frying-pans, and at the
same time giving orders to halfa dozen subor-
bon into thousand funciful shapes while
talking, or selecting rose from one box, a
green spray from another, then a spear Of
wheat a daisy and poppy, Irvine them
together with an artists taste and touch.
like to see the dress makers fit the glossy silk
to the curves of limbs as soft as the silky
fabric. like to see the flushed pressmar
sliding the damp newspapers from the form
without flaw or wrinkle. | like to SCI
a mother strip her little tender babe, anc
battle its fragile limbs with that wonderful
deicacy of touch which mothers only know
singing, carcssing, patting and soothing. til
the lovely task is done. like to SEQ thos,
little imps of newsboys running indiscrimin
ately between the legs of man and beast, yell
ing out their precocious wisdom about "ac
cidents and arrival" dodging under carts
and coming out safe in wind and limb; thri
wing in spite Of dirt and rags, turn Up, somc
day, ten to one, in big marble store VI
town, as bookseller or publisher
[ am not at all sure, now that blessed
, chloroform is discovered by which my faitl
!. in the predicted millennium has had mos
quickening (why don't they build statu,
to the discoverer p that could not look OF
f admiringly while the surgeons knife woun,
amid veins and arteries with almost omni
potent skill, his patient lying calm as sleep
ing infant the while.
q And now the thought comes over me witt
overwhelming force, how strange that we
who SO adore strength, power, beauty anc
perfection, should be content with its circum
, scribed human progress; never look for it
never worship it, where 1t is limtless, I'm
changeablc, unfettered by scfshness, capric
or injustice. Alas till we learn this, W
SHALL vinc'like, throw out our tendris to tn
mercy of every passing breeze, with nothin
: sure to Irvine around or cling to.
FANNY FERN.