Mower County transcript. [volume] (Lansing, Minn.) 1868-1915, 1871-09-28
In the Country.

A WRITER of "Rural Notes" in the
Providence Journal discourses as follows:
Children love the country and are never
80 happy as when reveling in its freedom
and siAp icity. Mamma, however, must
not mind if aprons are soiled, and that
Johnny comes in with sunburnt cheeks,
torn pants. and shoes odorous of the pig
pen or barnyard. The unadu]terated coun.
try is the thing, not a fashionable hotel il
the country.
Here, in this old farmhouse, in pure,
unalloyed farming town, are trio of city
children, waiting to take their turn in
riding old R)llo, whose sobriety, coming
Of years and discretion, for he has seen
about thirty summers, is sufficient to war.
rant the little people mounting and riding
alocg the shady roadside, under the leafy
naples that make grove Of the thorough
fare.
Now it is Johnny's turn, and he be-
strides the steed, and with lofty bearing
he rides out into the yard; thinks his
sped not BETTING his elevated situation,
so starts into trot. He bumps up and
down, his face nearing at every step the
horses neck, and inwardly concludes that
"slow and sure" is the best motto on horse
back.
Now Miss Alice is assisted to the saddle.
This little woman, just in her teens, feels
erect, holds the maple bough riding. stick
very daintily, and rides off in queenly
style on her palfrey, more satisfied than
"lady gaye,' of yore.
Last Of all the wee BARN is strssed up on
the scat Of honor, and held there while
old Rollo solemnly promenades back and
forth as if conscious THAI delicate bit
was intrusted to his broad back. Perhaps
more truly that he prefers this pace to any
friskiness of youthful blood.
The cavalry expedition over, Rollo Is
turned loose in the spacious green that
surrounds the house. He ips at the
sweet briar bushes over the garden fence,
and having . cultivated taste, considers
the propriety of walking through the gar.
den-gate, left open by the thoughtless lit
tie hands, so in he goes to indulge in q
little "garding sarse,' when the voice of
his master, prone among the cucumber
vine, shouts, Ho, Rollo, get out of here!"
The knowing creature pricks up his ears,
and obeys the order with a shake and a
nod, which says 90, didn't know you
were there, SIR"
Then there is fishing in the brook, with
an alder pole and hook made of bent
pin. O, here comes little trout on the
end of the line. I pity his fate, not yet
believing that he likes to be caught, but
such is the lot of fishes, great and small
There goes the wee bairn's foot knee
deep into the brook, so we must HE home
ward at this juncture, too, the dinner. bell
sounds summons not to be slighted at
the farm house.
At dinner our host talks about the rye
field, and "Comin' thro' the rye" is the
music suggested.
The children are clamorous for ride in
the big hay cart down to the rye field, so
all that are not children act as if they
were, and the hay, or rather the rye cart,
drawn by two stout horses, is taken pos
session of by the party. Even the "wee
BARN goes, and down over the bridge we
thump, getting some excellent digestive
shakes and bumps, all productive of
hilarity.
From the rye field, while the cart is be-
ing loaded, the party stray to the river,
skipping stones. A huge rock, a perfect
mosaic after natures rather rough pattern,
furnishes fine theme on which the learn
ed man of the party can discourse to his
eager disciples-while wee Blue Eyes
grows red in the face hurting pebbles into
the fair Connecticut After the lecture all
take to skipping stones and watching the
little fishes.
Back to the rye field; the children climb
on the now loaded cart, and ride home
among the ripened sheaves, bloomy con-
trast to the hoary-headed grain. The
others plod on atter-thinking Of first
the blade, then the ear, then the full corn
in the ear" applied as we'll to human
blossoms as to wheat and corn.
The yellow golden rod mods to us all
along the way, and we stop to gather the
lovely maiden hair ferns TO tWine about
our hats, singing as an apt &C ompani
ment:
'All around my hat wear a weeping willow"
Only three o'clock! Why, days here
are as long as six in the city. The young
people turn to the ever-waiting halls and
nlalets, and the laugh and shout tells of
the freshness of youth and hearts brimful
OF gladness.