The Pulaski citizen. [volume] (Pulaski, Tenn.) 1866-current, 1872-05-16


3as thing in my lay. / had to
.imb.up hill which was covered
with Wild strawberries in the season.
Could aRy boy pass BY those ripe
berries? And then in the fragrant
hjll- pasture there were beds Of win
ter green, with red berries, taGs OF
columbiRe. roots Of sassafras, TO be
dug, and dozens of things good to
cat or to smell, which l could not
resist. It sometimes even lay in my
way to climb a tree, to look for a
crows nest, or to swing in the TOP.
or to see if / could see tie steeple OF
the village church. 1t became very
important sometimes for me to see
the steepie, and in the midst of my
Investigations the tin horn would
blow a great blast from the farm
house which would send Il cold chill
down my back in the hottest davs.
I knew what il meant. IT had a
frightful impatient CULVER in it, not
6 all like the sweet note that called
rs to dinner from the hay field. 1t
said: "Why on earth doesn't that
boy come home? Tt is almost dark
and the COWS amt milkeaf' And
that was the time the COWS had to
start into brisk pace and make up
for the lost time. I wonder if any
boys ever drove the cows home late
who did not say that the cows were
at the furthest end of the pasture,
and that "Old Brmdle was hidden in
the woods and he couldn't find her
for ever so long"
The brindle COW is the boys
scape-goat many time.
No other boy knows how to ap-
preciate a holiday as the farm boy
docs; and his best ones are of a pc
culiar kind. Going fishing Of course
is one sort. The excitement of rig
ging up the tackle, digging the bait,
and the anticipation of great luck
these are pure pleasures enjoyed be
canse they are so rare. BOYS who
can go fishing at any time care but
little for it, Tramping ali day thro
brush and briars, fighting dies and
mosquitoes, and branches tangle the
line, and snags that break the hook,
and returning home late and hun
CRY, with wet feet and a string of
speckleUi trout on a'willOw twig, and
have the family crowd out at the
kitchen door to look at EN- and
say, pretty well done for you, Bub,
did you catch that one yourself?''
This is also pure happiness, the like
Of which the boys will never have
again; not if he comes to be a Sc
lectman and 3 deacon, and to "keep
store"
But the holidays I recall with de-
light were the two days in spring
and fall, when we went to the dis
tant pasture, and in neighbOring
town, may be, to drive thithcr the
young cattle and colts and to bring
them back again. 1t was wild and
rocky upland where our great pas
ture was, many miles from home, the
road running by a brawling river
and up a dashing .brOokside among
great hills. What a days adven-
ture it wasi Ii was like Journey
to Europe. The night before ]
could hardly sleep for thinking of
it; and here was no trouble about
getting me up at sunrise that morn
ing. The breakfast was eaten, the
luncheon Was packed in largs bas-
ket.
wish the journey would never
end; but at last, by noon, we reach
the pasture and turn in the berd,
and after making the tour of the
lots to make sure there are no
breaks in the fences, we take our
luncheon from the wagon and eat it
under the trees by the spring.
This is the supreme moment of the
day. This is the way to live; this
is like the Swiss Family Robinson,
and all the rest of my delightful
acquaintances in romance. Baked
beans, rye and Indian bread (moist,
remember, } doughnuts and cheese.
pies and root beer. What richness! F.!
You may live 10 dine at Dtlmonico's
or at Philippe in the rue Monitor
guell in Paris, where the good old
used to eat as good Q
dinner as anybody, but you will
get there neither doughnuts, nor pie,
nor root beer, nor anything as good
as that luncheon at noon in the
old pasture high among the Massa-
Nor willyOu ever, if You
live to be the oldest boy in the
world, have any holiday equal to
the one l have described. But
have always regretted did not take
a fish line just to ''throw in the
brook we passed. / knew there were
trout "-G. D. Warner IN 50 Work and
I lay, for Jaiy.