Mineral Point tribune. (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1869-1938, 1873-09-18

| was fond of Mrs Butterworth. and two
weeks In spring, when strawberries began
to rlpen, and the air was sweet with the
breath OF flowers, were devoted every sea-
son to visiting her. | always put off my
house-cleaning till that time, for Maggie
could get along so much better when we
were gone, and it was so nice to get out
Of the clutter. l liked to spend the hot
test part OF the summer there, too The
perfume of new mown hay is always
sweet to me, especially in the country,
where one does not have to pay for it.
Mrs. Butterworth had other city friends,
who, like myself, used 10 90 out into the
country and rest. You don't know how
refreshing it was to us. We used to tell
her so when we could get a sight of her
face, for as we were always planning pic
mic excursions, sailing parties, or ramb-
ing through the fine old orchard and
garden, while she, dear SOUL YVES busy
baking and brewing, from long before we
were up, till long after we were in bed, Of
course we could not see her as much as
we wished. Housework seemed to be her
! forte. 1t did astonish one to see how at
tached to 1t she was | used to say to
her, III ever | live in the country | mean
to enjoy lite. One can live SO easy here
Nothing to buy, for everything grows
here. Cows are waiting to be MIXED /;
one has plenty of cream and butter,
chickens are cOaXing to be fried, eggs lie
all around loose and everything grows
spontaneously"
Mrs. Butterworth smiled dreary smile
and said: IF it is ever your lot to live
in the country you will see things in a
different light, and you will find that all
these things require a great deal of care.
! True, everything grows but il takes a
great deal ofpreparation before the ground
isready for the seed, and then it is work,
and care all the way along. Hoeing,
wedding, pruning and finally gathering,
in fact it is all work, until ready for
the table"
To return to my story. Now all my an
| ticipations of rest, country shade, eggs
and early vegetables had vanished, and
| looking out Of my window, | saw nothing
but the wooden sidewalks and dusty
streets. [ have no doubt that my disap-
polntment had as much to do with nv
unamiable mood as the loss of my butter,
though l did not express it. | felt as if.
somehow, | had been abused What right
had she to change her location and leave
me and my precious children destitute of
a resort from the cares and trials incident
to a city life?
George" | said, as lie came in to sup
per, =" have hit upon plan. Let us 90
out and live on Mrs. Butterworth's farm
this summer. It's for rent, she told me
SO this morning"
What an idea, Live upon farm. I
guess so.
Why not? Rent our house to Mrs.
Livingstone. She has no children, and
viii take good care of the rooms. Just
say you viii to please me. We can live
cheaper, you know. Why, we can live
for nOthing-absolutely nothing! Be
sides" / continued, you can come in
on in the cars in the morning, and 90
out in the evening So you will suffer
no Inconvenience. And III make my
| own butter too, every pound of it."
Il don't know anything about farm
| ing" said George, "but | suppose it's
easy to learn, and l could get good man
to come and do the work | think it
might be a good idea"
So we began to plan. We would have
the flower beds enlarged, for Mrs B. had
scarce enough to keep her visitors in
bouquets, and | had sometimes imagined
She used to begrudge the dear children
the luxury of plucking her roses and tu-
lips, and tearing them to pieces, though
She must have known how much ii
amused them, Yes, we would have it all
\ to ourselves now, and the little dears
! should enjoy it too, and no thanks to any
/ body.
After the children had all gone to bed
/ for our house was never quiet till that
/ time came, we sat down and talked away
! into the small hours, and then retired our
! selves.
/ Morning came at last, and George
/ sprang ont Of bed, shouting, "Hurrah foI
| the country, with its pigs and chickens
and luscious fruits swimming in bowls OF
cream. HEurrah for the country, | say
/ Homemade butter and Il dollar a day. y
/ To the farm we went. 1t was rainy
/ day when we moved, but as our house
was let, we had to 90 when the time
was up. ] did not know much about
packing, and did not begin that business
till morning, so it was late in the day be.
fore we got started, and the coming fami-
ly was moving in long before we left. i
ludicrOus picture we made, when once
I slowed away on the top of pile of bed
ding, baby III my lap, the other two beside
me, and George holding a mammoth UNI
Nye'ia over US. How it did drizZe, driz-
/ Zic! We were all pretty well soaked by
1 the time we reached the farm; but George
( tried to cheer us with visions of warm
/ FIRE, tor had ne not taken the precaution
( 10 pay boy he met on the street the day
/ before, to have the fires made before we
arrived, and the teakettle which was sent
( out with some provisions the day before
/ boiling? Alas, what was our dismay to
( find not only no fire but that all the cook
ed eatables had disappeared The house
/ was as cold rs a barn and damp enough
/ to give any one the blues Everything
/ was drippingly, drizzlingly wet
/ Never mind" said George, "we will
! have a fire soon Where are the
/ matches?'
/ Where were the matches, sure enough
/ Nobody knew; and after hunting long
and Intellectually, George went to neigh
I bor's to borrow some. In half an hour
/ he was back again, but rs everything was
| damp it was a long time before the fire
| consented to burn; but at length the house
grew warm, and fishing out some tea,
! bread and prunells we had brought with
Us, we made quite comfortable supper,
and then prepared to set up a bedstead
4 damp mattress was thrown upon it,
and damp pillow, sheets and cover fol
/ lowed How ! wished myself back
again in my own little cottage.
! In the morning what confusion was be
/ fore me. Baby was sick, the two older
! children hoarSe, and | felt as If | had
! been beaten Nv flesh was sore, and not