The new Northwest. [volume] (Portland, Or.) 1871-1887, 1873-11-28
By EUGENE J. HALL

By EUGENE J. HALL
From the harvest-held, old Farmer Brown
came home with look OF care;
He threw his hat on the floor, and sat down in
his own spllnt-boitoned chair;
He wiped the sweat from his dripping brow.
and pulled ont his old Jaek-knlfe;
He whiuled away 10 himself awhile. and called
20 his little wifi.
From her quaint and tidy kitchen she came
through the open door,
With her sleeves pinned mp TO her shoulders
and her skirt pinned mp before.
She looked as faded, wrinkled and worn as the
folds OF her ginghain gown,
When she saw the haggard and hopeless look
on the face Of Farmer Brown.
Then down In her rocking-chalr she sank In a
sort OF a helpless way,
Nor spoke one word, but listened and looked
10 hear what he might say.
Hannah, I'm sick a-livin' here, and a-worlsln,
from spring 10 fall,
A-raisin' 'taters am corn 10 sell. that don't
bring nothu' az all
Here we have worked together, for forty years,
like pair OF slaves,
An that old mortgage ainr lifted yet, that !
owe 10 Gideon Graves.
That Judgment note o. Deacon Dunn's will soon
be falln' due,
An where the moneys comln' from. why. I
can't tell, nor you
Pm kept in sech worry an fret BY all o, these
sort o. things,
That have 20 sell the stun that raise right off
for what IL brings
il costs 50 much for my taxes now, an 10 keep
the wolfaway,
That I haven't no chance 10 make a cent. an
that is what's TO pay.
Hannah we've both on us grown Old, an our
children all are gone;
There is no one now that 6, len at home for us
10 depend upon.
IRin't as strong as used 10 be, nor as able to
work, know,
But I've got 10 set them matters square, an the
iarm'll have 10 go.
'Halro' the world lives idle, with plenty TO eat
and wear,
An the ones who work the hardest have often
the least 20 spare.
The farmers work tin their forms are bent, an,
their hands are hard an brown;
The workmen delve in the dust an smoke o.
the workshops in The town:
The sturdy sailors bring 10 our shores the
wealth o. foreign lands;
An the other half o. the world subssts by the
work o. these hardened hands
An this is one o. the reasons why can't pay
what I owe,
While You an are a-gettin' old, and the
farm'll have TO go.
"I've worked in the woods in the winter time;
I've plowed am sowed in the spring;
Pve hoed an dug through summer am IAN, an
haven't made a thing.
Sometimes lie awake all night, an worry an
fuss an fret,
An never a single wink o. sleep nor bit o.
rest 7 get.
think O. our grown-up children, an the life
life they've just begun;
They've got 10 hoe the same hard row as you
an have done.
think O the politicians, an the way they rob
an steal,
An the more think o. farmin', the poorer ii
makes me feel.
The spectators buy up our cheese, our butter,
our wool an hay,
An they sell 'en ag'ln for more'n twice as much
as they had 10 pay.
They bleed as in transportation; they fleece us
everywhere;
They cheat us on our provisions an the very
clothes we wear.
They live in their lofty houses, on the best that
can be found;
Their wives wear dazzlin' diamonds, an theli
children loaf around
In the summer they go 10 the seashore an the
springs, 10 make a show,
An that is the way our butter and cheese, an
our corn an 'taters go.
ave work in the sun all summer, raise turnipl
an corn on shares,
That the railroads an politicians may cheat NJ
an put on airs.
They carry the reins o. power, an viii Til W,
nh our graves;
They rule an ruin the markets, an we are
pack o. slaves.
What's 10 be doneo God only knows. Nv,
failed in many ways
In trying 10 lay a leetle by 10 ease my decllnin
days
never have been shinleSs man; I've hggered
l've worked an tried,
While the old farm's been running down sine,
the day that father died.
I've borrowed money 10 pay my debts, an I'y,
watched the Interest grow,
TIN 1t fairly got the start o. me. an the farmu
have 10 60"
Then the little wife OF Farmer Brown stood M
upon the floor,
And she looked at him in kind OF way tina
she never had before.
The furrows fled from her shriveled cheeks. An,
her face grew all aglow;
81 never viii sign the deed, John, and the farm
shall never go.
There's jest one thing 10 be done, as sure as yo
an I are born:
You must join the Grange an vote, John,
you would sell your corn.
Hope an prayer are good, John, for the ma
who digs and delves,
But heaven will never help us, John, unless "
help ourselves.
ain'i as clipper am smart an spry, nor
strong as used 10 be,
But I've got heap o. spuuk, John, when i
started mp In me-"
over the old mans furrowed face the tears d
gan 70 flow;
He never had felt more strong and proud sin
their wedding long ago;
A golden gleam Of heavenly hope illumin'
his souls despair,
Aud kneeling down on the time-worn foe
both bowed their heads in prayer.
WOMAN'S RIGHTS IN RUsSIA.-Won
ans Rights are extending even to Rui
sia. Formerly their sole public en-
,,tovn,snf xras I ha syynaufnrr of tho II ron