Eaton weekly Democrat. [volume] (Eaton, Ohio) 1866-1875, 1873-09-11
DID 1T PAY3

Sharply the sickle rings oat through the air,
Cutting the billowy grass fair;
Bright shines the sun on the broad hay lands,
Where wearily toll all the harvest hands;
All day long, with unceasing zeal,
They have driven the sickle and swung the steel
Often and often they glance at the sun,
And often wish that their days work done,
For the heavens all seem like bright, molten brass,
And the ground seems to scorch their feet as they
But to old Farmer John, who leaned 'gainst tn,
It all seemed matter of dollars and cents;
He watched while the mowers fell the rich hay,
And watched till he saw it all hauled away.
And while he stood watching, he reckoned the yield
OF hay he reckoned, when all was done,
Each ton, to count at the lowest rate,
Would bring twelve dollars, sold early or late.
And then he counted each bushel of wheat,
Cleaned from the thrashing of refuse and cheat;
Passed on to the oats, and ran the whole score,
And found he had hundreds of bushels more
And then in fancy, he paid off his hands,,
Gathered his corn, and cleared up his lands,
balanced things we'll for the year to come,
Then said, as he lighted his pipe of clay,
" 1 knew that common sense farming would pay;
My land yields well a any around,
Better stock than mine can nowhere be found;
My farm is in order, each pasture and lot,
Ny fences are 'up,' when 1 am about.
have reapers enough, and harrows, and now,
Just one thing need-tis new Gang plow.'
1t will save, in the end, the wage of a man,
The farmer forgot, when he laid his plans,
The good wife at home, who had stayed his hands,
And in every way had done what she could;
who had starved, and pinched, and slaved herself,
To help him gather his hoard of pelf;
Who had worked, when with fever her hands were
hot
To help him purchase one more "pasture lot"
He forgot to ask, in his thankless greed,
If there not something his wife might need;
He forgot to ask If she had a care,
Or a wish as to how should be spent her share.
That the old farmhouse might be painted again;
He forgot how she'd toiled from year to year,
With the household arrangements all crooked and
Would have fixed things convenient-just the right
way,
And while, in fancy, he drove his new plow,
Thinking how much it would speed his work,
This new Gang Plow," with its new-fangled quirk)
1t never entered his head to buy
A sewing machine for his wife, Fie!
Ass mother hsd sewed with & nsr hands, and she
He wasn't the man who sgim-cracks' would buy,
When money was scarce, and taxes were high"
Time went on all the hay was sold,
The plow was bought, and with money in bank,
With no one to thank though his wife was bowed
With striving to carry her end of the load;
Bowed and wrinkled, and scanned with care,
With many and many silvery hair;
Beauty and youth had slipped away,
In the wearing duties of every day;
TIL Youth, Ambition, and Health were gone.
What to her were broad acres of waving grain,
What to her were the barns with grain piled high
What the finest stock that money could buy7
To give her children the wealth untold,
OF education, position and place,
But these were denied to her very face.
Now, when her boys and girls gone,
And weary and old she was left alone,
She only sighed, at the very best,
To be left little space for rest;
And when, worn out with toll and strife,
The good wife ended her weary life,
The farmer at what fearful cost
He valued the life that now lost.
But unavailing were t1Ars and remorse.
All he would have given his very best horse
To his wife in the house of yore,
But love and the dead return no more.
And hia axxa9 tleq end n of he t0d
There some things better than land or gold.
Than ss the choicest stock nor the finest erainD
So Farmer John thinks, as lonely and gray,
He wonders if Sc 'common-sense farming" does pay.
,-Prdirie Farmer.