Vermont farmer. [volume] (Newport, Orleans County, Vt.) 1870-1877, 1875-03-12
For the VERMONT FARMER,
Recollections Of Farm Life.
Chapter III. A Field.

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mowers the metallic ring of the upright
scythe under the laborer's milestone then
the shouts Of teamsters, guiding the patient
team from bundle to bundle Of the sweet hay
or grain all this commiugliug with those
bursts Of delight, always attendant upon the
presence of the sporting children, whom the
tired mother has entrusted to their fathers
care during the long interim between-meals,
isa joyous, busy scene, too lively for just
delneation with the pencil, too varied and
colored for words.
1t is morning Of hurried day in summer.
Long before the time Of breakfast the anx.
ious farmer aud his ready men are working
in the outhouscs, grinding scythes and NOW
er-kuives, putting the horses into hall-har-
ness, repairing tools, &c. Now they troop
into the kitchen and "take turns at the
wash.basin, while the sun grows hotter, and
the impatient farmer bespeaks breakfast At
last it is ready and,-having made up my
miud to attend the scene of operations that
day., too, am in my place at the table,
which was such an unusual occurrence that
all stand opon.mouthed (not open on account
OF my surprising presence, but to admit the
first relay Of breAkfast), Hardly keeping
pace with the hurried eaters, fnd myself
in danger of being left behind, if do not at
once break of, which operation l tendcrly
performed, and followed the throag in due
time for transportation to the field. Iuto
the dusty hay wagons are thrown pitch
forks, rakes, and scythes; then the dinner,
nicely packed in baskets, is placed carefully
under a rubber blanket, Tor fear that dust or
mud may infect the pure pie-crust or lie in
ambush under the smooth innocence Of the
butter, whiom the insidious foe Of pick
nicers and laborers, and oleaginous harbOr-
er of excruciating particles of misery. Now
the men leap to the racks, seize the reins,
and we are off, The farmer with the now
ing machine follows noisily on. 1t is long
ride, and rough, for the horses are fresh and
the wagon spriugless.
Arrived at the meadow, the teams are un-
hitched and tethered to the broken sides Of
an old barn, while the men grasp their
scythes aud aid, on a smaller scale, the farm
er with his clattering machine. This stage
of affairs is dull and tiresome to me, fer l
can neither swing scythe nor direct NOW.
er. So l wander about with the dog, seek
ing woodchuck-hoes, until the time Of din
ner approaches. o then what delight, to
see the newly arrived coffee and warm pota-
toes, direct from the house in light wagon,
lifted out and arranged upon the tablecloth
Doughnuts, bread, cookies, pickles, butter,
cold meat, etc., etc., are drawn forth from
the large wagon, where they have lain in
reserved deiciousness since morning (give me
credit for forbearance), aud deposited in
picturesque confusion among pots and pans
and scurrying spiders.
Under cool, shady tree in the open air,
combined with the novelty and "make be-
lieve-camping-out" sensation of the thing,
what parallel food of joy accompanies the
lunch.
1t is when the operations a-6ed ripen to
a close, that the boys part and pleasure in
them comes. When corpulent heaps lie lost
to the eye in interlacing rows OF complexity,
and when the mighty growing load drags to
fha taAa la hla-l linz
stretching across each other, like shadows in
a wood, then are the heart and muscle of
the boy called into willing play, the play Of
exertion. What day-long race he, half.
disrobed, has with the monstrous "jag" Of
verdure, uplilted across the sun, and scatter
ing its fresh perfume far and near See
him sweep in methodical circles over the
waste left by the slovenly pitchfork, drag
gng the heavy rake behind him, painting and
sweating, with face as red as the glare of
an open furnace And then what an addi-
tional crimson OF delight and pride rushes
rosily over his hot brow, if, perchance, sly
compliment from brawny superior reaches
his ears That's tough one" or "He'll
do" is as precious and refreshing as a cool
bath of rose-water 70 the sturdy little plOd-
der. A oapful of success to him
Now follows the golden, comparatively
easy harvest, the rich crown Of the years
work:
Sweet time of song gay Autumn comes,
| Laughing among the ripplng gran,-
Reap comrades, reap, and catch her there,-
The trsOs have caught her painted train
Under the soft, misty sunlight, with the
hills dim in too much of glory, aud Nature
fast asleep over all and through all the la
borers silently working amid the peaceful
scene light, cooling breeze caressiDg slope
and vale,-such is our New England har-
vest time.
Waving fields of golden grain,
When the shadOWy breezes run
Ripping races back and forth
Der the food light Of the sun
And tho heavy heads are bent
To and fro before their haste,
Like group OF frightened staEs,
To their mountain fastness chased.
l Then the reapers folloWIslow
In their paths Of fallen grain
Lo golden carpet now
Lies upon the mellow plain
swayng, bending up and down,
| All day long the toers pass
While the trembling air with heat
Seems a stream OF molten glass.
Meanwhile evening descends upon the
busy land then the iaborers desert the
fields, aud ..,.
The goodman brings the cattle home,
The straying cattle home,
The gOodwfe makes tho butter come,
The goldan butlar anna