St. Landry democrat., 1878-09-28
FARM LIFE.
Its Practical and Its Sentimental SIDES

Its Practical and Its Sentimental SIDES.
Poets have sung the delights of the
farmers life in strains so enchanting that
one might wonder why all the world has
not forsaken every other pursuit and be-
taken itself to the tilIing of the soil. But
the farmer himself, in the unshaded hay.
field, or plodding in the c|ayey-furrow
at the tail of his pIow, with treeho der's
right sticking to each boot, Or bending
with aching back, between the corn rows
or breasting the winters storms in the
performance Of imperative duties, looks
at his life from a different point of view.
To him this life appears as full Of toll and
care and evil chances as that cf any
other toiler. And true it is, the lite of
any other toiler. And true it is, the life
OF all ordinary farmer is hard, with too
little to soften it-too much of work,
too little Of play. But as true is what
the poet sang so long ago: Thrice
happy are the husbandmen if they
could but see their bless~
ings," for they have independence more
than any Others who by the sweat OF the
brow earn their bread, and the free air
OF heaven to breathe, and the blessed
privilege of daily communion with na>
| ture.
1t is not easy for the farmer TO see any
beauty in his enemies-the meadows full
of daisies, with which he is forever fight.
ing, or by which he has been ignomin-
ious]y conquered; the encroachiDs ranks
of golden rods along the borders of his
fields. and the bristling bayonets of those
Canadian invaders, the thistles. How
few farmers, or other people for that
matter, see in the climbing bushes of
the dawning day, or the gorgeous painting
of its close, or 10 the perfect day itself,
anything but the foretelling of lair or
foul weather. or notice the ways of any
untamed bird or beast, except that the
crows come to pull the corn, the hawks
to catch the chickens and the foxes tC
catch the lambs and turkeys? How
ever, the farmer generally does feel s
thrill of pleasure when, in the hazy soft
ness of February or March day, he
hears the cav of the first carrion>seekine
hungry crow. "The heart of winter il
broke" In April when the fields begi
to show suspicion of coming green anc
give forth an oder of spring, and the
dingy snow banks along the fences ar
daily dwindIing, he welcomes the caro-
of the bluebird, and is glad to hear the
robin utter his restless note from the
boughs OF the old apple-tree, and th'
clear voice of the new come meadow
lark strikes him as not altogether un
musical and when he hears the plaintivt
cry of the grass pover he is sure The
spring has come, aud thinks of the small
birds no more till the first blasts 0
returning winter sweep over the bar
trees and frozen fields, when, all at once
he becomes aware that the troubadours
are gone. He see that the brave littl'
chickadee remains faithful to his post
and feels that his CHEEKY note enlivens 1
little the drearines of winter, as doe
the reedy piping OF the nuthatch anc
the voice OF the dowry, fuller of lie thar
of music, and the die ordant note of th'
blue Jay, wlv, clad in bit of summe
SKY, loudly proclaims his presence; bu
the singers are gone, and he misses them
III Scribner, for August.