Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1878-07-24
NO. 173.
THE PRACTICAL AND SENTIMENTAL SIDES
OF FARM LIFE.

Poets have sung the delights of the
farmers life in strains so enchanting that
one might wonder why all the world has
not torsaken every other pursuit and be-
taken itself to the tiling OF the soil. But
the farmer himself, in the unshaded hay
field, or ploding in the clayey furrow at
the tail of his plow, with a free-holder's
right sticking to each boot, or bending,
with aching back, between the corn-rows,
ol breasing the winter storms in the per-
formance OF imperative duties, looks at
his lite from different point of view. To
him this life appears AS full of toll and
care and evil chances as that of any other
toiler. And true it is, the life of an ordn-
AIRY 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
ii they could but see their blessings" for
they have independence, more than any
others who by the sweat OF the brow earn
their bread, and the pure air of heaven to
breathe. and the blessed privilege of daily
communion with nature.
IL 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 ignomini-
ously conquered; the encroaching 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 mat
ter, see in the climbing bushes OF the
dawning day, or the gorgeous painting Of
its close, or IN the perfect day itself, any
thing but the toretelling of fair or foul
weather; or notice the ways of any un-
tanned bird Oh beast, except that the crows
come to pull the corn, the hawks to catch
the chickens, aud the foxes to steal the
lambs aud turkeys! However, the
farmer generally does feel thrill of pleas
ure when, 10 the hazy soitness of Feb
uary or March day, he hears the cav of
the first carrionseeking, hungry crow.
The heart OF winter is broke" Ia April
when the fields begin to show a suspicion
of coming green and give forth an odor
OF spring, aud the dingy snow-banks
along the fences are daily dwindling,
he welcomes the carol of the first
bluebird, and is glad to hear the
robin utter his restless note from the
bonghs of the old spple-tree; and the
clear voice OF the new-come meadow
lark strikes him rs not altogether I'M
musical and when he hears the plaintive
cry Of the grass-plover he is sure spring
| has come, and then thinks of the small
birds no more till the first blasts of re-
| turning winter sweep over the bare trees
and frozen fields, when, all at once, he
| becomes aware that the troubadouTs are
gone. lie sees that the brave little chick
adee remains faithful to his post, and
feels that his CHEEKY note enivens little
the dreariness of winter. as does the
reedy piping OF the nuthatch and the
voice oI the dowry, iuller of life than of
music. and The discordant note of the blue
| Jay, who, clad in bit OF summer sky,
loudly procIaims his presence; but the
singers are gone and he misses them.
I-AUgttSi Scrtbner