The Lexington dispatch. [volume] (Lexington, South Carolina) 1870-1917, 1880-08-11
Bill Arp--His Crops.

When q farmer has laid by his crop
and the seasons have been kind and
the corr and cotton look green and
vigorous, and the sweet potato vines
have covered the ground, what an in
nocent luxury it is to set in the piazzer
in the shades of evening and with
ones feet on the banisters. contem-
plate the beauty and bounty of nature
and the hopeful prospects Of another
years support. It looks like that
even an Ishmaelite might then feel
calm and serious, and if he is still un-
grateful for his abundant blessings
he is worse than q heather, and ought
to be run out of q Christian country
with the Chinese plank in The Demo-
cratic platform. Every year brings
toll and trouble and apprehension,
but there always comes along rest and
peace and the ripe fruits of ones
labors.
In the journey Of life the mountains
loom up before us and they look
high and steep and rugged, but some
how they always disappear just be-
fore we get to them and then we can
look back and feel ashamed that we
borrowed so much trouble and had
so much anxiety for nothing. What
a great pile of miserable fears we
build up every day. It's good for a
man to ruminate over it and resolve
to have more faith in providence, and
I am terminating now. I was think
ing about the crop that has been laid
by and that brought to mind another
crop that was pretty much done with
and is able to take care of itself with
a little watching. mean the crop OF
children that for 80 years has kept us
q working and worrying by day and
by night, in summer and winter, in
peace and in war, but it's all over now
thank the good Lord for His mercies.
The last tender shoot is about laid
by. No more nursing and toting
I4eeuad and warming the>milkb by the
midnight lamp. No more baby songs
or paregoric or teething or collie or
catnip tea. No more washing and
dressing and undressing and putting
to bed. No tiptoeing round the room
when they r asleep or playing horse
and bear and monkey when they are
wake. Never again will there be a
two or three of EN- crawling all over
a man or under his chair, or riding
on his back or trottipg on his weary
knees as he sings the same old songs
that he has sung a thousand times
before. Our last and youngest, has
passed the rubicon. Bless her little
heart, if it was all for my sake, I wish
she would never grow any more OF
any older, for she is the comfort Of
my declining years. She con now
wash and dress, and undress, and say
her own prayers and put her little
self to bed. She can sing her OWL
songs, and look at the picture books,
and save US many a step, for she
wits on US now like a fairy and fills
the house with sunlight. The crop
is laid by, thank goodness and
wouldn't undertake to make another
for a house full of gold. In the hay
day of our youthful vigor a kind
Providence enables US to bear up
splendidly under these sort Of bur-
deus, but an old man cant-it wasn't
intended-it's against the order Of
nature. Many a time have I watched
the old blue hens that lays and sets
and matches her little brood, and
works and watches for EN- a couple OF
months, and then lays by the crop
and goes to laying again for another
We can't do that, and I don't want
to, for I tell you I'm tired. If there's
any peril in life that is like a linger
ing suicide, it is for and old widowel
who has raised one crop to marry q
young wife and go to cropping again
I don't think they will ever get to
Heaven, for the Arabs say that Para
disc wasn't made for fools. If ever !
am a lone widower which the Lord
forbid, I'll flee from a marrying wo-