Barbour County index. [volume] (Medicine Lodge, Kan.) 1880-current, 1882-06-15
The Old Rail Fence.

The Old Rail Fence.
William Hamilton Gibson, in Harpsr's Magazine.
/ am told by foreign tourists that
while many of our fences are reflected
in those of other lands, the counterpart
of the zigzsg fence is to be seen in no
other country. 1t is typical of Yankee
land.
II is known as the snake or Virginia
fence, and as the relic of a lavish era
of unlimited forestry. History does
not chronicle the name of its inventor,
but have long since learned to cherish
a profound respect for the memory of
this primitive rail-splitter, the picture
of an untutored back woodsman, and
never follow the course of one of
these fences without feeling certain
consciousness that the original builder
must have seen his work through eyes
artistic as well as practical.
The careless abandon of its lines-a
repetition of form in which absolute
repetition is continually defied by the
capricious eonvOlution of the grain, for
there are no two rails made in the
same mold-and their gray, satiny
sheen, their weather-beaten stains of
moss and lichen. and the ever-changing
play of lights and shadows from their
waving weeds and vines, make the old
rail-fence truly an ohject of real beauty
in our landscape. Often have lin-
gered in its angles, and hundred
times have thought of the host of
pictures and "reminiscences which
might fill a book to the glory Of a
fence corner.
Moreover, this popularity Of confor-
nation panders to the most worthy and
blessed sbiftlessness happily latent in
the bones of almost every farmer; for
while the ploughshare creeps close
along the base of the old stone wall,
and the direct course of most ether
fences offers a free scope for the
mowers scythe or the reaper's blade.
the outside corners of the zigzag fence
dodge beyond its reach, and thus es-
cape. How often, too, are these re-
cesses the convenient storage quarters
for the stones and stubble of the field,
and as such receive wide berth from
the newly-whetted scythe or cradle.
Thus does the old rail-fence bedeck
itself abundantly with wreaths and
garlands. The refuse stone piles clOthe
themselves in tangles of creeping dew
berry, cinQue-foil, and ground ivy; and
the round leaves of the creeping NAL
low coDspire to hide their nakedness'S
Tall brambles rise and yield their
snowy blossoms TO the rihing bees, or
later bang their purple fruit in tempt
ing lustIes to the troop of boys in
their eager scramble among the rails.
There are no black raspberries Sd large
and luscious, no hazelnuts so full and
brown. and no fi,berts so tantalizjng
beneath their prickly pods, as those
that grow up under the protection of
the old rsi'-fence. Here the rich. green
beds of sweet-fern give out their arc
raatic saE Or tn the wise old simpler,
the eager small boy, or even to the
squirrel in quest of the nutty kernels
among its seed hobs. The dull red
blossoms of the glycine tell of sweet
tubers beneath the ground, and the
bright sunhowers of tall artichokes
invite the old-time search among their
roots.
Here in these sheltered angles the
eddying November winds hurl their
flying leaves, and heap the glory of
the autumn present upon the matted
moulds of many autumns past. Later,
the whistling gales of winter whirl
about its corners. Clouds of drifting
snow bedim the evergreeDs, and drive
along the meadow, battling with the
army of tall. gaunt mulleins and red
capped sumacs, and at'last are whirled
along these weather-beaten timbers,
where fantastic peake1 Alps arise, and
overhanging glistening cliffs hem in
the rambling rails in great blue-shad-
owed crescents white and dazzling.