Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1883-10-12

guide. book, we wandered far into Dalecarlia
(Sweden), wherever tho picturesqueness Of
people or landscape led US, regardless of the
conventionalities Of travel. The long days OF
midsummer, with no darkness and little twi-
light followed one another like a succession
of day dreams, for no arbitrary Nature drove
us TO bed or summoned rs to rise. At mid
night we were sometimes working on sunset
color studies or sitting at the window reading
We started for our days walk an hour after
supper, sleeping when we were sleepy, and
eating when we were hungry. How long a
man accustomed to a lower latitude could en-.
dure the dissipation Of this irregular life we
did not discover, for our experiment was not
long enough to fix the limit of our endurance
For while, at least, it was an agreeable
change, and we looked forward to dark nights
with no pleasant anticipation There came
continually to mind the complaint of the
thrifty New England house wife, who, although
rising at dawn, and continuing her work by
evening caudle-lght, never thinks her day
half long enough for the hundred duties that
are crowded into it. But the Dalecarlian farm
or doubtless finds his working hours as many
as human nature can endure, for he is obliged
in this short season to make up for the long
and dark winter, when candles are lighted in
the afternoon, and the cattle do not leave the
barns for months The farm boy bitches up
the horses to harrow at ten O'Clock in the
evening" toward midnight the carts laden
with hay rumble along the village streets, and
there are sounds of life all night long. Even
the birds scarcely know when to cease sing
ing, and their twitter may be heard far into
the evening.
Rise when you like in the morn
ing, and you will always find the farmer al
ready at work. In the heat of high noon he
may be asleep in his wooden bunk in the liv-
T. - "A. Al =.
deserted and the key hangs on the door jamb
or is stuck in the shingles of the low porch.
The laborers come in for their dinner after
hours of dusty labor in the fields. A huge
copper pot is brought out in the middle Of
the courtyard and filled with water. The
girls take off their kerchiefs and battle their
arms and necks, budding together in the
shade of the porch. Men follow, and repeat
the operation. Then the girls dip their feet
in the bath, and dry them on the embroidered
towels hanging in the sun, and finally the
men and boys finish their dinner toilet in the
same water The meal is a simple one-por-
ridge, milk, unleavoned bread and perhaps
some dry or picked fish. Weak fermented
drink is handed round in a clumsy wooden
tirkin, with side and cover painted or carved
two generations ago. At the close of the
meal they sit around the room and sing a
hymn together before they return to the
fields. Everything in the house is of the most
primitive order. In the single large room on
the ground. floor are chairs made of hollow
tree-trunks, tables of rough hewn planks turn
up on folding legs against the side of the
room, and there are hunks in the wall, with
curiously carved and painted trimmings Be-
side the rude stone fire platform, where the
smoke curls up under an overhanging hood,
stands the well-known chopping block, where
during the long evenings of the winter months
the farmer sits by the hour splitting kindling.
wood and whiting. From the smoky beams
overhead hang tools, baskets, and poles drap-
ed with great lunches of folded rye bread,
about the appearance aud texture of coarse
brown paper. To tighten up the dull.toned
interior the farmers wife has hung her en-
brodered towels and brilliant coverlets along
the front of the straw filled hunks, and spread
a richly colored piece of soft home-woven
wool over the painted chest where the Bibles
and hymn-books are carefully stored. On the
floor she has sprinkled fresh birch leaves or
stretched a piece of home made rag carpet.
Geraniums and roses bloom in the long, low
window, where the green toned glass set in
lead let's in a mellow light The rakes which
hang by the door are whitfield out of tough
wood. The beer-mug, the old hand mangles,
and the saddle bows are carved in grotesque
forms or covered with intricate ornamental
cry is found perhaps quaint silver cup, and
sticking in the same rack with the clumsy
wooden ladies' is a battered but serviceable
silver spoon which has fed half dozen gen
erations. The only literature in sight is a
bundle of Swedish newspapers from far-oT
Minnesota, carefully preserved, and read again
and again.
Compulsory education has given
an untold impulse to the development of the
country. The peasant who can not read or
write is almost a curiosity. Their knowledge
of the outside world is sometimes surprising.
Few families but have near relatives or friends
who have emigrated, and through the means
OF constant correspondence they get an ac-
quaintance with the manners and customs Of
other countries. We met more than one peas
ant who, although they had never seen a To-
connective or worn O coat of newer cut than q
hundred years ago, were better posted on the
tonnage and speed of American steamers than
we were ourselves, and had no little knowl-
edge of the politics of the world. Emigration
seems to be chilly caused by the high rate of
taxes-in some parishes ten per cent of the
net income-and by the low wages for labor
one crown and half-about forty cents
day. The proportion Of cleared land to for.
est is very small. and the reason given for
this is the expectation of new division Of
land. mo one" say the farmers will i'm
prove his land as long as there is a prospect
of a new division. Those who are badly of
are always clamoring for this new division,
and when it comes it will take at least fifteen
or twenty years to execute it, and meanwhile
everything will be in confusion" The troub-
le is that the farmers sons, when they marry
receive definite portion of the farm as their
inheritance. This custom has naturally tend
ed to great subdivision of the land, and fur.
thermore has brought about, after several
generations, an inextricable confusion of IT,
ties The farms of any great extent are now
made up Of many small parcels of land scat
tered all over the country. Some farmers
have pasture lands adjacent; others must
drive their COWS a days journey, and keep
them there all summer at great Inconvenience.
To remedy this confusion new division of
land is sometimes resorted to. This may be
decided upon by a vote of the parish and if
the grumblers carry the day, the land is re-
divided, the proportion accurately fixed, and
the farm boundaries properly adjusted This
primitive method of settlement of a great diff.
fculty is not without its injustice, and a new
division causes no end of disturbance and i'll
feeling. -FFdnk d. Mllet in Oct. Hdrpey's.