Morning journal and courier., 1885-01-05
AMERICAN FARM LIFE.
Not As The Poets Have Fancied 1t
 Hut As The Farmers Find It. Mr w C. Prime in tue Journal of Com

From what know of many farms I am | inclined to think that it may be safely said | there are many thousand farmers in New England whose accounts of results, reducing produce to money value, would show an | average of less than $500 per annum as the l total pay of the labor of the farmer and wife l and more or less children.
 What this labor is such a farm can outline in general, but this outline will nec- essarily omit scores of things to be done only | few of which the farmer sums up under | the word 'schores." These chores break the 1 back of the stoutest man, wear out soul and | body of the healthiest woman.
 | It was late of a winter night in the farm 1 house, and the family were asleep I alone was awake, and making note of the days doings The farm lay among hills, 130 acres, half woodland never cleared, @ quarter and l more of pasture, the rest devoted generally l to corn oats, potatoes and little wheat and rye. The vegetable garden was the care of the wife getting now and then half hours work for heavy spading for one of the boys, The family were father and mother, two sons of seventeen and nineteen, daughter of six teen and another of six.
 My room was over the kitchen, whose stove pipe came up through the floor. It was
 
 the farmer and his boys were heard walking about the kitchen, making up the fire and
 bringing in a store of wood for the forenoon. The wife and elder daughter were down stairs fifteen minutes later. Then the men folks went out to the barn, and began work with
 watering and feeding the stock. These had
 to be driven or led out to water, for the sta ble supplies were frozen solid. From my
 bed I could see through the window the Ian terms and the slow heavy procession of oxen, cows and horses going to the stream and back toward the stables. Then the cleaning out of the stables occupied them for an hour, and the chickens were looked after; and the sheep, of which there were only thirty or thereabouts What else they were doing know not, but they were out until after six o'clock when joined them at the breakfast table, by candle light. The thermometer was then at five below zero outside the kltch- en door, Immediately after breakfast they got down & lot of oats and threshed out enough to last the horses for feed few days, cleaning it in hand flaming mill; and then shelled some bushels of corn. Before l0 o'clock the three men with yoke of oxen went to the woods, half mile of, to cut wood. This is for next winters use The wood is cut in the deep snow, corded up and hauled down to the farm on sleds. Before spring comes the full supply for next winters burning must be cut split and piled under cover for seasoning. They had carried their dinner with them. drove down four miles to the village late in the afternoon and re- turned before dark. The three men were coming home across the white pasture lot, and by the time they had slowed away their traps supper was ready in the kitchen. Ten minutes after supper were given to thelr pipes. The pipes finished, the father lighted his lantern and the sons followed him. They went out and again fed and watered the stock and did various chores around the barns and sheds, coming in at a little after { o'clock. It was not till haf-past seven that the family were gathered around the fire. But work was not yet ended The father and one of the sons were whiting and working out bits of hickory and ash to sup ply OK yokes and broken parts of farm tools. The mother and elder daughter were mend ing clothes which had suffered ill forest work. The other son read aloud from Harper's Mag azine while the days labor drew to it's late close At nine o'clock all were in bed and asleep, peacefully thoughtless of the neces- sary rousing to come in eight hours and the new day of labor.
 have before me letter I have just re- ceived from farm lying in a valley under the mountains that are visible from Lone some lake cabin. Already the snow lies deep on the farm, and winter has closed in with gloom and terror to that farm. Says the let ter: q don't know what is to come Of US this winter. Could you have seen our corn, potatoes and the garden we had on the morn ing of July 19, and have seen the same at night-cut off by the hail as if mown down by scythe almost. We do not complain, for it is from the Lord, but the tears would come when we saw all our labor destroyed so quickly. Now winter is coming" oSc.
 Yes, winter is coming. No shoot of green grass or blossom of flower will be seen for full six months from now. There will be more or less snow and frost till next June. 1 drove from St. Johnsbury in Vermont to Franconia in New Hampshire on the 3Oth of May this year, in a heavy driving snow storm. Believe there are countless farm houses in which this winter of 1o94-5 is com ing with weight of terrible anxiety.
 Nor should it be forgotten that this large part of our population are not class who make their wants known. They do not or ganize unions, nor beg individually. They are the noblest, hardest, best stock in all the American people. They are the bone and sinew of the population. As a class they are the most uniformly refined, honest and honorable among us. There are more true gentlemen among the men, more true ladies among the wives and daughters than in any other class of people, in the city or country. I speak advisedly The honor, the good faith, the brotherly kindness and charity which characterizes them is beyond praise. The desire to make money which is so uni ,ersally the contaminating influence in busl- ness and social life has had little effect on them, because they have very little of that desire. Life with them is labor for the sup
 port of themselves and families, and if now and then they accumulate & little money, It IS laid up for the dark day that IS sure to come, when it will be spent for the necessa- ries of life