The Portland daily press., 1886-10-20
AUTUMN ON THE FARM.
Comforts and Sights of Country Life
in the Colder Days,
lThomas wentworth Higginson in Harpers Ba-
Za9r1

rThomas wentworth Higginson in Harper's Ba-
zaar1
About the end Of August, when the DAYS
grow little shorter and the nights cooler,
and summer boarders begin to tend cityward
there is apt to be temporary doubt in every
family which has summered in farmhouse
whether it should not migrate. a day or two
of storm will often turn the scale, and send
even this doubling household into hasty
retreat. On the other hand, few brilliant
days just at the critical period may happen
to turn the scale the other way, and once
turned, it does not again shift: stay after the
first of September, and it is hard to get away
for at least six weeks longer. III is true tnat
the season has changed, but you nave
new conditions, and your joys are now those
of the strong and radiant autumn. You
wear rather thicker clothes, it may be- you
plan to keep the blinds open instead Of Shut
you shift, perhaps, to the SUMMER side of the
house; you interest yourself in the harvest
ing of apples and pears instead of rasp-
berries; you decorate the parlor with brighter
flowers you wake later in the morning, and
return home earlier at night; but while your
ways of living are all thus slightly modified
you find that your total enjoyment is the
same
During the summer it seemed to you that
YOU were taking part in a sort OF swift
jubilee of nature, and nothing would endure
very long. 1t was hard to recognize that
farmers could have much to do-and every
summer boarder is sort of breyet farmer
after daytime should be past. But in au-
tumn you look round and find everybody as
busy as ever. The farmer and the farmers
hired man and the hired mans two
little boys are always hard at work; and
your own children, if you are SO lucky as to
have brought any to the farm, find life just
as full of arduous and responsible employ
ment in September as in July. Indeed, it
| seems as if every child on farm ought to
| keep clerk or a deputy all the time, their
| labors are so persistent. There are really
more things to be seen to on the farm as the
| year grows older; there are more chickens,
| more pigeons, more puppies, more kittens.
| Every morning sees the ground streWn with
pears and apples of all hues the cheeks OF
| the rosy child are not more delicately tinted
than the ''maiden's blush" she brings in:
Each day the corn-fodder has to be gathered
for the cattle, and the ears must be husked
for the dainty pigs; 1T is so curious to tnlnk
| that even pigs draw the line somewhere, and
| have their own standard of exquisite pro-
| priety. The COWS come home earlier to be
| MIXED, and the lanterns in the barn now
| bring out Rembrandt shadows OF moving
| men and tossing horns.
| No walk for early flowers is more attrac-
| tive than the expedition to the pine woods
| with the farmer for a load of wood after
| breakfast the crispness of the cool morn
| ing, the wet red leaves on which the frost
|
each stick as 1t is thrown and piled, the echo
ing of voices among the trees. No ride on
| the fragrant hay was more glorious to the
children than the ride home upon the wood
cart which I'VE have filled in the woods.
| Then when those sticks are placed upon the
andirons in the open fireplace, what sense
of triumph and of joy! Summer has no In
door home; outdoors becomes the Joyous
| substitute; but autumn by degrees rebullds
| the domestic instinct. and one comes back
1 Nuitb al lnQlp-Slde.
| the radiant hearth. just in proportion,
| moreover, as one personally contributes to
this flame does it become attractive and in
/ innate; by the sea-shore it shonld be led
| with driftwood in autumn; but farther In.
land there should be daily contribution OF
| pine cones and fallen branches-the drift
| wood of the air, This is especially true dur
| ing the present summer in New England, foI
| the heavy ice formations Of last winter broke
| down multitudeS of branches in every grove,
| and nothing is needed but to collect these III
| piles and break them up.
Even before the leaves are turned, the
colors of the farm grow rich with the splen-
dor of ripe apples and the lurking purple o.
ripening grapes. All along the rows of corn
are stationed, at regular intervals, the pump
| kins, like jovial sentinels; and even before
| the corn is all cut there are luxurious piles OF
these golden vegetables, mingled with
| squashes Of every shape and hue, around OF
| above the farm house doors. These consti-
| tute the bread-fruit of New England-the
only mere vegetable that ranks almost as a
| fruit for the associations of lusciousness and
| abundant SAVIOR that come with it. There is
curious graduation in local flavors; it is OBJ,
servable that long after the New England
| palate is educated beyond the liberation of
baked beans or brown bread it still responds
| tenderly to pumpkin pin.
| Passing from grosser sentiment to the finer
atmosphere of flowers, it might seem that, as
Bryant's melancholy days" approach, the
| dweller in the country might reproach Ma
| ture for penuriousnesS in offering daily
diminishing supply as the summer wanes.
| But Nature is kinder than we dreamed; and
| as the season advances she proves to have
| reserved her brightest hues, her most prolific
| species, for the time when they shall be
needed most. As the latest days of summer
| are beguiled by an increase of insect sounds
so are they by an added gorgeousness OF flow
| ers. The wild asters alone make a combi-
| nation of Splendor and dellcacy that no
| gardening can rival; August brings unique
| and beautiful cardinal-fower, and Septem-
Der the daintiest of all our wild flowers, the
| fringed gentan. Perhaps there is no wild
| flower, except the golden-rod, which so pre-
| dominates over whole meadow and subdues
| all other tints of its own; and this tint is
| one of its own wearing and monopolizing,
/ and not by any means that mere duplica-
| ting of the sky-"a piece of its cerulean walP'
| which Bryant attributes to the fringed gen
/ tian. 1t is perhaps sad, when this shows it.
self, to think that there is no other flower
| for which to look forward except the witch
| hazel But the compensation is in more
| careful study of the woods, and this study
| will reveal to US many belated spring flower
| clinging to a much longer tenure of life than
l the botanists allow it, On September %, L
found perfect strawberry blossom, and on
the same day the low laurel, or lamb-kill
| (Kalnia angust1oHd), attributed by Gray to
May and June only; and on September 10 the
| white blossom of the bunch-berry, or low
| cornell (Cornus cdnddensis), another June
| flower, which Mrs. Hunt Jackson was once
| censured in the atlantic Monthly for men,
tioning in September at all. 1t is worth
while to linger on the farm if we can only
| and human beings the period of spring bios
| soming may hold out far later than we had
expected,