Iowa County democrat. [volume] (Mineral Point, Wis.) 1877-1938, 1890-02-21
COMFORT ON THE FARM.
Winter Welcome to the Wise Men.

There is no discomfort in the prosperous
farmers winter. All the fruits of glorious
summer are harvested and safely housed.
| the grain and hay that filled the granaries
and heaped his mows are so much wealth
to him, and the well-fed stock that trust
hls care to arm them against the angry
storm crowd to the managers and present
their sleek sides in proof of his good stew
ardshlp. The brown fields that once were
green are now mutfied deep in snow. and
all the mystic laboratories of the earth are
busy distllling juices that shall mount
again when sunshine comes and nod in
grain or swing in ripened fruit. The
polsons of the earth are swallowed I'D in
tlngllng cold or spreading snow, and all
the air Is gaining purity with passing
days. The distant woods that stood a
shore of green about sea of gold in har-
vest time, that rang through all their
arches with song of birds and hid the
tlmld jewellers In the shade, have paled in
fear before the march of winter and put
of the gorgeous garments of bright green
and gold to stand in somber brown and
groan complaint of tyrant Boreas. But
though they writhe and struggle with the
blast the forests know escape will come.
and every tree and flower which wears to-
day the yoke of winter shall stand in
greater strength and sweeter beauty for
the brief captivity.
Strong grows the oak with the sweepinp storm.
Safely the flowers sleep under the snow.
And the farmers heart is never warm
Till the cold wind starts to blow.
The sweets of life come to farmer first
A year of toll well done gives him a re-
spite from the cares of earth. and the first
fruits of year industry are fairly his.
The wise and provident husbandman keeps
what is best for himself He feeds his fami-
Iy and dependent brutes with the choicest
of all the kind soil yielded, and what is
left or what is less of value goes to the
market for less priced cash. The cellar is
an arsenal against the foe hunger and the
siege of winter months Dark and deep.
its stone floor is cleared like Il desk for
action, and all around are bins and barrels
loaded to the muzzle and ammunition for
a sure defense. Fruit that might have
caused another Trojan war, root crops that
laid so close to mother earth that all her
warm blood tingles in them yet. are rang
ed around upon the floor iii good house
wifely order, and above them swing the
shelves where cannisterS of delicacies await
the midday need. Canned goods that scorn
relationship with timed and printed mer-
chandlse, preserves that prove a house
wltes merit, Jelly and jam that tempt an
eplcure all stand in orderly array and feed
one with the very thought that here is
plenty, no matter what the need.
Apples are heaped in penteous piles
Potatoes in various colors and styles,
Beets and turnips provoke long smiles,
But all defy the winter.
Another row of barrels shows the last
resolution of the orchard fruit Gathered
IN the silent Indian summer days, ground
to pulp and pressed beneath a load that
Atlas might not bear, here rests the cider
which farmer skill has chained before
the gentle juices changed to acrid tart, be-
fore the lurking demon sprang to life Up
IN the attic, betwiXt the gaping gables of
the house, are spread the nuts which hid
in velvet pockets all the autumn days till
Jack Frost, grim highwayman, bid them
stand and deliver. And down below, in
that thronerOom of honest women, the far
mer S kitchen, are combined the humble
ingredients which go to make the evening
IN the ample sitting-room not long and
dreary, but brief and comforting indeed
The log fireplace has disappeared as time
went forward. and all the modern gods of
ease are spread before the thrifty farmers
gaze. And into this, the last recess of
home. Exile comfort, 'scorned of devils,
folds her weary wings
Twenty barrels of cider
Ripening all in a row,
Open the vent channels wider;
See the froth drifted like snow,
Blown by the tempest below.
These deectabe juices
Flowed through the sinuous SluiCes
OF sweet springs under the orchard
Climbed with the powers that chained them,
Dropped into cups that retained them,
And swelled till they fell and we gained them
Children gathered around that rural
sire, their healthy forms inclosed in gar
ments taken from downy fleece and yield
ing fax; their rudy faces shine with air.
and light, and exercise; their sinless pratt
tie cheers and comforts weary ears, their
budding minds are held like vessels high
in air, stretched to their tallest bent and
begging wisdom for her treasures Books
are few but good, and all are read so well
that gates are thrown wide open to the
mind, and the men who taught the world
In other years grow greater as their set
ting suns throw longer shadows on the
field of earth. Boys and girls who grow
to full estate in seasons that have gone,
who light the fires of other households
now, traverse the fields and tread the
rugged roads to pass the evening in pater-
nal smiles They are the rich capsheaf
that crowns the harvest of farmers life.
| The comfort, cheer and luxury that years
have won are gilded brighter yet by these
ingatherings of that younger band who
! found the ruder foes of rural battlefeds
had sunk beneath the lusty blows of iron
sinewed sires They counsel with the
pioneer at night and winter hold their
way without. Gray hairs deliberate and
! ripened years grow young again in weigh
| ing for this later striver in the lists the
| prospects of another seasons toll. What
| field shall lie in fallow? Where shall
grain be sown? What new walls need to rise
and house the harvest? What stock shall
go to market, what shall rest at home ?
| All this is burden added to the old man S
| lot, and yet load which lightens all the
| cares of life. Gray hairs are honored by
an honest son, and winter knits together
as fairest sunshine could not do this vete
ran who stands waist-deep in the food of
years and points the way of wisdom to the
| younger man whose feet are barely touch
ed by the ceaseless tide.
Cares crown the life of the aging mau.
And shadows show that the race is run,
But his heart grows warm in the royal love
OF an honest son.
Winter is blessing and rest to him A
provident hand has hedged about his
home and patience arms him as the cold
blast comes He knows that the
earth needs rest; he knows that ever
| lasting harvests travel hand in hand with
death; he knows that all the foes the sum-
mer bred are crushed and banished from
the earth by this strong sweep of storms,
and, knowing this, he girds himself for
newer labors when the warm breeze blows
and gathers strength and suns his heart
in thankfulness.
Crown that's won is worth the wearing;
Cares that bless worth the bearing;
Wreath of love is made for sharing;
Home is heaven, earth is Eden,
Life is daring
Al who use Dobbins Electric Soap
praise it as the best, cheapest and most eco
nOnlical family soap made; but if you will
I - IL IL.