The Washington bee., 1896-09-05
CITY OR COUNTRY.

money and less ambition, shall
settle in the country and follow
the plough share, or settle and
be swallowed up in the city to
share it's plowing, is a question
that one must decide for him
self And yet young people
who imagine me older than [
really am, have put to me this
question often. Wistful look
ing damsels of eighteen and
would-be men of twenty-one
have sought me out in this dark
room way up here and asked
me to decide this question for
them. Letters, during the
warm spell, just poured in until
[ felt the need of a good ener-
getic secretary that could not
sleep to assist me to read these
questions, all to the same point,
which was the better, country
or city life? [ waited until the
weather changed, thinking my
views might change with it, ere
| dared answer such an impor-
tant question for these anxious
young people. And [ now trust
my answer will give them more
satisfaction than the answers of
the candidates for the Presi-
dency gave to us in your issue
Of few weeks ago.
LIFE IN THE COUNTRY.
Life in the country has al
ways been to me the most ideal
istic: this is, perhaps because
| never lived there very much,
and having spent the most of
my twenty-seven years housed
up in hot smoking city, | am
ready to consider the country
life a charm. I have never had
to rise at 3 or 4 in the morning,
kick as we'll as groom the
horses, milk the very docile
COWS, cut tire-wood for the large
fire-places which can only be
started with q cord, go a mile
to the spring house, get the
butter for breakfast, and a pail
of water, and kill three snakes
on my return home OF course
| have never experienced such,
and therefore country life has
always been the most idealistic
to me.
TO rise at five in the morn
ings of the spring, summer and
fall months, take a walk out
into the green fields, hear the
birds sing and the dogs bark
and the farm hands whistling
and the women cooling softly to
the mild-eyed COWS "co-suck,
co-suck, co, CO, co." and then
watch how quickly they fill
pail with nice, rich Jersey milk
from a non-breed COW, and see
that COW put her foot squarely
into that pail-now if this is
not too poetic to be poetry I
know nothing of rhyme and
l tell you, to be under
some shade tree while the hay
makers perspire in the broiling
sun, and sing their songs of pas
toral love, with some sweet girl
reading you "Lucile" or some
other interesting book, is more
idealistic than real. To hurry
home at evening for supper af-
ter you have spent nearly two
hours crossing a 2-acre field, be-
Kate was interested in
your explanation of the sun set,
and loved to hear you speak of
the stars and flowers, while you
hear the farm boys voice call
ing far away over the hills "Ho,
boss, no, boss, no, no, hop and
the whip-poor-will in the val
ley yonder where the trees are
thick, sending forth his plain
tive strains "whip-poor- will,
whip poor will, whip-poor-will"
Or on yonder tall, ghast-like,
dead tree, the song Of the night
ingale sweet and clear, and to
crown all this, to skiff on the
quiet air the scent of the coffee
and the fried bacon and the |
black-eyed peas! there is not |
in a real city home to
beat this, is there
Yes, and for an education. |
You may walk not over 6 miles
nor less than five to a log build
Ing, accommodating about thir-
" children with an average at
of ten, to either a girl I
ike woman or a man-like boy, |
Ind have the same lesson taught |