The Somerset reporter. [volume] (Skowhegan, Me.) 1868-1909, 1898-06-02
Here and There. No. Il.

Quite recently there appeared in a
New England paper presumably from
an author, request for drawings from
scenes in our rural life aud home interi-
ors, all to be of century or more ago.
1.-The making of many books" has gone
on at marvellous pace in the last
quarter of our century and the artist
has made myriads of pages luminous
with grace and beauty. The illustrator,
sincere and inspired, deserves unstinted,
grateful praise for service in arts high
calling.
More and more do the years that are
behind us seem near, and it is we'll, for
our present, all aglow with spleudor, the
future, mayhap holding unguessed rich
ness, both must rest on the same foun-
dation, the past, which though unseen
we vet hold fast thereto. Architecture
furnishes many interesting studies, yet
suffers not little as to present environ.
ment, notably in the city where perhaps
not vestige of its old time neighbour
hood remains. An old house seems like
a stranded ship and is a forlorn spec
tacle.
Now indeed the artist has decidedly
the advantage over the ordinary mortal,
for however the upstart, modern houses
NAV appear to regard the 'old settler
with its fast vanishing dignity, It's easy
to see that it has in its need a friend at
court. The up-to-date, smart dwellings
that have persistently crowded close to
the poor old house have seemed we'll
pleased even that in the short time yet
remaining, it would at least serve as a
foil to their fresh beauty. All, but how
the years have gathered moss for the
adjoining of stone and wood alike, and
| how time has, with sun and rain, be-
sto we'd upon the old house a soft, pure
| lustre that seems to raise it far above its
| youthful prettiness. So the artist must
see, as the mere passerby cannot, its
right to dwell in the artistic realm, for
| in his thought the fast crumbling frame
is only the autumn richness which elo.
quently tells of former bloom in its own
happy summer time, and he need not
etherealize but rather interpret.
May we not claim our right to this
love for houses which goes far below
the artistic worth and charm, even to
the life that was sheltered therein and
thus preserved for future usefulness.
There is peculiar sacredness belonging
of divine right to the home, and the
great worlds heroism, worshipful love
and tender joy, are here born and gently
cherished even as at the worlds fair
morning.
What picture is before us in this
glorious May time, where grand, sturdy
trees stand holding out to lis dainty
sprays of pink and white blossoms,
which they seem surprised to find cover
ing yesterdays fresh, green leaves.
In the pioneer home in the long ago,
the utmost vigilance was needed to pre-
serve life from the Indian savage or the
wild beast of the near forest. To
sustain life the price was fixed constant
and unremitting toll. In this New Eng
land life the establishment of the home
was an important factor, though very
crude now seem their happiest triumphs.
Wild flowers surely were plucked with
danger and only needless children would
attempt it. The rough fields, far too
narrow for their needs, offered little to
the would be gardener who saw season
after season go by without the cheer
of "green things growing" so dear to
the memory in the old home.
Before small fruits could be cul-
tivated, the one sure dependence seemed
to be apples. The forest as it receded
seemed to be followed quickly by grow
ing crops and when the little clusters of
apple trees were firmly set, it was a
great advance in the conquest of the
forest and in founding home. 1t was
not only for their usefulness that these
orchard trees were 80 lovingly regarded
but their beauty in all seasons charmed
and delighted old and young. The trees
were to these, harassed and sorely
tried pioneers, a gracious gift, speaking
directly of the old home they had loved
and Offering hope in the new. What a
strange troublous time it was when after
patient labor the fields grew smooth and
the hardy men and brave women were
again and again driven forth by the
Indians who, in many cases, destroyed
life as well as property. Sometimes the
orchard was all that would be found to
mark the spot where the home had been,
so utterly had the savages destroyed the
pioneers improvements. The fact re-
mains that all through large tract of
deserted farms the Indians had not laid
violent hands upon the precious
orchards.
Year after year the trees blossomed
and year after year no human hand
plucked the fruit. When it became safe
to return to their lands many gazed
with onder and delight on the trees
they had dreamed of but had never
thought to see. All, cannot the BIOS
SONS with perfumed breath sweetly tell
us today of the grand, strong life lived
in earlier days by those we gratefully,
proudly call our ancestors and whom
history names heroes?
EMMA M. SMITH.
Commerce with China.