Middletown transcript., 1901-03-02
HEN FATHER MOVED

Ine novelty OF the cnange at HrsCs anu u
be terribly homesick for our New Eng
land streams and woods as soon as the
newness of our surroundings wore off.
My young brothers and sisters were
at too tender an age to appreciate the
sensations l and, as I discovered later
my mother experienced. 1 supposed
that father was too busy with his work tc
feel lonesome or homesick; at all events.
he never gave expression to any such
feelings in our hearing.
But mother and talked much about
the dear old New England days and
friends, and in this communion we found
relief for our feelings. One day, after an
unusually protracted conversation about
the past scenes in our life, she said alb.
ruptly:
'We ought not to regret what we have
left behind, Harry, and it is wrong for us
to be encouraging this homesick senti'
ment This is our future home, and we
must make it as pleasant as our old one. u
'That's impossible, mother" reioined
not at all entering into the spirit of her
proposal
Nothing is impossible, Harry" she
said sweetly. "And to show you that
this is not, IN going to begin right away
to create change"
listened to her in astonishment, and
waited for her to proceed.
81 think miss the flowers that used
to raise in our garden more than any
thing else," she said, "and Pm going to
send for seeds of mothers poppies, mas
turtiums, mignonette, phlox, and all OF
my favorites. Well plant them around
the house, and make a bit of New Eng
land right here"
'Pll help you, too, mother" l said,
beginning to catch little of her enthus-
iasm.
eyes; but you must have something to
tend yourself" she replied" something
that you miss the most. What is it?''
l thought moment. My mind ran
swiftly back over past pleasures, and !
conjured up pictures of the trout-stream
on the farm, the old mill-pond where we
always went swimming in summer, the
old grove of chesnut-trees on the lower
edge of the farm, the squirrels nest in
the woods, the barn-yard animals, my
/ not oIioEopc ond-and-
I stopped thinking, and answered
quickly, with a radiant smile on my
lips:
"My pigeons, of course, mother"
"Well, then, pigeons you shall have
here, she replied. 'T'm going to send to
mother for the fower-seeds, and I'LL have
her ship you out a pair of fantail pigeons.
You can build house for them, and Tll
make garden for the seeds"
That is how we transferred bit of
New England to Arizona In due time
the seeds and pigeons arrived. While
mother cultivated her plants, and made
the house and garden smile with green
foliage and flowers that took away half
our homesickness, 1 watched and tended
my pigeons with all the enthusiasm of
past days.
In time we gradually reversed the for
mer conclusions of all our discussions.
Instead of regretting the past, we con-
trasted our new home more favorably
with our old, and found contentment
therein.
My brothers and sisters grew in years,
and helped to make our happiness more
complete. In five years I was so in, love
with our Arizona life that 1 would not
exchange it for any dream Of the past
But the pigeons which had contributed
SO much to my early happiness became
source of wonder and pride to all the set
tiers in that lonely region. From single
pair they increased to several hundred,
until we had to kill some of them every
year TO keep their numbers within reason
able limits. l became an expert in pigeon
raising, and studied all of their habits
and ailments with the enthusiasm of an
expert.
Bob, my brother, always helped me in
the work of tending them, and we spent
many pleasant hours watching the great
flocks of fantails and tumblers. l had
added new birds to the focks at various
times by importations from the East, and
we were ever on the lookout for
others.
In the summer Of 1873 learned that
some of the officers at Fort Defiance had
received new breed of pigeons from the
East, and that they were going to raise
them as pets at the fort. When heard
of this, said to Bob:
'Pm going to take dozen of our fan
tails and tumblers to the fort and see if
we can't make an exchange. / under
stand they have some pouters among the
lot, and I'd dearly like to get hold of
some of that breed"
"All right" Bob responded. 'I'll go
with you"
The distance to the fort was about
thirty miles, and we had to make the trip
on horseback We decided to start early
one morning. and to return the follow
ing day at noon if we could make ar ex-
change in that time.
We took the pigeons in large wicker
basket, which we could sling over the
saddle. Bob was about eighteen then,
and | twenty-one, and we had become SO
accustomed to the life on the plains that
we never felt fear. We carried our rifles
with us, and thus armed we felt secure
from any danger.
Father warned us when we left that re-
ports had been around that the Apaches
were getting troublesome again, and said
it would be wise for us to travel only in
the daytime, and not to pitch a camp or
to pass night or the plains.
We knew enough. about the Indians to |
appreciate what this meant, and we we're