The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1902-06-08
HIGH NOON OF THE YEAR.

In the long garland Of sweet summer
days. under the test which Alice Meynell
oelicately defines as the spirit of place."
the charm of charms about the little up
land farm is that it gradually roots in the
heart OF the country lover a despairing
affection for every sight and sOung of beau
tiful country life. Despairing, be IL ex-
planned. because the enchantine, dream of
June's sunny hours is so exquisite and
SO fieeting- In this fair and radiant month
of the years perfection-"the story that
cannot be told, because he who knows il
Is tongue-tied and dumb"-the most con-
scientious optimist finds now and then
a touch OF degenerate pessimism in his
thought While we watch June's lovely
towering banks Of snowy clouds, the wild
rose drops its petals; or. bend over
the Wondrous tints and fragrance Of the
rose. the clouds have melted and vanished
LET change be far from me-" said Richard
Jehries; faces fade as flowers, and there
IS no consolation But this dark tinge
OF mood. let Us be grateful. is as evaneseent
as the summer rose or the sunlit cloud;
the children of nature find the great moth
ers hand every ready 10 divert and to
soothe.
Across the rear suburbs Of town wind
Ing fOotpaths climb between bushes to
touch the deeply shaded lane which leads
up hill TO the farm; or. a woodland path
across the hilltop. from the south, 6nds
the lane which leads down hill to the farm
To the east lies the town-a bower OF trees
almost obscuring the peeping housetops
and the clustered spires. Beyond is spread
q broad, cleaning surface Of river, with
fhe stone piers of three majestic bridges
in sight on clear days. y great, green
island is set on the rivers breast, beyond
the nearest bridge: and the bright green
valley, the red-rOOfed town, the shining
water. under the blue sky's arch-in this
magical hour OF beautiful June-look like
an Oriental bowl. quaint in color and de-
vice. or a richly-hued bit of splendid mo-
sale
The farmers life has its fine, artistic
triumphs: and beyond the farm gate not
a single detail OF Farmer Johns seventy
acre domain lies OUT of place. Under the
shadow OF the great white oak tree just
inside the gate stands the first sweet hay
stack OF the years busy harvest The door
yard with its young orchard and rustic
arbor, the home in its clustered naples.
the new barn and the more beautiful old
barn, the little calf shed and the hillside
calf pasture shaded by friendly plum
trees" the vine-hldden well. the lane to
the woods between orchards, the tenant
cottages, cornhelds, berry fields, sunny
meadows and shaded ravines, the hilltop
and hillside woods-all have fallen into a
plan OF perfect adjustment exact in use
ful contiguity and beautiful in harmonious
relation. Twenty-acres-the original farm
purchase-are inclosed in an osage-orange
hedge. now freshly pleasing in its vivid
summer garb OF leafy sprays; beloved by
the birds for shelter IN June rains and for
nesting. and dear &c "Sheppy" for its many
little hidden green archways. or getting
through places Of his own devising. In
forcing his plump body through these sur
reptitiOus exits and entrances. 'Sheppy''
has left on the thorns OF the hedge almost
enough OF his fluffy yellow hair TO make
another good-sized dog: but he does not
seem 10 mind his losses. and Junes birds.