Every evening, Wilmington daily commercial., 1918-08-09
BAYARD TAYLOR
FOUND bOY|SH JOY
IN OWNING FARM
The Homely Trees Even Seemed
to Sense Their Safety, Poet
Delightfully."- Wrote.
SPARED ALL THE TIMBER

AT last came the launch into the world
"a slide, plunge, a shudder, and the
ship rides the waves Absence, occupation.
travel, substituted facts for dreams, and
the farm, if not forgotten, became sub
ordinate object In the catalogue ot things
to be attained. Whenever | VISITED the
pmestead, however, | saw the sunset
through its grating of forest ana
sighed, as | counted up myscanty earnings,
at the reflection that years might pass
before | could think of possessing It,. My
wish, nevertheless, was heard ana re-
membered
In July, 1858, was on the island of
Loo-Choo Returning to the flagship OF
the squadron one evening, alter long
tramp over the hills in a successful search
for the ruins of the ancient fortress OF
Tima-gusku, | was summoned by the
officer of the deck TO receive package OF
letters which had been sent on board
from one of the other vessels. Letters
from home. after an interval OF SIX mOnthsl
| immediately asked permission to burn
a lamp on the orlop-deck, and read till
midnight. Opening letter after
letter, and devouring the news they con-
tanned, the most startling communication
was-that the old farm was mlne! The
property had been sold, and the purchase
had been made IN my name.
Five months aftcrward | approached
home. Il was Christmas Eve.-a clear,
sharp. winter night The bare earth was
hard frozen; the sun was down, quarter
moon shone overhead, and the keen north
west wind blew in my face Present.
" / recognized the boundaries of my
property. After all, | thought,
posscssion-at least SO far as nature is
concerncd-mcans simply protection. This
moonlit wilderness is not more beautiful
to my eyes than il was before; but have
the right. secured by legal documents, to
preserve its beauty | need not implorc
the woodman to spare those trees. ! II
spare them myself This is the only
difference in my relation to the property:
During these reflections | had reached
the foot of the ridge \ giant tulip-tree
crowned the slope, the honey Of whose
blossoms | had many a time pllfered in
bOvhOod Behind it stood the oaks, far
along the road. As | reached the first
tree, the wind gradually swelled, humming
through the bare branches until a deep
organbasS filled the wood Welcome,
welcome homeI' went booming through
the trees: welcome, our master and our
preserver. See, with all the voice we can
catch from the winds, we utter our JOY
For now there is an end TO the suspense:
he who knows and loves us spreads over
us his care Long shall we flourish on the
hill long shall our leaves expand in the
upper air; long shall our graceful shadows
cover his path We shall hail his coming
from afar; our topmost boughs shall spy
him across the valleys"
In the first place, ii runs in the family.
NJ fo-b1r iS n 70 f~-a,I
father was. and his father before him, and
his again, to the seventh ancestor. who
came over in one of William PENIS
vessels and Immediately set about re-
ducing the superfluous sylvanisIn of that
Apostles Svlvania. II | could brush
away the clouds that hang about this
portion of the genealogical tree. | have
no doubt that | should find its trunk
striking through cottages or country halls
for some centuries further and that
Roger. the son Of ThOpas. the son of
Roger. who wore the judicial erInine upon
his escutcheon, had his favorite country
house in the neighborhood of London.
Almost nv first recollection is that of
8 swamp, into which / went barelegged
at morning, and out of which / came when
driven by hunger. with long stockings of
black mud and a mask OF the same. II
the child was missed from the house. the
first thing was TO climb a mound which
overlooked the swamp. Somewhere
among the tufts of the rushes and the
bladed leaves OF the calamus a little
brown ball was sure to be seen moving
now dipping out of light, now rising again,
like bit Of drift on the ripping green.
1t was my head. The treasures l there
collected were black terrapin with yellow
spots. baby frogs the size of chestnut,
thrushes' eggs and stems of purple phlox.
II happened that adjoining my fathers |
property there was an old farm Thirty |
or forty years had passed since the plow !
had touched any part of IT. The owner, |
who lived upon another estate at a little |
distance, had always declined TO sell. |
Left thus 10 herself, Nature had |
played all sorts Of pranks and a |
mixture Of sedgerass, surnachs, and !
blackberry bushes covered the fields. |
The hawthorn hedges which lined the lane /
had disappeared, but some clumps of |
privet still held their ground and the |
wild grape and the scarlet-berried celas- |
trus clambered all over the tall sassafras |
and tulip-trees.
Along the road which bounded this |
farm on the east stood grove of magnif- |
cent OAKS, more tO4Il a uuDGTGQ IeeL IN /
height Standing too closely to permit |
Of lateral boughs near the earth, their |
trunks rose like crowded colonnade |
clear against the sky, and the sunset. |
burning through, took more gorgeous |
hues of orange and fiery crimson. Know |
ing that if the farm were sold, those |
glorious trees would probably be the first !
TO fall, and that the sunset would thereby |
for me lose half their srlendor, l gradually |
came to contemplate them with the IN /
terest which an uncertain, suspended |
fate inspires At the foot Of the oaks, |
there was an old gnarled mother-pine, |
surrounded by her brood of young ones,
who, always sprlngng up in the same |
direction from the fact that the seeds |
were scattered by the northwest wind.
seemed TO be running off down the slope.
as II eager 10 make their way into the |
world. 30 the trees seemed to |
recognize me.
W hen | walked over my fields the next
day. You will, of course, cut
down that ugly old tree" said some one
1t Impressed me very much as If | had |
been told, That chapter is inferior 10 the
Others; tear it outp Why, even the sedge-
grass and the sumachs-how beautiful
they werel Could l ever make uD nv
mind to destroy them? As for the cedars
the hawthorn, the privet, the tangled
masses of climbing smilax,-no, by the
bones of Belshazzar, they shall standl
This field will not be worth much for
grain Well, what if it isn't? EVERY
thing is wild and neglected; it wants