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suffered to grow like Topsy, and where the only garden is for vegeta- 

 bles. To those who have nice homes and home-like surroundings I 

 would say, keep them so or you will fail in a duty; to those who neg- 

 lect these matters I would seriously say, you have failed in a duty. 

 There is no reason in the world why the farm-house should not be as 

 comfortable and pretty as the town-house. Don't let the stock-yard 

 entrench on the porch — don't have the field the only topic of con- 

 versation. The city merchant leaves his business behind him when 

 he leaves the office, and devotes his evening to social intercourse ; why 

 shouldn't the farmer do so too? It wont make him any the poorer 

 to " wash up " when the work is done, and put on an easy coat, and 

 listen to his daughter playing, whilst the good wife passes an hour 

 with her needle, and the boy takes up the last number of Harper's. 

 It doesn't follow that they have not been attending to their several 

 duties during the day, house-keeping, cleaning, harvesting, or what 

 not ; and it is not an impossible sketch I have drawn, but the repro- 

 duction of what is happily becoming everywhere more common. 

 Eastern people, when they first come here, have nearly always some- 

 thing to say about the model homesteads that dot Maine and Ver- 

 mont, with an open comparison between those and ours that does 

 not reflect to the overwhelming advantage of this State. They are, 

 perhaps, given to tingeing it a little strong; but they are not entirely 

 without excuse for the tenor of their remarks. On the other hand, 

 you have the excuse — if it is needed — that, in a new country, to get a 

 house is the first consideration; to deck and garnish it an after- 

 thought. There is something in that, and we will look confidently 

 forward to a time when rural elegance shall prevail and everything 

 be as neat as wax. There is always a great amount of labor involved 

 in starting too; and work, hard work, continual hard work, is not 

 supremely calculated to induce habits of refinement. There is no 

 heart for anything better ; or, worse still, there is no time for it. You 

 men, or rather let me say, we men, are prone to think the heaviest 

 part of the yoke lies on our shoulders. Bread-winning is difficult 

 all around, and the helpmeet has her share of collar-work. I look 

 to you, ladies, for the indorsement of these lines on 



THE FARMER'S WIFE. 



Up with the birds in the early morning — 



The dew-drop glows like a precious gem ; 

 Beautiful tints in the skies are dawning, 



But she's never a moment to look at them. 

 The men are wanting their breakfast early; 



She must not linger, she must not wait; 

 For words that are sharp and looks that are surly, 



Are what men give when meals are late. 



To glorious color the clouds are turning, 



If she would but look over hills and trees; 

 But here are the dishes, and here is the churning — 



Those things always must yield to these. 

 The world is filled with the wine of beauty, 



If she could but pause and drink it in ; 

 But pleasure, she says, must wait for duty — 



Neglected work is committed sin. 



The day grows hot and her hands grow weary : 



Oh, for an hour to cool her head, 

 Out with the birds and the winds so cheery ! 



But she must get dinner and bake the bread. 



