46 MY FARM. 



ing for the farm, I had also bargained for the imple 

 ments of which there might be immediate need. 



Directly upon the roadway, before the house, 

 rose a high wall, supporting the little terrace that 

 formed the front yard ; the terrace was a wilderness 

 of roses, lilacs, and undipped box. The entrance 

 way was by a flight of stone steps which led through 

 the middle of the terrace, and of the wall ; while 

 over the steps hung the remnants of an ancient arch 

 way, which, had once supported a gilded lantern ; 

 and I was told with an air of due reverence, that this 

 gilded spangle of the town life, was a memento of 

 the hospitalities of a certain warm-blooded West 

 Indian, who in gone by years had lighted up the 

 country home with cheery festivities. I would have 

 cherished the lantern if it had not long before dis 

 appeared ; and the steps that may have once thronged 

 under it, must be all of them heavy with years now, 

 if they have not rested from their weary beat alto 

 gether. Both wall and terrace are now gone, and a 

 gentle swell of green turf is in their place, skirted 

 by a hedge and low rustic paling, and crowned by a 

 gaunt pine tree, and a bowering elm. 



The same hospitable occupant, to whom I have 

 referred, had made additions to the home itself, so as 

 to divest it of the usual, stereotyped farm-house look, 

 by a certain quaintness of outline. This he had done 



