SFPPEE. 245 



CHAPTER XVI. 



SUPPER. 



La decouverte d'un mets nouveau fait plus pour le bonheur du genre 

 humain que la decouverte d'une 6toile. — Brillat Savakin. 



Who is there, accustomed to American rural scenery, 

 that cannot remember the summons that calls to dinner 

 at the country farm ? A stout housewife, when the sun- 

 dial points to noon, walks out on the lawn, among the 

 inverted milk-pans, where lies the house-dog stretched 

 under the locust trees, and, turning her face toward 

 the harvest-field gives a long, winding blast on the horn 

 that wakes the echoes down the orchard, and over the 

 meadow, and all along the hills, calling the farmers to 

 their noontide meal. The watch-dog howls at the sum- 

 mons, and the workmen by the brook, and in the sultry 

 grain, toss their cradles by and turn homeward, the 

 heavy oxen saunter away in couj)les, and the horses are 

 unhitched and fastened in the shade by the trough of 

 corn. The farmer, with his stalwart sons, and "the 

 hands," crowd into the kitchen, with their necks bare to 

 the pleasant wind, and the sweat of their labors on their 

 brow. The laugh is light, the Avords are gentle, for they 

 are confined to the simple subjects of the cro23s, the 



