Seo. 14.] FARM-nOUSES. 



387 



go now ; I will finish your work."' " And Mary, my dear girl, don't «>'o 

 empty handed," says mother; "you know from experience how sweet little 

 'lelioacies, brought by friendly hands to the side of a sick-bed, are to a poor 

 invalid." 



" Il^'tty, my dear, if you have done your dishes, you must get your cards 

 and make a few rolls, for 1 am quite out of grey yarn, and we must have 

 some more stockings in the work. Old man, don't cut that pumpkin too 

 thick.— Ada, daughter, get a plate of doughnuts and some of those nice fall 

 pippins and set on the table ; I guess these boys can eat a few while they are 

 cypiicring. I do wonder if you have got light enough. Sol, get another 

 caudle, I am sure such industrious boys ought to have all the light they 

 want." 



Tims, my readers, I have given you a slight outline of a farmer's liouse, 

 such as it used to be, such as it might be, and such as it always should be, 

 and such as, I am proud to say, many an American fanner can boast of even 

 in these degenerate days of " boughten stuff' gowns" and lack-a-daisical 

 lounging of farmer's girls, who arc miseral)lo and tired of nothing to do. 

 How do you like the iiicture ? K Avell, imitate it. It is a hajjpiness easily 

 acquired. 



It is easy to imagine the suiToundings of such a liome as the one described 

 above. And as there is probably no better exponent of the farmer's life 

 than the farmer's home, wo propose to present the portrait of a home quite 

 in contrast to the preceding one. We are sorry that such as this are altoge- 

 ther too common. Here is the sketch : 



A square brown house; a chimney coming out of the middle of a roof; 

 not a tree nearer than the orchard, and not a tluwer at the door. At one end 

 projects a kitclien ; from the kitchen projects a wood-shed and wagon-cover, 

 occupied at night by hens ; beyond the wood-shed a hog-pen, fragrant and 

 musical. Proceeding no further in this direction, we look directly across the 

 road, to where the barn stands, like the hull of a great black ship of the line, 

 with its portholes spread threateningly upon the fort opposite, out of one of 

 which a horse has thrust his head for the i)urpose of examining the strength 

 of the works. An old ox-sled is turned up against the wall close by, where 

 it will have the privilege of rotting. This whole establishment was contrived 

 with a single eye to utility. The barn was built in such a manner that its 

 deposits might bo convenient to the road which divides the farm, while the 

 sty was made an attachment of the house for convenience in feeding its 

 occupants. 



We enter the house at the back door, and find the family at dinner in the 

 kitchen. A kettle of soap-grease is stowing upon the stove, and the fumes 

 of this, mingled with those tiiat were generated by boiling the cabbugo 

 which we see upon the table, and by perspiring men in shirt-slccves, and by 

 b(i(it> that have forgotten, or do not care where they have been, nnike the air 

 anvthing but agreeable to those who are not accustomed to it. Tills is the 

 place wlierc the family live. They cook everything hero for themselves oud 



