NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



4G1 



For the New England Farmer. 

 FARMERS' SONS. 



When a 3-oung man leaves his home in the coun- 

 try for a less desirable one in the city, or else- 

 where, the inference, as a general thing, is either 

 that he is "spoiled" by indulgence on the part of 

 the parents, or by certain influences which may 

 have fallen upon him, led to despise labor on a 

 farm, and induced to seek a less laborious and more 

 easy mode of life. That these are not the only 

 causes which induce boys to leave a good home 

 and farm, the following sketch may perhaps show. 



"I am really very glad to see you, Mrs. Gove, 

 this afternoon. Do you know that it is nearly a 

 whole year since I've had this pleasure, and you 

 my nearest neighbor?" 



"I did not think it was so long, but — but, I have 

 a great deal of care." 



"Yes, you certainly must have. Let us take our 

 work and sit on the piazza ; it is much cooler there 

 and secluded from the sun." 



"Can we see our meadow from there, Mrs. Nor- 

 ton?" 



"Let me see — 0, yes, very well." 



"Mr. Gove, with the men and Billy, have gone 

 down to the lower field fencing, and he wished me 

 to have an eye on the meadow, as that fence is all 

 down and our cattle are in the road. I see you 

 have finished planting, Mrs. Norton. You have 

 every thing done in season, and yet you never 

 seem hurried, or fretted. You must take comfort." 



"AVhy, as to that, we feel that there is nothing 

 worth doing but is worth well doing ; and feeling 

 thus, we own but little land, a small farm com- 

 pared with yours, and we find no difficulty in hav- 

 ing our work done at the right time." 



"Yes, — and I can hardly realize, Mrs. Norton, 

 that this is the same place where I played, when 

 a child, 'tis so changed, and so beautifully changed; 

 these handsome trees — why in this very spot twen- 

 ty years ago a sand bank 'twas, in which nothing 

 grew but dock and tansey. I used to get the 

 double tansey for grandmother, to color her cheese 

 with. I am not surprised that my Billy should 

 say, as he did to-day, that he was never so happy 

 as when he was under the ash tree down by the 

 spring. Really, Mrs. Norton, that is the only one 

 near our house, and that is fast going to decay. — 

 You have vines, trees and shrubs, and beautiful 

 flowers ; why, it seems to me these things must 

 tend to make home pleasant." 



"You are right, Mrs. Gove; we feel that by cul- 

 tivating a taste for the beautiful in nature, we im- 

 prove the character and soften the heart." 



"I know you are right, and not for my sake, but 

 on Billy's account, I wish I could make Mr. Gove 

 think as we do. But perhaps I do wrong to speak 

 in this way, for Mr. Gove has more care now than 

 any one man ought to have, and I know that he 

 has no time for any thing but barely to take care 

 of what he has, without making any improve- 

 ments. But I am in hopes when William grows 

 up, that he will get time to set trees and make 

 our home pleasant, for a more ardent lover'of na- 

 ture I surely never saw." 



"Mrs. Gove, of course your husband knows his 

 own business, but I've often thought that it would 

 be for your interest all round, if your husband had 

 less land to care for. I mean, if he Avould sell 

 some, it certainly would lessen his care as well as 

 your own." 



"Perhaps so, but really Mr. Gove does 'nt think 

 it looks just right for a man to part with property 

 which has been handed down from father to son, 

 until it is now in the fourth generation. 'Tis true 

 I have a good deal of care, and must work hard, 

 but I have no reason to complain, though 'twould 

 be very nice, what little time I have to sew, to sit 

 in such a cool, delightful place as this. Perhaps 

 I'm all wrong, and think too much of these 

 things." 



Mrs. Gove was returning from the visit to her 

 neighbor, which they had mutually enjoyed, when 

 a pat on the shoulder caused her to exclaim* "Are 

 you tired, Billy?" as she gazed earnestly at that 

 pale face, and sought to read the language of those 

 dark and handsome eyes. "Are you tired, my 

 dear ? ' ' 



"Yes, mother, 0, 1 am very tired ; for don't you 

 think after I had helped father as long as he had 

 any thing for me to do, I went into that pretty 

 grove where sis and I played the week before she 

 died, and there, right by a little mossy bank, was 

 a little larch) tree, and mother, I wanted very 

 much to dig it up and bring it home, and set it out 

 by your bed-room window. I am sure, mother, it 

 would look beautifully there, and then I never 

 should see it without thinking of little Alice." 



"Did your father take it up for you?" said Mrs. 

 Gove, as she strove to force back the tears that 

 would come. 



"No, mother; I took the spade and tried; I 

 dug all round it, but I could'nt start it a bit, when 

 I tried to pull it up, and then I asked father if he 

 would let Mike take it up for me. You know, 

 mother, that Mike is a good hand, for he helped 

 take up and set out all Mr. Norton's trees." 



"And what did your father say, my dear?" 



"He said, 'don't be so foolish, child — we've no 

 time to fool away,' or something of that kind. I 

 wish i" had strength to pull it up; but I don't know 

 as father would let me set it out. Do you think 

 it is foolish, mother?" 



"My dear child, your father has a great deal of 

 care and anxiety, and you heard him say this 

 morning, when the man called to tell him his fence 

 all lay flat, and everybody's cattle were in, that 

 his work was driving him continually; so perhaps 

 father thought 'twould be wrong to spend the time 

 that is now so precious to us, in doing what we 

 could get along without doing." 



"Well, mother, does father take much comfort? 

 He is always behindhand, and he never finishes all 

 the jobs he begins. Why, don't you know last 

 summer we had so much to do that we did not get 

 time to hoe that piece of corn between the woods, 

 and I heard father say myself, that it did not be- 

 gin to pay for the plowing. And mother, you 

 know I heard it talked over at the store, how fa- 

 ther had to pay for that strip of land he bought of 

 Mr. Chase, twice, because he did not get time to 

 make the deed, and Mr. Chase died before 'twas 

 done. When I hear people say to father, ' you are 

 the richest man in town,' or, ' you own the most 

 land,' why, I think, well, I don't see as father is 

 any happier than the neighbors, that have n't half 

 as much. Why, I heard father say to-day that he 

 was harrassed to death." 



The night after the above conversation, as Bil- 

 ly was quietly sleeping, and Mr. Gove sat with his 

 arms folded, and his eyes resting on the wall, Mrs. 

 Gove asked her husband, in rather a timid tone, if 



