il\)t lavnux's iHont!)hj lUsitov. 



23 



we flnsc('iulK<l tlie Iiil! uiid saw n man splitting 

 the lijlls whenci! his I'oiii had receiilly heeri cut. 

 " Ahhoiinh iKMi-, yoii ^f;i3 ho is not lur the auc- 

 tion ; ami, Boh. .-iDill |ih)M;;hinir is a heuefit. I 

 liave tiii-il it, and i-onhl sei.' the next year exacily 

 where 1 left off. What a line pair of oxen he 

 follows ; and see, Uol), the wliip is over his slionl- 

 ders. There is his house, and his wile and 

 daughter, no doulit; the dinner things are done 

 u\> and they are };"'"S 'o spend the afternoon 

 with a neiniihor ; plain and neat and not killed 

 with lacing, I wish (he temperance people would 

 take this matter also in hand, aiiH erudiuale the 

 residue of tij;ht lacing." 



"Ohserve," said niy imcle, "those robins: 

 they have liseu and lodged upon the fence. As 

 soon as the plou^hni:m ;;ets out of tlie way they 

 will resort to the new turned furrow for the 

 worms. There they iro ilown. 1 have always 

 since a child had a feeling of regard for the 

 roliin. Like other hoys when I thought myself 

 a man Iiecanse I could tire off a liawling piece, 

 1 shot them ; hut it went against my conscience. 

 1 believe that the birds all together do the farmer 

 more good than harm. I put up boxes for the 

 wrens. I love to see the swallow skim the fields, 

 and of a still simset after a shower in summer, 

 how delighilnl is the round note of the robin. 

 It takes me hack to my childhood when I read 

 and believed the story of the children in the 

 wood, and 1 do not envy that man his feelings 

 wlio does not sympathize or anlhorize tliese leel- 

 iuis. How wantonly we destroy the birds! 

 When I went south and visited the scat of the 

 great Washington. I observed the robin, ihe crow, 

 blackbii-d and the thrush (|iiile tame, at the very 

 door of the dwelling. ' We never molest them,' 

 said the gardener, 'and tht-y build ne.ir the house 

 to avoid the hawks.' I saw a flock of crows too 

 in the corn fiehl, which was just out of the 

 ground. J inijnired of an .aged negro if the 

 crows would not pick irp the corn. ' Oh no, 

 massa, he alter de worm ; be no touch 'e corn 

 when he can get 'e worm.' I have thought, Bob, 

 that- we do many things without reflection, and 

 the destruction "of birds is one of them. I have 

 never had .any corn pulled up by the crows. 

 I've seen them often in my tield, but the cut 

 worm has caused the re-planting of many a hill. 

 It is something less th;m twenty miles Irom tliis 

 tavern at the cross roads yonder to the place of 

 our destination. We will get our dinner there 

 and give .Sclim his also." 



My nncle had been there before; every thing 

 was as usual at a long established liouse, and in 

 time we jint forward again. 



Our road now lay throngh a less improved 

 tract of country ; but little attracted notice, only 

 now and then a few wonls. " Tliere's woods 

 eiiongh ; w by do our lads go to the west for 

 woods? and there's a tine stream to saw the 

 tiudier. Good land that! there is two feet of 

 soil in that swaitip. I remember when tny best 

 meadow was very much as that is;" and so on. 

 The fact was, my nncle lia<l just had his dinner, 

 and with a good" appetite be " had done justict 

 to it," as he remarked as he took the third slice 

 upon his plate. " We must lay in. Bob, for the 

 night; (iir we shall stop at a place where they 

 are a little out .it the elbows!" 



We riaclied I lie pasture lot — saw the oxen 

 and the lieifeis. " Tliey are three quarters Dur- 

 ham, Boll, and my choice, red color. There is 

 much in the selection of slock," saiil my uncle ; 

 " the books are full of definitions ; the jiictiu-es 

 are better, and experience best of all. One thing 

 we do not imdeistand, and there is much in it, 

 which is what is termed the handling of cattle. 

 For oxen the best are black, but they are less 

 gentle than other colors. But after looking i( 

 they are not too sliy. leel them ; there is a great 

 diflerence, and that is parlicnlarly impoilant in 

 cows," s.iid my uncle. " But what sort of feel 

 should they have, uncle ?" " Why, Bob, soft and 

 smooth, like, like— like the neck or check of 

 I'eggy Tluifty, then, if you know what that i.s." 



" We siiall only have time to reacli the tavern 

 befoie dark. Do not let Ihe cattle want for salt," 

 said m\ uncle to the young man who had the 

 care of^ them. " In about two weeks drive them 

 down." He lifted the reins, and we hurried 

 away. "You see, Bob, thai we move fiister lli.in 

 we have during Ihe day. The horse knows that 

 night is near, anil all caltle should rest at night. 

 I say Ibis, because some people in hot weather 



have ai) idea that it is better to travel at night to 

 escape flies and the lieat ; if this is pursued, 

 I heir Iwasts gel no rest, and they soon break 

 down." 



.\ sign of the glolte with one staple and the 

 |)ost bowed, and a weather-beaten bouse, with 

 wooden panes to some of the broken lights w;is 

 near. "This is tlie place," said my uncle, "and 

 it w ill give lis an estimation of our own homes 

 bi'liire morning." No one appeared to attend to 

 our horse; mid as we took him from onr car- 

 liaL^e, "lake the rope here," said my uncle. — 

 "You'll find none in the stable, and do not let 

 them give Selim any ol' llietr new corn, or we 

 shall find him down in the morning with the 

 colic. Allend to him yourself, Bob; put him in 

 a stable where the ground is level, and let him 

 have rope to lie down; if the hay is tolerable, I 

 ilo not care about the rest. If we would have 

 things well done, we must do them ourselves: if 

 tolerably well, we must see to Ihem." 



I fbniid, on going in, my uncle at home, seated 

 at the kilelien fire, for the evening was cold. 

 " Yon have come upon us rather unawares," 

 said the woman of the house ; the butcher did 

 not call to-day, and the people that dined here 

 nearly cleared us out of fresh meat." I took my 

 seat, and said nothing. "Poor crops this year, 

 'Squire," said the landlord, as he came in ; and 

 the dangliter, who looked fresh-washed, now 

 blended with the group. " ^Ve can give you a 

 cup of coffee and a slice of corned beef, and a 

 piece of cheese and bread," said the wife, as she 

 put a dish, with the slices of beef in it, before 

 the fire; and as my uncle bowed, she disap- 

 peareil. 



The note of preparation reigned, and home 

 came the son with a gun, accompanied by a lean 

 long legged yellow tyke of a dog, with while 

 eyes, and a re.d sheep-chasing look. No sooner 

 dill this cur enter the room than he smelt the 

 only meat in the house, and making strait for the 

 dish, those convenient slices disappeared in a 

 nioinenl. My nncle smiled and remarked to me, 

 J^lhat will do him good." Tlie good woman 

 enleied with coffee — pot in hand. The dog 

 made for tlie door; she kicked at him — all |uir- 

 siied, but he had got his supper, and was oft'. 

 "What shall we do, 'Sipiire.' we are worse ofl^ 

 than before. Can you make out w ith some hasty 

 pudding? Our meal is from the new corn." 

 "Notliing better," sjiid my uncle, "audi have 

 Barlow's authority to boot." The jiot was hung 

 on ; the water boiled, meal added, and pudding 

 sputtered in the pot. The mother came down 

 from the chamber, where the dangliter still was, 

 anil taking a salt box of about a |)int from the 

 closet, put in a handliil ; gave it a stir, and left 

 the room. The daughter followed, and did like- 

 wise. The landlord now came in and tried his 

 hand at a stir, remarking, "the last we liad was 

 not sailed. I'll see to that," and gave it the third 

 piiining. He shortly left the room, when my 

 uncle rose and said, "Bob, it is now onr turn," 

 and he emptied the box, finishing with a stir. 

 The cort'ee was made, the talile laid in the next 

 room, anil the hasty pudding swung to the centre 

 of the table. It was served round, ;ind the whole 

 liimily seated. The landlord first tasied. "Turk's 

 Island!" said he, "who salted this puddini;?" 

 " Why, as Ihe last was forgotten, 1 did," said the 

 wife ; "and 1," said the daughter;" " I," said the 

 landlord; "and I too," said my uncle, "as I saw 

 it was the fashion." The supper was made witli- 

 onl the pudding, when my uncle said that he 

 wished to return liy the lower road, and inquired 

 if" ihere was a public house. "No," said the 

 Inndlord, "there is a new tavern at about twenty 

 five mile.s, where yon cross the river, and an old 

 acquaintance about ten miles oft", if yon intend 

 to leave before l)reakfast." "'Phat is onr iiilen- 

 lioii," s.iid my uiiide. " I do not know who these 

 new peiqile are; tiiey came from the upper pari 

 of the .Slale, and are said to be lately married." 

 ".\ new laooni sweeps clean," said my uncle 

 Jacob. Our day's drive sonmlly invited repose : 

 we retired, ami "nature's sof"t nurse soon sealed 

 our eyelids up." 



The fine moining that followed found ns on 

 the road soon after Ihe sim rose. We now looked 

 homeward by another road. "I told yon. Bob," 

 said my uncle. " that we should have somelhiug 

 as an oll'sel — it is rare that we find such a house 

 in our State: but all men are not Solomons, and 

 we best learn bv coiitrasf. I can geuerallv •.'uc>s, ' 



saiil my uncle, " what a bouse is as soon as I sco 

 the woman. They are essential every where, 

 bill at no place more so than in a tavern. In my 

 journey .sonili I put up at a new tavern. It was 

 dark when I arrived, and a great noise was made. 

 The bell was rung for the lioy to take my lioise; 

 it was rung for him to bring in my trunk — rung 

 to set the supper table, and again when it was 

 ready. The fiire was worse than that of last 

 nighl. Some strong cheese was poked under 

 my nose five or six tiiiies. I was rung up to bed, 

 and bitten ibron;;li the night. They told me Ihe 

 next moriiiiig, which was fretted v\ith iiell ring- 

 ing, that they expected to make that a first rate 

 house befiire long. " For some things," said I, 

 " it is unrivalled already, and i have no doubt I 

 paid an additional fiftv cents for this doiible- 

 iieaded sliot of a compliment." 



My uncle was in good humor alw;iys, but lie 

 appearoil gayer than usual. When we liroke 

 our fast we f"ound his old schoolmates. The 

 hearty welcome, the flitesaiid fortunes of school- 

 mates, the laurel and the cypress, were blended 

 in the reminiscences of tliese long known fi lends 

 briefly met and brieny parted perhaps forever. 

 My nncle said but little — we rolled on ; a school 

 by the way side broke loose before us. The little 

 boys came onl, and as we passed, they took off 

 their hats and bowed low. The little girls too, 

 curtesied, and my uiicIg uncovered his bead, and 

 bowed rt'peatedly. A fine young woman, the 

 teacher, followed — locked the door of the iiouse, 

 and took her way towards the nearest house ; — 

 this was doubtle.«s the instructor. "There is no 

 country on the t"ace of the earth like ours," said 

 my uncle, "and if we adhere to the admoiiilions 

 of our great Washington and hold fiist together, 

 onr destinies are magnificent. Our women are 

 generally more intelligent than those of any 

 other naiion that exists, or that ever existed ; ami 

 the women make the men. Washington and 

 Napoleon each acknowlcdtred their obligations 

 to maternal instruction. A mother's precepts 

 abide with us always, and are frequently, under 

 Providence, our most solid fonnilatiou in the 

 quicksands of life. Nowhere, Bob, nowhere are 

 found such women as are found in onr country. 

 I was thinking, Boli, last night, and indeed I have 

 thought of it before, that as I am getting old, and 

 find it more difticult every day to attend to my 

 aft'airs, I hope 1 am not mistaken in the smile 

 that fine girl of" farmer Thril"ty sent into the car- 

 riage yesterday morning. I want some kindred 

 blood to do the last sad oflice of life for me, and 

 to witness the long embrace which the grave 

 gives to mortality. Say then. Bob, if it is worth 

 voiir while lo come and take care of me while I 

 remain, and take my farm anil place when 1 

 shall have gone ?" 



I\Iy uncle paused, and just at this moment wo 

 came to the new inn at the river: a fine looking 

 young man took the horse. My nncle entered, 

 and as I approached the door, who should come 

 out but my cousin Mary oftering me her cheek 

 with "Robert, I am so glad to see yon." "That 

 is your uncle .)acob, IMary : he docs iiot know 

 yon, for yon know mat it is nearly foity years 

 since bespoke to your father. I will keep Ihe 

 secret of who von are; and that is >oin husband, 

 tell biin also." " Our meal was excellent, and my 

 uncle did it justice. Mary kept out of the room 

 until the apple pie came, when she came in be- 

 hind my uuide, placed it on the table, look his 

 plate aiid wiped it with a clean napkin. My 

 uncle looked up— his knife and fork fell— he 

 drew a short breath. Mary left the room ; ho 

 turned round and looked after her. I oft'ercd 

 him a slice of the pie; he said nothing— his face 

 was first flushed : the color bail now left it. "Tell 

 me. Hob, oh do tell me, if you know who is 

 ih.-it!" "Thai," said 1, "is my cousin Mary. She 

 has been married but last month, and has com- 

 menced upon this little spot here." "Lit us go, 

 let us go," sai.l be, "I cannot stay." We were 

 soon rea.lv, and when we were about to depart, 

 my uncle "pulled out his purse; but cousin Mary, 

 who now came liill hefiire and near, said, "Oh 

 no; we are so pleased lo see Robert beie that 

 we are paid." I'nclc- .lacob indled out his band- 

 kerchief, atfccied to blow his nose, and d'd not 

 lake it aw.iv limn his liice until we left the I ou.«e. 

 He pressed' M.iry's hand as he turned away, and 

 as we crossed over the stream, I saw him take 

 the old scissors from the little chain around his 

 neck and throw ibeni into the water. He wos 



