80 Old Days on the Farm 



ambition was that I should be a minister, and per- 

 haps, she felt I was becoming too enamoured of 

 the work of making parallel straight marks on 

 the surface of the earth. I write "parallel" with 

 fear and trembling. Some reader may have seen 

 me plough at some time or other. 



I recall, too, that during the afternoon I dis- 

 cussed with a neighbour, while leaning on the 

 line fence, the most approved methods of dispos- 

 ing of Canada thistles and other pestiferous 

 weeds. Getting along fast, wasn't I? 



Yes, indeed, the day he goes forth to plough 

 for the first time is the beginning of a new era — 

 a momentous occasion — ^in the life of a farmer's 

 son. 



CRrricisM OF my ploughing 



A young man accompanied by a sweet-looking 

 maid, from a neighbouring town was driving along 

 the highway past my field and he stopped to make 

 inquiry as to the location of a certain farm. I 

 overheard the pretty girl ask her companion, as 

 they started off : 



*' What's that boy making marks on the ground 

 for?" 



Poor ignorant innocent! My ploughing re- 

 ferred to as * ' making marks . ' ' She wouldn 't have 

 known a plough from a sawlog and as for the art 

 of turning furrows she had never heard of it. I 

 was disgusted. 



