232 SIGNS AND SEASONS 



ground diminishing in the distance. On the fourth 

 day toward night all grew expectant of his return, 

 but it was usually dark before his wagon was heard 

 coming down the hill, or his voice from before the 

 door summoning a light. When the boys got big 

 enough, one after the other accompanied him each 

 year, until all had made the famous journey and 

 seen the great river and the steamboats, and the 

 thousand and one marvels of the far-away town. 

 When it came my turn to go, I was in a great state 

 of excitement for a week beforehand, for fear my 

 clothes would not be ready, or else that it would 

 be too cold, or else that the world would come to 

 an end before the time fixed for starting. The day 

 previous I roamed the woods in quest of game to 

 supply my bill of fare on the way, and was lucky 

 enough to shoot a partridge and an owl, though the 

 latter I did not take. Perched high on a "spring- 

 board" I made the journey, and saw more sights 

 and wonders than I have ever seen on a journey 

 since, or ever expect to again. 



But now all this is changed. The railroad has 

 found its way through or near every settlement, and 

 marvels and wonders are cheap. Still, the essential 

 charm of the farm remains and always will remain: 

 the care of crops, and of cattle, and of orchards, 

 bees, and fowls ; the clearing and improving of the 

 ground; the building of barns and houses; the di- 

 rect contact with the soil and with the elements; 

 the watching of the clouds and of the weather; the 

 privacies with nature, with bird, beast, and plant*, 



