170 



THE FARMER'S MONTHLY VISITOR 



November, 1842. 



From the Vouth of Shakespeare. 

 Shakspeare's Courtship of Anne Hathaway. 



"How dost like our Anne's singing?" enquired 

 John Hatliaway, when his daughter had left the 

 oliainher to put the children to their beds. 



" Very exceedingly I do assm-e you," replied 

 the youth, with a notable sincerity. 



•' llnuiph !" exclaimed tiie father, as though he 

 were a thiid<ing of something he cared not to 

 give speech to. " Indeed she hath a sweet throat." 

 Nothing more was said on that head at the mo- 

 ment; and they again talked of couutry matters, 

 till his host could not any longer contain his great 

 wondering at his guest's marvellous insight into 

 Buch things, and enquired how he acquired it ; 

 whereupon the other truly answered he got it by 

 questioning of those whose business it was. In 

 good titne the yeoman's blooming daughter re- 

 turned, and busied herself with preparations for 

 su|)per, taking care whc-never she could to have 

 her share in the discourse, which she did with a 

 prettv sprightliness exceedingly agreeable to her 

 youn":,' admirer. Seeing her attempting to move 

 the great table nigher the fiie, he must needs 

 jump up, and with a graceful officiousness seek 

 to do it liimself, the whicii she appeared to ob- 

 ject lo in some manner, anil there was a little ar- 

 guing of the matter betwixt them — the father 

 looking on with a glimmering smile, as if he could 

 see in it something exceeding pleasant. The 

 end was, that the two young people carried the 

 table together, manifestly to their extreme satis- 

 faction. 



In due time the rashers were done, and, with a 

 store of other wholesome victuals, were put on a 

 fair white cloth, that covered the table, and Wil- 

 liam Sbakspeare was pressed, with blunt courtesy 

 by the father, and a more winning persuasiveness 

 by the daughter, to partake of the fare set before 

 him. This he essayed to do with a notable good 

 will. After this the blooming Anne brewed a 

 goodly posset, and whilst they were enjoying it, 

 her father called on her to sing him a song, the 

 which she seemed a little— a very little to hesitate 

 upon, with a sort of pretty coyness, time out of 

 niiiiil customary under similar circumstances — 

 but after the handsome youth had pressed her 

 with an excellent show of rhetoric, she sung a 

 dainty ditty, then ])opular, concerning of "The 

 pretty little Nightingale," and at least one of the 

 listeners thought it most exquisite sweet singing. 

 Then John Hathaway would needs having a song 

 of his guest, to the which his daughter added her 

 entreaties so prettily, the youthful Shakspeare 

 found it impossible to resist, whereupon he com- 

 menced the singing of a favorite love song of 

 the time, beginning: "If Iliad wytt for to cn- 

 dvte." The words were of a pleasant conceit, 

 which gained considerably in adnfirabieness by 

 the manner of his singing, and the time, by means 

 of his rich clear voice, came upon the air a very 

 river of melody. Whether the yeoman liked the 

 song could only be told by the pleasure lurking 

 in the corners of his mouth, and shining quaintly 

 to his halfclosed eyelids, whicli might be inter- 

 preted, he saw more in it than the singer imag- 

 ined—however, that his daughter relished it there 

 could be no questioning, for her smiles were fidl 

 as evident as her praises. 



" Now, friend Will, thee must be a-going," ex- 

 claimed John Hathaway at last, in his usual plain 

 countryman sort of manner. " 'Tis my custom 

 in go to bed with the lamb and ri.se with the lark 

 — an cxcellerit good custom I'll warranted — so 

 ril e'en liid thee a tiiir good night— nevertheless 

 1 will add to it I shall he happy to see thee at all 

 times — and if 1 he not at home perchance Anne 

 will he as hap|>y to see ihee as myself." He said 

 this with a look of luirnor that shone through all 

 the staidness of Ids as|>ect ; and shaking his vis- 

 iter heartily by the hand, he opened the door for 

 his exit. His daughter denied not a word of 

 wliat her father had said. Indeed, her glances, as 

 she bade the youth good night, as plainly said — 

 " come again," as ever was ex|)ressed by a pair 

 of bright eyes since the worhl began. 



Contentment. — Contentment is the purest 

 jiearl of life. With it happiness is of easy at- 

 tainment: without it llie world's wealth catinot 

 purchase it, nor the united philosophy of man- 

 kind secure it. It has an ideal, rather than a 

 real existence. It is influenced more by fancy 

 than by facts— by feelings rather than by cir- 

 cumstanctjs. Thus we find men placed in the 



.same |)osition in society, with equally a|)parent 

 means of enjoying life — equal resources of hap- 

 piness ; and yet do we find the current of their 

 contentment running in far different channels. 

 With these it ripples laughingly along — so bright 

 and clear that it mirrors the beauties of nature 

 on its bosom as it passes; whilst with those it 

 is made turgid and nniddy by the dark cast of an 

 unquiet mind. 



There was much true philosophy in the re- 

 mark of the Spitzbergen savage, who on being 

 jiitied by the cajitain of a whaling ship for the 

 miserable lile which he was compelled to lead, 

 ingenuously re|)lied — "What! — 1 miserable! — 1 

 don't know what misery is. I have always had 

 a fish bone through iny nose, and a jjlenty of 

 train oil to drink. What else could a prince 

 desire;" 



To have a fish bone in his nose, and plenty 

 of train oil to driiik, were the extent of his as- 

 pirations : these he had it in his power always 

 to gratify, and thus was his nfind more at ease 

 than was that of Alexander, when the trophies 

 and trinni|(hs of a world conquered were his! 

 If our desires were bounded by our real wants, 

 and our ambition by oin- actual necessities, how 

 nuich more generally would hapjiiness be dif- 

 fused than we find it! May not the backwoods- 

 man, in his log cabin, with his joyful family 

 around him, be more happy than the king in his 

 palace, surroundeil by servile, though deceptive 

 courtiers ? Does not the honest shoemaker or 

 the carjienter, whose labor furnishes him with 

 the necessaries of life, atid is an antidote to sick- 

 ness — does he not enjoy as much happiness, 

 provided he is blest with the boon of content- 

 ment, as the merchant with his millions of dol- 

 lars, the possession of which dejiends upon the 

 lottery of business, or the sudilen and precarious 

 fluctuations of trade.' And is not the coimtry- 

 man who, out of debt, rides in his homely wag- 

 gon to-day, more contented, and consiequently 

 more happy, than he who whirls by him in the 

 gilt coach, and whose name a|)penrs in the lists 

 of bankrupts to-morro« ? 



In fact, hai)|)incss is more easily found than 

 half the world imagine, and consists not so much 

 in the attainment of power, the accuunilation of 

 wealth, or the possession of place, as in the ra- 

 tional enjoyment of those blessings which never 

 fail to flow from the combined efforts of pru- 

 dence and inrlustry. 



We are told that— 



'• The ahudilering tenant of the frigid rone 

 Boldly proclaims the happiest spot his own — 

 KitoU the Ire.isures of his stormy seas, 

 And his long nights of revelry and e.ise ;" 

 And that 

 "The naked negro, panting at the line, 

 Boasts of his g ilden sands and palmy wtnej 

 Ba.^ks in the glare, or stems the tepid wave. 

 And thanks his gods for all the good they gave !" 

 If Nature has taught such people to be con- 

 tent with their lot, it almost looks like an art of 

 ingratitude towards the Giver of All Good for 

 us to repine at ours. Let us then be content 

 with our situation in life, and we must be happy 

 — always providins; the weather is not so ficessively 

 imrm as it was yesterday ! — V. O. Pic. 



TE\ DAYS IN THE STATE OF MAINE. 



Going into the State of Maine from New 

 Ham|)shire we first strike the county of York. 

 The lower road through Portsmouth passes out- 

 side of Agamenticus mountain through Kittery 

 and old York, and the upper road through Dover 

 passes through the Berwicks inside the Agamen- 

 ticus, and both roads unite at Wells upon an 

 extensive bay of the sea that forms a harbor for 

 small shipping craft. The rail road from Ports- 

 mouth passes through Elliot and South Berwick 

 and Berwick within Agamenticus and avoids the 

 princi|)al village of Wells by a distance of six miles 

 north— Kennebunk more than two tniles — and 

 has its course north of the village of Saco from 

 one half to three fourths of a mile: so that the 

 communication with all those places obliges the 

 traveller to go a distance out of the way oflT the 

 road. So on the other hand the railway (lassfts 

 South Berwick, leaving that iilace some "distance 

 at the north on the Portsmouth loute: but a 

 branch from the Dover or ujiper route passes 

 directly through Somersworth and unites the two 

 railways in one soon after either shall enter the 

 State of Maine, It is said such an arrangement 



has been made in the two lines as will leave it 

 o|)lional for the traveller freely to lake either 

 road and pass to Boston the way that best suits 

 him at the same price. These rail roads, as they 

 run a great part of the distance near to the sea, 

 will forever be in competition in the summer 

 season with the steamboats in the cheaper con- 

 veyance of passengers, and will never be exten- 

 sively used in the transportation of heavy mer- 

 chandize, inasmuch as that will be mo.st conve- 

 niently done for many of the towns by water 

 communication. 



Entering the State of Maine over the turnpike 

 from Dover at South Berwick, a di.stance of four 

 miles, upon an eminence in the rear of the 

 village faces towards us the Academy biulding, 

 a little to the right of which is the ancient man- 

 sion and farm buildings of Judge Hayes. If as 

 we pass through this village we <lo not always 

 meet the tnan, the a|ppcarauce of the fine fields 

 about his premises which slope in front fiom the 

 Academy hill reminds us how much the whole 

 of this region owes to his industry, his taste and 

 his public spirit for the improvements which 

 have been made in Agriculture. This gentle- 

 man, engaged in a busy profession with moie 

 work in that than most men would be willing to 

 perform, and deriving from this profession more 

 profits than woidd be necessary to support an 

 easy living, has nevertheles.s, for the love he hears 

 to agricultural improvements, pursued the busi- 

 ness of the farm for several years without any 

 abatement of zeal. His farm and his improve- 

 ments too have been upon even a more extended 

 scale than is usual tor many wealthy yeomen 

 where they have followed this as their exclusive 

 business. The Judge goes to the field with his 

 workmen whenever he can be released from 

 other engagements : he takes these workmen 

 into his own family in addition to his own nu- 

 merous young children ; and the excellent mother 

 of those children, some of whom are already the 

 ornaments of other circles where they move, 

 submits to the additional care and responsibility 

 which must devolve on her in consequence of 

 the fiuui without murmuring, because the passion 

 and the pride of the husband concentrate in 

 that business and calling without which the 

 country cannot prosper and the population in- 

 crease. 



Judge Hayes is a (pioneer in his neighborhood 

 in the improvement of swamp meadows and in 

 the making of com|)ost manure. His example 

 is seen in the improved condition not only of the 

 fiehls of his own town, hut in the greater pro- 

 duction of the bordering towns of New Hamp- 

 shire. Berwick is situated upon one of the 

 navigable branches of the Piseataqua. as Dover 

 at the distance of foiu- miles in a direct line is 

 situated upon Cocheco, another branch of the 

 same river. Between the two rivers and bor- 

 dering upon Dover on the west and Berwick on 

 the east lies the town of Somersworth. It will 

 do any man's heart good to look upon the irn- 

 |)roved farms of this ancient town — the fields of 

 grain and potatoes and grass. Hay and potatoes 

 here are always a profitable crop, because they 

 are shipped tor a market at little expense. The 

 vicinage of the salt water seems peculiarly to 

 fiivor these crops. The orchards too, as well 

 from this cause as from their probable better 

 cultivation, are here more vigorous and exuber- 

 ant than ap|>le trees farther in the interior. 

 Dressing for the ground with rock and seaweed, 

 with muscles and marsh mud, is here procured 

 in abundance by the farmers who choose it. The 

 farm of Samuel Hale, Esq. of Portsmouth, which 

 is more than two himdred yeai-s old, directly 

 fronts, upon the west side of the Berwick river, 

 the village of South Berwick: its fields show a 

 richness, after the great crops of the season have 

 been taken away, that prove the next year's crop 

 will not be less for the great amount taken a«vay 

 the present season. The two Wentworth farms 

 with some others nearer Dover lie on the way. 

 The crops of the fall had genorally been taken 

 off before we pas.sed. The business now going 

 on was the fall sowing of grass fields which in 

 this place and in some others has been exchang- 

 ed for spring sowing; the work being completed 

 after the plough and the harrow witli the heavy 

 roller m.iking the field as smooth as the floors of 

 our houses— the ditching and draining of swamps 

 and low groimds— the tearing and uprooting of 

 stumps — the turning up of heavy clay grounds 



