Songs of the Fields 



of some "progressive" farmers. These fields are 

 enclosed in straight wire fences, guiltless of a leaf 

 for shelter, so they offer migrant musicians no in- Songless 

 ducement to locate there. All the season tortured Pastures 

 horses and cattle graze in early morning and even- 

 ing, and at noontime stand in restless groups, striv- 

 ing to drive away the flies, and find shelter from 

 each other's bodies ; for neither cattle nor horses lie 

 w r hen they have finished grazing unless there is 

 shade. To rest in the open would be to place them- 

 selves between two fires the reflected heat from 

 the earth and the direct heat from the sun. 



"He maketh me to lie down in green pastures," 

 I quoted, when passing such a field on a scorching 

 August day. 



"He sendeth His rain to the just as well as to 

 the unjust," quoted my critic, in reply. "You 

 know if I were He, I would not. I would send 

 rain only to pastures with trees in them, and burn 

 all the remainder." 



So we agreed to keep watch as we drove across 

 the country, making these illustrations, and see 

 how much we could learn of the disposition of the 

 farmers by the manner in which they provided for 

 their stock and their birds. Soon it became ap- 

 parent that the man who stripped a pasture of 

 every tree treated his family with no greater con- 

 sideration. There was scarcely a tree anywhere on 

 his premises. In one place we counted four big 

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