22 



THE LANCASTER FARMER. 



[February 



what low in specific gravity and per cent, of 

 cream, but is over the average in cheese pro. 

 duction. The Jersey is remarkable for pro- 

 portion of cream, averaging 35 per cent, and 

 giving a value of dairy products incomparable 

 to any other breed in our experience. The 

 native or common cow of Ontario, not 

 Canada properly, because Quebec in particular 

 stands distinct in her class of dairy cows, 

 takes a high place in value of annual produce 

 for ordinary dairy purposes, and, along with 

 the Shorthorn grade, is peculiarly tlie dairy 

 cow of the country." 



LEAVING THE FARM. 



So, 'William, we must go to town, and leave the 



dear old place. 

 Your hair is gray, your form is bent, and wrinkled is 



your face ; 

 And when I stand before the glass to put my collar 



on, 

 I scarce can see to pin it straight, my sight is so near 



gone. 

 The children say we're growing old, too old for such 



hard work ; 

 And Daniel he will take the place— you know he's 



not a shirk — 

 And that young wife of his, I think, is smart as a 



queen bee ; 

 She's light of foot, and light of heart, and good to 



you and me. 

 They're sure to keep the farm in shape, and not let 



things run down ; 

 But I'm afraid we'll never be content to live in town. 



You know since Mary married we've been there on 



and off. 

 And once I sta5-ed a month or more, the spring I had 



that cough. 

 Mary was good and loving, and her husband he was 



kind; 

 But I got so tired and homesick I feared I'd lose my 



It wasn't lack of company — some one was always 



there — 

 You know that folks who live in town have lots of 



time to spare. 

 The church was very handy, and I liked the preacher 



too ; 

 And I 'tended all the meetings ; what else had I 



to do ? 

 But oh 1 I longed to hear the cows come lowing 



down the lane, 

 And to hear the horses champing as they ate the 



golden grain ; 

 And to hear the proud hens clucking, and the mother 



turkeys call — 

 The pleasant music of the farm, I did so miss it all 

 And I longed to see ray garden, and the apple trees 



in bloom. 

 And to pull the clover blossoms and breathe their 



sweet perfume ; 

 And, William, you'll be like me ; you need not laugh 



or frown. 

 For you'll never be contented to settle down in town. 



Just think about it, William, it's forty years and 



more 

 Since you and I together left old Ohio's shore. 

 I mind as if 'twere yesterday, my mother's tear-wet^ 



face. 

 The firm clasp of my father's hand, my sister's 



warm embrace ; 

 And oh ! I never shall forget how the prairie, wide 



and vast, 

 Stretched out before me, when you said, " Well, 



dear, here's home at last." 

 The words seemed such a mockery, where nothing 



looked like home, 

 The very clouds seemed farther off, and high: 



The orchard and the meadow, the farm-house and 



the barn. 

 All the past come up before me, I can see the cabin 



small. 

 The little low-roofed cabin, that barely held us all. 

 And the lonely, lonely prairie, with not a house in 



eight; 

 Ah ! the tears that wet my pillow when you thought 



I slept at night. 



Yes, it's true we soon had neighbors ; and how 



homelike it did seem. 

 When of evenings from our doorway we could see 



their candles gleam. 

 Looking 'round upon the prairie, where we watched 



that lonely light, 

 Now from many a friendly window shine the earth 



stars clear and bright. 

 But no beacon to the sailor, homeward bound upon 



the sea. 

 Ever shone with brighter luster than that twinkling 



light to me. 

 Then the children kept on coming 'till the small 



house overflowed. 

 And their childish love and laughter helped us all 



along our road ; 

 How we toiled both late and early, and how through 



all our days, 

 The dear God blessed and prospered u.s ; to Him be 



all the praise ; 

 Then when we built the new house, what happy 



times we had. 

 Peace and plenty dwelt among us, and the days 



were short and glad — 

 I know we had our trials, crops would fail and sick- 



And before death's awful presence, we have bowed 

 in anguish dumb ; 



But we comforted each other, for we said, "His 

 word is sure." 



Though we walk amid the shadows, still " His pro- 

 mises endure." 



Now the shadows are all lifted, we are in sweet 



" Beulah land." 

 And His presence is about us, we can feel His guid- 

 ing hand. 

 It is hard to leave the farm— but the children we are 



grown— 

 As we were when just we wedded, j-ou and I are now 



alone. 

 But oh I the difference to us ! then our lives had just 



begun. 

 And our life-work lay before us ; now our life-work's 



almost done. 

 Why, the sun is setting, William. How fast the 



days go by, 

 See those clouds of blue and crimson lying on the 



western sky. 

 This world is very beautiful ; sometimes it seems to 



I can hardly bear to leave it ; and then, dear, when 

 I see 



How feeble I am getting, I feel ready quite to go. 



The children do not need me, and you'll come soon 

 I know . 



Low spiriied? Ah, no? I'm not. "He doeth all 

 things well." 



And happy and God fearing the children round us 

 dwell. 



And I'm ready for the flitting, like the leaves in au- 

 tumn brown — 



But I'm afraid we'll never be content to live in town. 

 —Mrs. E. V. Wilson, in Chicago Inter-Ocean. 



CONTRIBUTIONS. 



Now i 



look around me on the 



ds of waving 



LAYING OUT ROADS. 



Editor Lancaster Farmer : There ap- 

 peared several articles on road-making from 

 the pen of P. S. R. in the Parmer, which, 

 with your permission, I will make some re- 

 marks on. As he says, it is very desirable to 

 have good roads of easy grade, and wherever 



it can be done, steep assents should be avoided, 

 but if P. S. R. will please to consider the 

 matter fairly, he will discover that it is a 

 much easier matter to make good roads on 

 paper, than it is for a jury to run them 

 through their neighbor's farms or fields ! I 

 have served on many road views and reviews, 

 and I know the difliculties in connection 

 therewith. 



Jury men are generally reasonable men, and 

 naturally have a fellow-feeling for their neigh- 

 bors, they do not like to run roads through a 

 farm, cutting into all manner of shapes, or 

 plots, that it would be diflicultfor a geometri- 

 cian to give name to all tliose shapes, 

 and making the farmers' fields very incon- 

 venient to fence and cultivate, but rather put 

 the public in trouble to get over elevations if 

 not too steep, the best way they can. 



I might give many instances where we had 

 difficulties in laying out roads, but I will 

 mention only a few. 



One time a jury was ordered to view and 

 lay out a new road of about three miles in 

 length, from a mill to a point on another 

 public road. There were three public roads 

 centering and passing the mill, the route led 

 us through four or five farms, nearly the 

 whole distance through cultivated fields, cut- 

 ing the farms into all shapes. At one farm 

 we nearly had a fight between the miller and 

 tlie farmer. At another place they threaten- 

 ed to set the dogs on us. Of course our re- 

 port said— no roaa I We might have run 

 from the point at the mill on a public road 

 about half a mile, and then run to the ending 

 poiut on far better ground, and the private 

 property would not have been injured nearly 

 so much, but there already was a public road 

 nearly in the same direction; and the miller 

 did not want it there, but he wanted it to 

 start at the mill. The result was no road. 



A road was petitioned for to start from a 

 poiut on a public road, to run over a steep 

 hill to a point on another public road. This 

 was up a steep hill, where there was no objec- 

 tions by the owners of the ground, and 

 through woodland that can never be culti- 

 vated, unless terraced as are some hilly vine- 

 yards in Switzerland, where they carry the 

 fertilizers, as it were " upstairs on their - 

 shoulders." Here we could have located a 

 road on slightly elevating ground by making 

 a detour of three-fourths of a mile, but it was 

 not wanted there, and the petitioner desired 

 a short cut straight up the hill; but it will 

 bother dogs and cats to climb it without put- 

 ting out their claws to hold by. People on 

 foot or horseback may go up and down, but 

 hardly empty wagons or carriages. But as it 

 was not doing damage to private property, 

 and would be convenient for the owners of 

 tlie land to get their timber down, so we gave 

 them the road. 



People travelling the road may wonder 

 what kind of an ignorant jury could ever lay 

 out such a road. Of course not knowing all 

 the circumstances that influenced the jury. 



The Borough of Columbia petitioned for a 

 jury to have a street opened through a farm 

 adjoining. This would necessitate the romov- 

 al of an old building and a cut of perhaps six 

 or eight feet close to the house to make the 

 street of an ordinary grade, and a street that 

 would be used more than any in the borough, 



