40 



MR. Oliver's address 



that surround it, shall combine all that is useful, convenient 

 and comfortable for its inmates. The smallest house can be 

 so made. You will find that the beautiful in architecture, 

 though distinct from the useful, is in harmony with it, and 

 that they each aid and adorn the other. I do not say that ev- 

 ery farmer must go to work and demolish his old house, and 

 put up anew and elegant one. That might be a pleasant 

 thing to the lumbermen, the masons, and the carpenters, — but 

 might not be so well for the farmer's pocket. " Fun for one, 

 but death" to the other, as said the frogs in the fable, might 

 apply to such case. But I do say that when he does build one, 

 or when he alters, or adds to the old one, he need not perse- 

 vere in perpetuating all that is homely and tasteless. Many 

 farmers, I know, take the "old homestead." Well, that "old 

 homestead" hath many delightful associations connected with 

 it, from "the old oaken bucket that hung in the well," and 

 the row of old beehives that murmured beyond the wall, to 

 the pleasant faces that clustered round the family hearth. But 

 the "old homesteads," when repaired, as they must occasion- 

 ally be, may be repaired by the eye and hand of good sense 

 and good taste. Its associations shall be all the more pleas- 

 ant for the. embellishments you may add to it, all in the rura 

 way. A grape-vine, a climbing rose, the " Queen of the Prai- 

 ries" or the "Baltimore Belle" may be thrown against its 

 walls, or be made to twine above the door or window. In 

 front, some shade trees, our beautiful maples, or ashes or limes 

 or double -flowering cherries and apples, may keep off the in- 

 tenser sun of summer. Within the front enclosure a neat flow- 

 er-garden, yes, a flower garden, with perpetual roses, and iris, 

 and gladiolus, and asters, and dahlias, may be arranged with 

 the least amount of labor required, and the good wife and the 

 children may take the care of it, and with you enjoy the com- 

 fort of it. I say the good wife and children, — for these every 

 farmer must have, — or home is no home. A wifeless, child- 

 less farmer, one whe is so by culpable coldness and neglect of 

 his own, is a selfish, chilly-hearted monster, who walks his 

 dismal pflgrimage in mouldy loneliness, and should know no 

 peace till he yields to matrimony. There are very many 



