Music of the Wild 



stumps, all A\itliin a few rods «if the house that 

 the felled trees had shaded -from uoon until sunset. 

 These trees had been cut \\itliin the past two years, 

 and the house had stood for many. There was not 

 a g-ro^\tii anywhere around it except a few scrub 

 cedars, and not a bird note. It was bared to the 

 burning heat. 



AMiat A\oidd it have meant to the women and 

 children of that stopping-2)lace, for there was no 

 A Road- sign of home aroimd it, to have had the tight pal- 

 side Dream Jug-fence torn away from tlie few yards immedi- 

 ately surroimding the house; the shelter of those 

 big trees, ^ith an easy seat beneath them, and a 

 hammock swinging bet^^'een? I dreamed those 

 trees Mere growing again and filled -with bird notes, 

 that fence down, a coat of fresh jiaint on the house, 

 the implements standing in the barn lot sheltered, 

 and one day's work spent in arranging the prem- 

 ises. Into the dream would come a vision of open 

 doors and '\\'indows, the sound of the voices of con- 

 teiited women, the shouts of happy children, and 

 the cliirping of many birds. 



Some farms belong to men my critic calls a 

 "tight-wad." That is not a classic expression; but 

 if you sa^v the lands from which every tree had 

 ])een sold, tlie creeks and ponds dried and plowed 

 o^er, the fields inclosed in stretches of burning 

 wire fence to allow cultivation Avithin a few inches 

 of it, not a bird note sounding, — you Avould un- 



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