Gentle 

 Men 



Songs of the Fields 



derstand why the term is suital)le as none other. 

 Even if the Ahiiiglity did give the earth to the 

 ehikh'en of men, it scarcely seems fair to Him to Nature's 

 efface every picture and hush all song. It is diffi- 

 cult to realize just what would happen were most 

 men farming by this method. But we still have 

 left some degree of comfort because there are so 

 many of nature's gentle men: men who see the 

 pictures, hear the songs, and wish to perpetuate 

 them for their children. 



I know a farm that has been for three genera- 

 tions in the same family, passing from father to 

 son. The home — mark the word — is on a little hill 

 in the middle of the land, obscured by surround- 

 ing trees from the road and its dust and travel. 

 The quaint old house is a story and a half, and a 

 porch extends the length of the front and both 

 sides. That home even tvu-ns its ])ack to the road. 

 The front porch and door face the orchard in the 

 center of the land, 'S\here father always sat when 

 he rested, so that he could hear the birds and bees 

 sing," the son told me. 



There are old beehives under the trees, and the 

 grass is long and fine. One could look at that 

 orchard in mid-winter and tell to a certainty just 

 what music ^\ould swell there in June. The blue- 

 bird would claim the hollow ap]de tree, the catbird 

 the plum tliicket, the rol^in, jay, and dove the ap- 

 ple trees, and the ground sparrow the earth. The 

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