SPRING. 



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EARLY PLOUGHING. 



industry. Yonder we notice an oft-recurring little puff of mist, like a 

 burlesque snow-drift, ever and anon bursting into view, and softly van- 

 ishing against the sward ; another glance detects the slow progress of 

 horse and cart, as the farmer sows his load of plaster across the whiten- 

 ing field. Farther up, where the brow of the hill stands clear against 

 the sky, a pacing figure, with measured sweep of arm, scatters the hand- 

 fuls of wheat, and team and harrow soon are in his path, combing and 

 crumbling the dark-brown mould. High curling wreaths of smoke wind 

 upward from the flat swamp lot beyond, where hilarious boys enjoy both 

 work and play in burning off the brush. Here we shall see the first 

 welcome nibble of fresh grass for the poor bereaved cow, whose lament- 

 ing bleat now echoes through the barn near by ; and for those oxen, too, 

 that with swaying, clumsy gait lug the huge roller across the neighboring 

 field. And what strange yells and exclamations guide them in their 

 labored progress ! " Ho back ! Gee up,, ahoy ! Ho haw !" From every 

 direction, in voices near, and others faint with distance, we hear this 

 same queer jargon. Who could believe that so much good work hung 

 upon the incessant reiteration of that brief and monotonous vocabulary ? 

 Rather would we listen to the musical ring of the laughing children 

 riding on the big "brush harrow" down through that barn -yard lane 

 beyond. Now they are out upon the broken ground where John has 

 strewn the "compost" to be "brushed in." A broad flat wake follows 



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