Music of the Wild 



hens would mother l)roods tliere, the turkeys shp 

 around warily, and the guineas clatter in the 

 grass. ]Martins and swallows homing under tlie 

 barn eaves Mould sail above the trees, and black- 

 birds from the creek Avould build on high l)ranches. 

 ]iut no dream could encompass all the music that 

 ^\■ould swell there throughout the summer. 



Any loA'er of sunshine, bird song, and orchard 

 pictures almost could see tlie old man Avho finished 

 his day's Avork and then rested himself with music, 

 sitting beneath bis trees, worshiping (xod in na- 

 tvn-e. I have known many ]nen like him, and all 

 of them had boches as strong as their trees, music 

 in their hearts if the l)irds failed to sing, and faces 

 serene as summer skies. 



The garden lies on one side of the dooryard, the 



barn lot on the other. The garden is a quaint 



An Old- commingling of use and beauty. There are ras])- 



fashioned jj^i-j-y^ curraut, and gooseberry bushes along the 



Garden . , " , t > i " • 



Sides and across the loot, but on either hand at the 

 front gate are tlowers. I^arge clusters of Avhite 

 lilies groAv by each post, and cinnamon pink, lark- 

 spur, ragged robin, and many sweet, old-fashioned 

 blooms overfloAV the beds. Straight down the cen- 

 ter is another big floAver-bed, and at each side of it 

 squares of radishes, onions, lettuce, salsify, spinach, 

 strawberries, — everything edible, and all flower- 

 bordered. In each corner is a peach tree, and tliere 

 are others scattered here and there. 



242 



