for t!}c l)mtn0. 
RECOLLECTIONS OF A FARM HAND. 
H. P. BERNARD. 
TheoW man was “tending mason,” the work 
was slow and easy, and he kept up a mono¬ 
logue something like this: “When I hear 
young Americans talking about hard times, I 
have to laugh to myself: they never saw hard 
times iu this country, but.they were here once, 
and I saw them. I came to this country in 
’42. From New York I went to Newburg, and 
then crossed country into the heart of Orange 
county. For about two years I worked as a 
farm baud around Hampton, and in the fall 
of ’44 I was working for a farmer a few miles 
back of Middletown, when along comes an 
able bodied young man who offers himself to 
work for his board during the wiuter. My 
employer called me ouo side. “You heard 
what that, man said, but, Joliuuie, I’ll do bet¬ 
ter than that by you, I’ll give you $5.” I 
thought it was a job, so I answered, “You 
bettor take him, I won't work.” The 
young man went to work, and he was 
every whit as good a worker as I, hut I 
couldn’t believe that he was getting nothing 
but his board. When my month was up I 
left. 
1 I was a little money ahead, so I thought 
that I could take it easy until a good place 
turned up. I crossed the mountain over to 
Port Jervis, intending to spend a few days 
with a friend who had a place a little back of 
the village; we were just sitting down to sup¬ 
per when, who should walk iu but our friend, 
Tommy, who was hired to a farmer near 
Goshen. We were all glad to see Tommy, 
who was a jolly young fellow. Of course, the 
first thing was to eat supper. We were 
all friends at home, and where one had a roof 
all were welcome—in fact, it didn’t make 
much difference whether you were known at 
home or not, if you were a poor Irishman and 
out of work, the rest kuew about bow it was, 
aud did their best to cheer you up. Indeed, 
the pi or im uigrant who came here before the 
railroad era, often needed a little friendly 
cheering. After supper Tommy brought us 
all into low spirits by groaning out: “I wish 
I was back in the old country." I felt a loud 
echo in my o.vn heart. We were sympathetic 
listeners while Tommy related how he was 
offered the alternative of working for his 
board or quitting. He quit, and was now 
weary aud footsore after a week’s vaiu search 
for n place. He could find no one to employ 
him even for his board. 
That kind of talk roused me, and I thought 
of the good place aud live lollars n month that 
I had thrown up. Now, that I knew it to he dif¬ 
ficult, 1 wanted to find employment at once; 
so, next morning 1 proposed to Tommy that 
we take a trip down imo Pennsylvania. Tom¬ 
my was willing, for lie had very little money. 
We started and searched diligently alougthe 
Delaware, aud pretty much all through 
Northumberland county until, finally, we 
came to Trenton. Trenton wasn’t much of a 
place in those days, for all it was an old col¬ 
lege town. The farther we went the worse 
things seemed to he getting, so we turned back 
aud came upon the Jersey side of the river. 
No help wanted. A friend kept u boarding¬ 
house at Middletown, and we went there. 
Tommy’s money was about gone, and he was 
in despair. Towards the first of December 
my purse was getliug pretty light. One morn¬ 
ing after breakfast I sat down in the sun out¬ 
side the back-door, and brought myself face 
to face with the situation. I jumped up, feel- 
iug very uneasy. 
The ground was frozen hard, the air was 
fine. A few flakes of snow were falling. It 
was just the nay for walking. Without 
saying a word to any one, I started off. My 
mind was made up. I would travel until I 
found a place to work for my board. About 
two o’clock in the afternoon I came to the 
farm of a mail whom 1 had heard spoken of as 
rich and miserly. He owned a largo tract of 
land and, although much of it was still in 
timlier, he kept about 50 milch cows aud 
other stock in proportion. He had a largo 
sized family, some, both sons and daughters, 
pretty well grown up. I went around to 
the back door and knocked. Oue of t.he 
daughters opened the door and in reply to my 
question pointed over my head. I looked iu 
the direction indicated, and saw a team of 
horses aud two men at work piling logs. I 
thanked the young lady and started across 
fields. The men were at work about a mile 
from the house; a little pitch, but you 
couldu’t call it going up hill. 
He stood up aud looked at me. “Do you 
want any more help?” He looked around. 
“Yes, I can use another man.” I was in the 
act of putting off my coat, when he added: 
THE RURAL MEW-YOMER. 
JULY 30 
“If you like you can go to work for four dol¬ 
lars and board.” Four dollars and hoard! If 
he had said two meals a day it. would be more 
iu keeping with wlmt I had heard of the man; 
I stared at him. He straightened up and said 
gruffly, “I mn get all the men I want for less 
money,” That sobered me. 1 jerked off my 
coat, in a jiffy aud grabbed hold of the end of 
a log. 
The work was piling poles. I did uot then 
know ami to this day I cannot imagine what 
the poles were for; if there were telegraph 
poles in those days—which there weren’t—1 
should say that is what they were. The far¬ 
mer gave me his place at the heavy end, and 
as the pile was already pretty high, we had to 
skid the polos up a steep incline. I found it 
a pretty snug h'ft, but for the man at the 
other end of the log the weight was hardly a 
third as much. I soon found, however, that I 
had to favor him by going slowly, and by 
letting him start his end of the log first. I 
took it easy and favored him all I could. 
The man’s clothes were iu tatters, and the 
longer I watched him the more set I became 
in the conviction that he was weak from star¬ 
vation. Thinks I, “That’s wlmt comes of 
traveling arouud iu search of employment 
without mouey iu one’s pocket. But he’ll be 
ixll right after n few days of good feeding.” 
Well, we worked aloug until dark. I tried 
to break the ice with a few jokes, 
but the fellow wouldn’t talk or laugh. 
The farmer disconnected the traces aud 
started ahead with the team, aud my co¬ 
worker picked up the whiffle trees aud stag¬ 
gered after. As soon as I could get to him I 
took them off his shoulders aud we trudged to 
the house iu silence. 
There were some chores to do, not ninny, for 
the boys had pretty well attended to things 
around the stable; lietween seven and eight 
o’clock we got into supper. The supper was 
laid in the kitchen. The kitchen, the table, 
the supper, oil were on a very extended scale. 
Iu one corner of the kitchen was a big, square 
stove, somewhat of a novelty in those days, at 
least iu that section. At least a cord of wood 
was piled behind the stove; behind the wood 
pile were to be seen traces of a huge fireplace 
that had been walled in; over it, about six feet 
from the floor, and almost wide enough to 
cover the top of the woodpile, was the largest 
mantel-shelf I’ve ever seen. Iu the other cor¬ 
ner on the same side of the room, were two 
big churns, a pile of pails and pans and other 
belongings to the dairy. The farmers churned 
all their milk, and there was a big supply of 
real Orange county butter in those days. The 
table stretched along the other side of the 
room. About three ordinary tablecloths 
would cover the table, two were spread upon 
it, one at the head or family end of the table, 
the other in the middle for the hired help. 
About a foot of the table was bare between 
the cloths. Of course, the lower part of the 
table was uncovered. When vve were seated 
the farmer made a long prayer, after wnich a 
girl who was baking pancakes set a dish of 
them on the table, then she brought a deep 
dish of fried pork and gravy. That was all— 
neither tea nor coffee, no milk, molasses or 
butter. I stared at my plate aud thought it 
out: four dollars and board! everything was 
clear, it didn’t take very long either. But I 
was too hungry to be over dainty, so I pulled 
iu and looked for the pancakes. They had 
been passed to the edge of the uncovered 
space between the two cloths, but the dish was 
still a good way off. Under the arrangement 
oue couldn’t expect them to be put over the 
neutral territory, but it occurred to me that 
the difficulty might he met by putting a sepa¬ 
rate dish of cakes on our purt of the table. 
There was an objection to this that I did not 
see until later on. Poor hunger-pinched tatter- 
medallion sat above me, so I held my plate for 
him to help me; he put ou one cake first; then, 
after a little hesitation, another. 1 still held 
my plate, as 1 diJ uot want to bother him too 
often, but he gave me such a don’t- 
ask-tne kind of a look that I took back 
my plate. It doesn’t take a huugry man very 
long to eat the first two griddle-cukes. Iu a 
minute there wasn’t any liing on my plate.and 
this kind of baiting my appetite made me mad. 
I watched my neighbor cutting hissccoud cake 
as daintily us though it were a debate with him 
whether he hadn’t enough without it. When 
lie had finished it he paused as if pondering 
over something; then ho slyly reached out for 
another as if lie were stealing It, “Pass along 
the cakes.” The fellow jumped as tho’ I’d 
struck him, but he passed me the dish. I un¬ 
loaded about one-half on my plate aud then 
lot him set it back, and looked up toward tho 
head of the table, intending to ask for a piece 
of pork, but I met with so many scowls that 
I forgot to ask. When I was about half 
through my supper the dish was sent down to 
me; I took a piece of meat, but had no stom¬ 
ach for the greasy water in which it was float¬ 
ing. 
After supper Billy—that’s the name he an¬ 
swered to—pulled over to the stove; I did the 
same. The family all weut into an adjoining 
room except the old man, who stayed to talk 
over the programme for the next day. Billy 
and I were not to sleep together and I was 
heartily glad of that. The old man told Billy 
where to show mo to bed, then, after blowing 
out the candle on the table and looking at the 
one on the corner of the high mantel as if he 
dearly longed to blow that out too, he left the 
room. I wanted to ask Billy some questions, 
and I thought now wns the time, but the door 
was hardly closed after the old man when it 
opened again, lotting out a lined of mellow 
light and sounds of merry laughter. “Billy, 
aren’t you going to bed to-night ;” Billy got 
up, reached for the candle and led the way up 
stairs. That part of the house was chambered 
off, but not plastered. Billy led mo to my room, 
put down the light aud shuffled off in the dark 
without a word, I was very tired, so that 
about as soon as I got iu bed I fell asleep and 
I spent the night very comfortably. The 
snow did not come drifting in on me as it did 
ou many subsequent nights during the mouth 
I was there. 
I was iu the habit of rising early, so that I 
was awake when a knock came to the door. 
“Well?” “Time to get up,” says Billy. “All 
right.” I got up,lit the candle,dressed and went 
down stairs. I found the kitchen as hot as au 
oven and the air suffocating with smoke aud 
the odor of the griddle. The family were sit¬ 
ting in their places around the table, but had 
finished their breakfast. Billy was eating. 
There was a kind of shed where vve washed, out¬ 
side of the kitchen, and I hurried out there 
thinking to find it daylight, but it was as dark 
as midnight. 1 couldn’t find tho wash-basin, so 
I weut out to the pin-stock and got iu to 
breakfast as soon ns I could. Buckwheat cakes, 
pork and gravy, and something in the nature 
of coffee. As the rest wore done eating, Billy 
aud I had the dishes between us. I took my 
time, ate plenty aud tried to encourage Billy 
to do the same. It was the only square meal 
I had in that house. The order of the day 
was to remove a stack of hay to the barn. 
One of the sons lit a lantern and we went to 
the stable. It was just broakiug day when 
we were putting on the first load of hay. Two 
teams were going aud we were kept at it 
without any breathing spells until dinner. I 
sat down that day to tbc gauntest dinner-ta¬ 
ble I’ve ever seen—a plate of bread, boiled po¬ 
tatoes, fried pork, a dish of pickles and plenty 
of cold water. Noamountof boldness would en¬ 
able me to satisfy my hunger; when we rose 
from the table Billy hadn’t had half enough to 
eat, I felt sorry for him: as for myself, I had 
hired for a mouth. $4 and board, aud from 
that out I meant to beep the miserly old fel¬ 
low up to his contract. That afternoon I got 
a chance to talk to Billy, and I did: “ Ts this 
the kind of living you are used to ? ” Said 
he: “I’d be ashamed to tell you what I’ve put 
up with for the past month. ’ His voice grew 
husky as he went ou. “I’ve a wife and two 
children and for tho sake of being able to send 
them my wages, $3 a month, I am tiying to 
get through the wiuter myself as you see.” 
My blood boiled; “Billy" said I, “things are 
going to he better from this out, for one 
month at least.” He looked scared. “Don’t 
get them down on me.” I promised uot to do 
him any harm. As soon as I could get a word 
with the old man I was mighty plain in telling 
him thut he would have to come up with his 
board. He made no reply, but at supper 
Billy and I hud a dish of cakes to ourselves, 
and the meat dish was set near us some of the 
time; I thought it hail more solid and less 
water in it than ou the evening before. There 
was a gradual improvement from that out, 
but at best it was very poor board. 
As the month for which I had hired drew to 
a close tbc family began to grow friendly, and 
three or four days before my time was up the 
old man asked me on what terms I’d hire with 
him for the next 10 months. “O, I guess I 
won’t hire." Next day he came to me again. 
“No, I won’t work for you.” “The reason?” 
“Well, I’d rather not tell you.” But he hung 
on. At last I said, “I’ll tell you; you don’t 
kuow how to treat a mail; you never fed me 
so’s I could do a good day’s work for you. 
Here you have 50 cows and churn ever)' day, 
but I never saw a color of butter on your 
table. 1. He turned and walked away. When 
he paid me I went to Middletown to spend tho 
holidays, but I spent none of that money fool¬ 
ishly. A short time afterwards I went to 
work for another man who treated me the best 
1 ever was treated. It’s the nature of a mean 
man to toko advantage of another’s misfor. 
tune, 
1 didn’t mean to give the old chap any valu¬ 
able advice, but I did. If you want a man to 
do his best for you, give him good fare and 
use him well—above all, treat him as a man.’’ 
See next puge for Uncle Mark’s talk. I 
have to talk pretty fast this weather. When 
wiuter comes ami the advertisements crowd, 
I have to keep quiet. 
PissccUattfffujs 
Care for the Children 
Cbiltlren feel tho debility of the changing sea¬ 
sons, even more than adults, and they become 
cross, peevish mid uncontrollable. The blood 
should ho cleansed and tho system invigorated 
by the use of Hood’s Sarsaparilla. Give, itatrial. 
"Last spring my two children were vaccinated. 
Soon after, they hrnkn all out. with running sores, 
bo dreadful 1 thought I should lose them. Hood’s 
Sarsaparilla cured them completely; and they 
have been li.ialthy ever since. 1 do feel that 
Hood’s Sarsaparilla saved my children to me.” 
Mas. G. L. Tiiomi’son, West Warren, Mass. 
Hood’s Sarsaparilla 
Sold by all druggists. $1; six for $5. Made 
only by C. I. HOOD & CO., Lowell, Mass. 
IOO Doses One Dollar 
rune rniLK. 
WARREN' 
,MILK BOTTLES 
1 Patented March2,'kl. 1880. 
Adapted for the Delivery 
of Milk in all Cities 
ami Towns. 
A lOHO-AElOfO WANT 
AT IAST SUPPLIED. 
A. V. WHITEMAN, 
72 Murray St., NEW YORK. 
“ACME” Pulverizing Harrow. 
Clod Crusher and JLeveler. Rest 
implement cm earth for preparing soil for 
wheat and covering grain. Sent on trial 
to responsible farmers. Address 
DUANE H. NASH, Millington, N. J. 
to n pail of whitewash, 
ji while applying. White- 
Gone where the Woodbine Twinoth. 
Rats arc smart, but “Re-can on Rats” beats 
them. Clears out Rats, Mice. Roaches, Water 
Bugs. Flies, Beetles, Moths, Ants. Mosquitoes, 
Beddings, Insects, Potato Bugs, Sparrows, 
Skunks. Weasel, Gophers, Chipmunks, Mules, 
Musk Rats, Juek Rabbits. Squirrels. 15c. & 25c. 
HEN LICE. 
“Rotor on Rats'’ is a complete preventive 
and destroyer of Hon Lice. Mix a SBc. box of 
“Rough on Rats” to a pail 
keep it well stirred up while n up I 
wash the whole interior of the Hennery; iusido 
and outside of the nests. The cure is radical 
And complete. POTATO BUGS 
For Potato Bugs. Insects on 
Vines, Shrulvs, Trees-, 1 pound 
or half the con tents of a $ 1.00 
box of “Rotron on Rais” < Agri¬ 
cultural Size) to bo tlioroiif/hly 
mixed with one to two barrels 
of plaster, or wlmt is bolter air 
Blocked lime. Much depends 
upon thorough mixing, so as 
mpletely distribute the poison, Sprinkle 
it on plants, trees or shrubs when damp or 
wet, and is quite effective wbeu mixed with 
lime, dusted on without, moisture. While in 
its concentrated stale it is the most active 
nnd strongest of ail Bug Poisons; when mixed 
as above Is comparatively harmless to ani¬ 
mals or persons, 111 any quantity they would 
take. If preferred to use in liquid fonn.atable- 
Hpoourui of t be full strength “Rough on Rats” 
Powder, well shaken, in a keg of water and 
applied with a sprinkling pot, spra.t syringo 
or w-bisk broom, will be found very effective. 
Keep it well stirred tip while using. Sold Dy 
ull Druggists and Storekeepers. 15c., 25c. A $1. 
R. 8. Welm. Chemist. Jersey City. N. J. 
to eomr 
TANDARD 
GALVANIZED WIRE NETTING. 
For Poultry Fencing. 
[7-S OK ONK C’KNT SOU 2 IXCII MICSII NO. IU WIRK. 
EVERYTHING KOK THE POULTRY YARD. 
I llatcher** and Brooders. 
Send for Circular. Bruckner A Evans. 
28 VESKY STREET, N. Y. CITY. 
-ACME— 
_ 
PULVERIZING HARROW, 
CLOD CRUSHER and LEVELER. 
' The Bast-Tool In the world for preparing Wheat 
Ground and for Bummer Fallow*. 
DUANE K. NASH. Solo Manufacturer, 
Millington, Mew Jrnvy. 
Branch Ontoe: 5*0 South Clurk -St.. Chlciym- 
N. B.—‘‘Tillage It Manure” and other ...ay. *enl free 
to parties who name thie paper. 
IlM), rm.LNIM IIINA, 
Mliitv, iivrkhiilrr A York- 
HouOiilowu, I'uUwold 
( Iuwii Stirepnoil Lambs 
Shepherd and 
I'miltr/e h«‘iul for 1 uUloguc 
W.ATLKK lit KI'LK A CUmU.m 
Read “.Beneficial Results of Sum¬ 
mer Fallowing’,” by Henry Stewart. 
Mailed free to farmers who name this pa¬ 
per, Address 
DUANE II. NASH, Millington, N. J. 
THK BEST CATTLE FASTENING! 
SMITH'S 
SELF-ADJU8T1HB SWING ST1NCHI0N, 
The only Practical Swing Stanchion Invented. Thou- 
saudstnuse. Illustrated Circular frt%, Manufactured 
by If. G. PARSONS & Co.. Addison, Snmbou Co. N. Y 
4 
