593 
The Pastoral Parson and His Country 
Folks 
(Continued from page 584) 
and good it was, too. Yovi see us just 
starting out in the picture. Old Doll is 
assured that they will get out and walk 
when we get to the hills. 
The First Stop. —We must pull up 
here and drop off about half our load 
and see if the children’s father is ready 
to go back to town with us to take the 
train away to his week’s work. We fol¬ 
low the children into the house and if 
there isn’t a lovely brown crisp roast 
chicken right in the middle of the table. 
It certainly is a poor parson that cannot 
eat two dinners! How good that was. 
A girl is hustled down cellar for a can 
of peaches! The man pushed the W'hole 
bird toward us. “If you like it, clean it 
all up,” said he. I looked at George, .Tr. 
What a grin he had on ! 
The Fajiily.— You see this family in 
the picture. The man is going back with 
the Parson to work in a big city making 
revolvers. Nearly every man in this 
whole section works in the city away 
from home all the week—some of them 
coming home hardly once a month. What 
a Winter it has been for these women—■ 
with all the housework and all the chores 
to look after, if not to do! At this place 
there are seven head of cows and two 
horses. You see some of the hens and 
the pig in the picture. She goes to the 
city with butter and eggs every Satur¬ 
day and brings back the man, getting 
home between eleven and twelve at night. 
The Parson dropped in one bitter cold 
night, w'ith a snowstorm thrown in, at 
just half-past eleven, and this family was 
at supper. What a cheerful little woman 
this is—and she always seems the same. 
She has had seven children, with six 
living. When the history of the great 
back-to-the-land movement is over written, 
these women of the Lonely Roads must 
have first place. 
The Boy. —On the porch you see the 
oldest boy. The I’arson, having finished 
up the chicken, has just cut his hair. He 
is 14 years old and every minute W'hen 
not in school goes into the woods and 
gets out black birch brush to take off ten 
miles to the extract factory. Lately he 
has been drawing in green hickory to the 
wheel shop. Twice ia.st week, working 
alone with his heavy load, he got stuck 
in the mud and had to go back home. 
Then the third time he got a neighbor’s 
horse to hitcb on ahead and that could 
not move it, then a man came along with 
a yoke of cattle and got him to the top 
of the hill. 
Working Up Woon.—Some say the 
cow is guilty of driving the boys off the 
farm but the Parson believes the Avood 
pile is the worst offender. He had a dose 
of it himself as a boy and while perhaps 
it cannot be helped in many ca.se.s, yet it 
is terribly unfortunate, to put it mildly. 
Bucking wood after school, while the 
other scholars are coasting, is no work 
for a boy. He can split it up and get it 
to the w'oodbox back of the stove, but the 
ga.soline engine must saw it. The Parson 
insists on this. “It was terrible to see 
that boy hustle home from school and 
change his clothes and buck wood till it 
was so dark he could not see,” said a 
man down county to the Parson one night. 
"What became of the lad?” asked the 
Parson. “Oh ! he is dead all right,” came 
the reply. “It killed him.” The thought 
of that boy, on that lonely road, sawing 
that hard, green wood to his death has 
haunted the Par.son ever .since. And 
what shall God do to the drunken father | 
who made him do it? Perhaps nothing 
more than on that farther shore he shall 
meet his boy face to face and make an¬ 
swer for himself. 
Oi.DER Brothers. —Writing of this 
older brother has .set the Parson to think¬ 
ing about his own oldest boy, now 14 
years old. He expects to graduate from 
grammar .school this Spring and go to 
the high school another Fall. The next 
boy is 12. The Parson does not hesitate 
to say that the most trying thing he has 
had to contend with for many years has 
been the spirit this oldest boy has toward 
the next one. It is hard to describe it. 
Ho is always pleased to find fault with 
him, anxious to tell on him, and rather 
glad on the whole if he gets in any 
trouble. How strange this is. And yet 
the Parson think.s it all goes with his 
age. This .same boy is “perfectly lovely,” 
as Moms puts it, with little Sit or with 
the baby. He is the only one that can 
quiet the baby and put him to sleep when 
it seems hardest to do so, barring the 
baby’s mother. 
A Good Boy. —He is a good boy, most 
con.scientious, and mother has nothing 
but words of praise for him when the 
Parson comes back from a trip. He gets 
along fine in school and with his music. 
He is always willing to practice on the 
piano, and that is a test for any boy. He 
plays real well, sometimes in public, on 
the mandolin. But .still, that ugly feel¬ 
ing toward the next younger ! While it 
.seems to be natural with boys, and while 
the Parson knew he would naturally out¬ 
grow it, yet had we really got to have 
such a feeling in our own family circle? 
The Buix ry the Horns. —If it is 
the natural thing for boys to have this 
feeling for several years (and the Par¬ 
son thinks it is), you cannot do away 
with it, but perhaps the boy can learn to 
keep it to himself. The Parson would try 
this plan anyway. Taking him in the 
midst of a break of ugliness one day, the 
Parson gave him a terrible shaking up 
‘Ghe RURAL- NEW-YORKER 
and then a long talk. The Par.son told 
him that no one in the house was glad or 
anxious to run him down or tell on him 
or make things hard for him—in fact, it 
was just the reverse. He was told at 
some length what a good boy he was; how 
well he helpe<l about the barn and house, 
and what a comfort and help he was on 
his father’s long trij^s. But this one thing 
was spoiling it all; it wmuld have to stop. 
There was to be no more fooling about it; 
it had got to stop and it was going to 
stop. lie could think the matter over, 
but that was what was going to happen. 
And it has happened. Such a change as 
you could never believe. 
Takes Time. —We must always remem- 
ber_ it takes time for children to change 
their way.s. (It is .sometimes so with old 
folk.s.) And we must help them gradual¬ 
ly to get things into their heads and 
hands. It was i)lain he was trying. 
Whenever he forgot himself and started 
to say something reflecting on his brother 
he was instantly stopped and cautioned. 
Whenever the two wanted to go off play¬ 
ing, sibling or skating together, they 
could, “if there was no quarreling.” 
Working Ah ne. —It is hard for one 
boy to work alone, and when they are to¬ 
gether there is abundant room for trouble. 
This is made w’orse when the third boy is 
around all the time, trying to “fool.” as 
they say. The boys are good about doing 
the chores. There is really no need of 
the Parson going over. Several times he 
has the thought he wouldn’t, but he has 
alwmys repented himself. He misses going 
over with them too much . It is just about 
our best time together. The work is di¬ 
vided up as we enter the barn. 
Hate to Milk. —Who will milk? Who 
will get down the silage? It is notice¬ 
able how they do not like to milk. They 
do not mind one big black cow; she is 
such an ea.sy milker, but they do not take 
to the others. Boys’ wrists are not like 
men’s. I imagine many cows are I'eally 
hard for them. How they love to feed 
and bed the calves, or work around any 
baby things. There is such interest and 
pleasure in the chore work! How many 
eggs tonight? How much did Old Madi¬ 
son give, or Beauty, or Haddam Neck? 
Blackie is an easy milker, but gives the 
most. 
Oats and Trenches. —It is astonish¬ 
ing how the language of this war gets 
into oiTr children. And they must needs 
play war. One boy has a terrible eye on 
him now. A skirmishing party, armed 
with corncobs, came upon him in the 
corncrih unaware,s. The Par.son has had 
to promise not to disturb one corner of 
the oats field, as a big trench with under¬ 
ground connection and all has been dug 
there. How they Avork and sweat on this 
thing! It is Avonderful what boys can do 
if they Avant to, and how work is play if 
they are interested! The Parson had 
hoped to have his oats all in by today, 
April 4, but the wind swung round coid 
Ia.st night and he had to get up in the 
middle of the night and go over and let 
the Avater out of the car. Today the 
ground is frozen .solid and the oats will 
stay in the bin for a while longer. 
Early String. —On April Fool’s Day 
we began to get the ground ready for oats. 
This is certainly an early Spring here. 
The ground Avas real dry and worked 
well. We put rye in the corn last Fall, 
and Avhile there is not much rye now so 
early, yet the roots helped to prevent a 
vei-y bad wash of the top soil. It is .such 
a great saving not to have to plow the 
ground, but just cultivate it right up. go¬ 
ing both ways till it is good and mellow. 
Seeding Doavn.— We shall cultivate in 
the oats, going both ways, and then sow 
on the grass seed, mostly clover. Red and 
Alsike mixed. The corn stubble is stand¬ 
ing right there, as usual, but it does no 
harm. We go as clo.se to it as po.ssible 
and not root it up. We shall put on a 
light coat of commercial fertilizer and 
save the barnyard manure for corn. This 
is the best place for it, and there is prac¬ 
tically no danger of giving the corn too 
much. To morrow, if the Parson goes in 
toAvn he must get some formalin ; just a 
small bottle, to treat the oat seed for 
smut. Fortunately, we have our own 
seed. A Aveeder will be fine to scratch 
in the gra.ss seed. Red clover is 4,5 cents 
a pound here. Oats are a cold weather 
crop and Avant to be put in very early. 
That IjOne Goose. —That lone goose 
we raised last year has been laying avcII. 
The boys get an egg every other dav. 
I he two geese so far have laid about 25 
eggs. One goo.se is now sitting on nine 
oggs and a hen on four. TYe have been 
as.sured that it will not do to let the 
goose hatch the young goslings, as she 
will try to pull them out of the .shell 
when they begin to hatch and kilt them. 
As soon as some hens get broody the eggs 
Avill be transferred and “Mamma Goo.se” 
broken up. Perhaps she will lay some 
more. Old .Terry, the gander, has to be 
shut up in the henyard, as he got very 
ugly in the Spring. He will fly right 
into the air to attack a child. 
The Hens.— Today the boy got .88 
eggs from the .58 hens, and yesterday he 
got 4.8. They have nothing but whole 
corn throAvn out on the cob. We started 
on skim-milk and bran with corn, but 
on selling the milk Ave cut this out. We 
get 42 cents Avholesale now, and this cer¬ 
tainly is a good price for this time of 
year. The big commercial hen plants are 
up against a hard proposition, but the 
hen with a big run is a big paying propo¬ 
sition. Tomorrow the Parson will sow 
clover seed among the rye back of the 
henhouse, keeping the hens off till it has 
a good stai't. About July 1, when they 
begin to think it is time to let up a little, 
they will find themselves with sweet, ten¬ 
der clover under their feet and ripening 
rye and wheat over their heads, and how 
they will lay .all the Fall! 
Keg. V. S. 
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