J 
i' 
Improving 
the Dairy Herd 
The Department of Agricultural Relations of the New 
York Central Lines is continuously at work with cattle 
breeding associations, agricultural colleges, farm bureaus 
and progressive farmers in the important work of improv¬ 
ing daily cattle. 
Better cattle means better milk. Better milk means better 
prices for the farmer. 
Transporting milk from the farms to the city has come 
to be a considerable part of our day’s work, and we want 
to help increase this traffic. 
Recently a “Better Cattle Train” operated in cooperation 
with New York State Department of Farms and Markets, 
Breeders’ Associations, Farm Bureau, Grange, Dairy¬ 
men’s League and Syracuse University, visited the im¬ 
portant dairy counties of the State, giving demonstrations 
and lectures on the care and feeding of herds, and on 
modern dairy methods. Similar trips are being planned 
for other States served by our lines. 
We recognize that working with the farmer helps to 
make him prosperous, and we prosper only as the 
communities we serve prosper. 
NEW YORK CENTRAL LINES 
BOSTON SALBANY-* MICHIGAN CENTRAL-'BIG POUR ~ PITTSBURGH &LAKE ERIE 
AND THE NEW YORK CENTRAL AND SUBSIDIARY LINES 
Agricultural Relations Department Offices 
New York Central Station, Rochester, N. Y. 
La Salle St. Station, Chicago, III. Michigan Central Station, Detroit, Mich. 
466 Lexington Ave., New York, N. Y. 68 East Gay St., Columbus, Ohio 
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American Agriculturist, December 6, 1924 
A Home That Never Was 
A Fireside Reflection 
Jared Van Wagenen, Jr. 
T HE little tale By JARED VAN 
that I am about 
to set forth came to me almost thirty 
years ago. I heard it only in hare outline 
and doubtless there are some things 
which I have forgotten but he who told 
it has departed whence he can never be 
questioned any more. It came to me 
from a farmer of Alleghany County and 
I cannot be sure just where the scene was 
laid but it was once a current folk tale of 
Southwestern New York. It is quite pos¬ 
sible that someone who reads this may 
remember it and be familiar with the 
facts and if he can give me further details 
and perhaps lo¬ 
cate the place 
upon the map he 
will' earn my 
gratitude. 
I may add 
that the words 
which I have put 
into the mouth 
of the girl are 
exactly those 
that were given 
me and that the 
incident of the 
load of lumber 
that had stood 
for thirty years 
on the barn floor 
was one of the 
precise details 
that made up the story as it was told to 
me. If any names were given, I have 
forgotten them and perhaps that is best 
for so I shall violate no confidence. 
The narrative itself is so brief—so 
lacking in detail that it scarce seems 
worth retelling but it is after all a tragedy 
for it is the story of how a girl’s unthink¬ 
ing, shallow, thoughtless speech and a 
man’s narrow, cruel, unjust suspicion 
sundered forever two lovers whose ro¬ 
mance under happier auspices might have 
endured through many golden years that 
would have meant wonderous happiness 
to both and been an ever widening bless¬ 
ing to the world. 
* * * 
So the story is this. There was to be a 
marriage—union of two farm families—a 
mating on which everybody smiled their 
approval for the girl was young and 
lovely and sweet and true and the Boy 
was worthy of her—stalwart and clean 
and reverent and with their marriage 
would be the mating of a pair that by 
every test were suited to each other and 
fit to be the progenitors of children that 
should prove a blessing to society and a 
priceless asset to the state. 
Both were scions of old farm families 
and according to the very modest 
standards of his time and class the boy 
was well to do—“rich,” the neighbors 
said. 
So with parental approval the Boy be¬ 
thought himself to build a new house on 
the old farm—a country mansion that 
should be the best farm house for miles 
around and that should set a new stand¬ 
ard of comfort and luxury for a house on 
the land. The house was to crown a 
hillock and stand in the midst of a little 
grove—a tiny remnant of the splendid 
forests that once blanketed our state. 
Cunning, old-time master-craftsmen 
wrought at it and the timbers were oak 
and pine hewn with the broad-ax for at 
that time there were still vast stores of 
virgin timber nor were there lacking car¬ 
penters who could strike a chalk line and 
score the logs and then hew them with 
the great twelve-inch ax so smoothly 
that it was hard to tell if they had been 
hewn or planed. 
* * * 
So the house took shape and began to 
rise—wide spreading and generous of 
size with the broad front door and the 
beautiful old-time fan light above it and 
the ample hall and the great rooms on 
either side and big airy chambers above- 
all in accordance with the best standards 
WAGENEN, JR. of the country car¬ 
penters of the time, 
and the summer days passed by and the 
big house approached completion. 
So the builders wrought into the house 
brick and stone and mortar and timber 
framed with honest skill and in their 
minds’ eye they saw a great square farm 
house that should be a landmark for the 
county and an enduring monument to 
their craft. But the Boy saw other and 
finer things, for Love had made him a 
Seer and he built into the house all a 
young man’s visions and a lover’s dreams 
and always and everywhere the picture 
was dominated by a woman—sometimes 
by a Girl that was young as he was, then 
—a laughing, starry-eyed Girl that he 
might kiss and fondle and who would not 
say him nay—or again the same girl 
grown older and matronly but still more 
beautiful and always when he saw her 
thus there was a young child on her knees 
and other sturdy children running through 
and in and out of the big rooms. O, they 
were wondrous tender and lovely visions 
—those boyish dreams! 
* * * 
And the time to make the dreams come 
true drew near for it was past midsummer 
and when the harvest was gathered in 
there would be a wedding at the old 
home of the bride and the relatives and 
friends from far and near would come and 
the white-haired pastor would lift his 
hands above the wedded pair in benedic¬ 
tion, and there would be a great feast 
spread and fun and frolic and, with the 
coming of the dusky autumn night he and 
she would go to the new house and ac¬ 
cording to the old whimsey, he would not 
lead but carry his bride bodily across the 
threshold of her future home and with her 
own hands she would light the first fire on 
the hearth and then they would draw 
close the curtains and be alone with their 
love and their joy and their dreams. 
Stuff like this lie Boy built into the 
house. 
.- * * * 
Then without warning burst the crack 
of doom. 
Came a day when the house was roofed 
and enclosed and little was left to do ex¬ 
cept the interior finishing and the Girl 
with the pride of an already acknowledged 
Mistress came as she had done before 
with her nearest girl friend and confidant 
to inspect it and the two girls daintily 
picked their way over heaps of rubbish 
and piles of shavings and wandered 
through the unfinished rooms. The Boy 
was there, impatient for its completion, 
urging on his men and hammers rang and 
saws rasped and the long jointer plane 
hissed and sang as the satiny curled shav¬ 
ings rolled from it. Everywhere there 
was bustle and the pungent fragrance 
of new pine and the spicy tang of oak and 
the faint aroma of seasoned hemlock and 
through it all the two light-hearted girls 
wandered with laughter and chatter and un¬ 
known to either, close behind hovered the 
Boy so that he might be near his Beloved. 
Then her friend spoke with admiration 
of the fine home that was so soon to be 
hers and anxious to flatter and please 
added, “And best of all—they say there 
will be plenty of money left when all this 
is done.” Then the Girl, so foolishly, 
could not resist the very human tempta¬ 
tion to astonish and to boast a little and 
she made reply, “Yes, that is quite so—- 
but just you wait until after we are mar¬ 
ried. I’ll show you how to make his 
money fly,” and the Boy listening to 
their chatter overheard and understood 
her poor, sill} 7 , boastful speech. 
* * * 
Always my sympathies are with the 
Girl. Foolish and shallow she might have 
been but false or wicked—No. But the 
Boy was hard and suspicious and cruel as 
the grave. Her little folly, her exulting 
boast, was a transgression to be atoned 
for with protestations and with kisses but 
{Continued from page 392) 
