p. 22

4

on the beautiful lake called 'The Broad' and
which joined "my father's old farm" regardless of
dear Mother's strict injunctions to "be home to Dinner"
the happy hours flew unheeded by. In the dear
old boat I followed the finny tribe to
their favorite haunts, and seldom failed to
entrap the bony pike, guady perch, or slippery
eels. Happy happy days, with youth, health, and strength
for my portion. True we had work, hard work at times,
on a farm, be it large or small, there is always work to be
done, our parents were good and kind, but no idleness was
allowed. Spring brought its seed sowing and manuring the
land, there were now and then a corn stack to be got into
the barn for threshing, and the time of hunting the
rats and mice when near the finish, sometimes the thrashing
machine was set to work, when the market price of corn
made [expodition?] desirable, and we youngsters looked on
in wonder at the complication of cogs and wheels, then
came the hay harvest, and Summer came on with the
corn to be kept free of weeds; and the Autumn brought
the reapers with the harvest beer, and the dinner under
the shade of the poplar trees, the cold meat and bread,
and the cool cucumber and salt, munched up
with the most delightful relish, and four o'clock
refreshment sent to us to the shade again, with dear
mother's harvest cakes, the plums a long way apart
in them, probably some had got loose from the
paper when they came from the shop and of course
none of us youngsters knew ought of it.

Winter came on and the stock to be sheltered from
the cold, frozen turnips to be broken with a
wooden beetle, the winters were more severe and