CHAPTER XXXI

THE CHILDREN

The house did not progress as fast as Nelson had promised, and it was

likely to be well toward Christmas before we could occupy it. As the

days shortened, Polly and I found them crowded with interests. Life at

Four Oaks was to mean such a radical change that we could not help

speculating about its influence upon us and upon the children. Would it

be satisfactory to us and to them? Or should we find after a year or two

of experiment that we had been mistaken in believing that we could live

happier lives in the country than in town? A year and a half of outdoor

life and freedom from professional responsibilities had wrought a great

change in me. I could now eat and sleep like a hired man, and it seemed

preposterous to claim that I was going to the country for my health. My

medical adviser, however, insisted that I had not gotten far enough away

from the cause of my breakdown, and that it would be unwise for me to

take up work again for at least another year. In my own mind there was a

fixed opinion that I should never take it up again. I loved it dearly;

but I had given long, hard service to it, and felt that I had earned the

right to freedom from its exacting demands. I have never lost interest

in this, the noblest of professions, but I had done my share, and was

now willing to watch the work of others. In my mind there was no doubt

about the desirability of the change. I have always loved the thought of

country life, and now that my thoughts were taking material shape, I was

keen to push on. Polly looked toward the untrammelled life we hoped to

lead with as great pleasure as I.

But how about the children? Would it appeal to them with the same force

as to us? The children have thus far been kept in the background. I

wanted to start my factory farm and to get through with most of its dull

details before introducing them to the reader, lest I should be diverted

from the business to the domestic, or social, proposition.

The farm is laid by for the winter, and most of the details needed for a

just comprehension of our experiment have been given. From this time on

we will deal chiefly with results. We will watch the out-put from the

factory, and commend or find fault as the case may deserve.

The social side of life is quite as important as the commercial, for

though we gain money, if we lose happiness, what profit have we? Let us

study the children to see what chances for happiness and good fellowship

lie in them.

Kate is our first-born. She is a bright, beautiful woman of

five-and-twenty, who has had a husband these six years, one daughter for

four years, and, wonderful to relate, another daughter for two years.

She is quick and practical, with strong opinions of her own, prompt with

advice and just as prompt with aid; a woman with a temper, but a friend

to tie to in time of stress. She has the education of a good school, and

what is infinitely better, the cultivation of an observing mind. She is

quick with tongue and pen, but her quickness is so tempered by

unquestioned friendliness that it fastens people to her as with a cord.

She overflows with interests of every description, but she is never too

busy to listen sympathetically to a child or a friend. She is the

practical member of the family, and we rarely do much out of the

ordinary without first talking it over with Kate.

Tom Hamilton, her husband, is a young man who is getting on in the

world. He is clever in his profession, and sure to succeed beyond the

success of most men. He is quiet in manner, but he seems to have a way

of managing his quick, handsome wife, which is something of a surprise

to me, and to her also, I fancy. They are congenial and happy, and their

children are beings to adore. Tom and Kate are to live in town. They are

too young for the joys of country life, and must needs drag on as they

are, loved and admired by a host of friends. They can, and will,

however, spend much time at Four Oaks; and I need not say they approved

our plans.

Jack is our second. He was a junior at Yale, and I am shy of saying much

about him lest I be accused of partiality. Enough to say that he is

tall, blond, handsome, and that he has gentle, winning ways that draw

the love of men and women. He is a dreamer of dreams, but he has a

sturdy drop of Puritan blood in his veins that makes him strong in

conviction and brave in action. Jack has never caused me an hour of

anxiety, and I was ever proud to see him in any company.

Concerning Jane, I must be pardoned in advance for a father's

favoritism. She is my youngest, and to me she seems all that a father

could wish. Of fair height and well moulded, her physique is perfect.

Good health and a happy life had set the stamp of superb womanhood upon

her eighteen years. Any effort to describe her would be vain and

unsatisfactory. Suffice it to say that she is a pure blonde, with eyes,

hair, and skin just to my liking. She is quiet and shy in manner,

deliberate in speech, sensitive beyond measure, wise in intuitive

judgment, clever in history and literature, but always a little in doubt

as to the result of putting seven and eight together, and not

unreasonably dominated by the rules of orthography. She is fond of

outdoor life, in love with horses and dogs, and withal very much of a

home girl. Every one makes much of Jane, and she is not spoiled, but

rather improved by it. She was in her second year at Farmington, and,

like all Farmington students, she cared more for girls than for boys.

These were the children whom I was to transport from the city, where

they were born, to the quiet life at Four Oaks. After carefully taking

their measures, I felt little hesitation about making the change. They,

of course, had known of the plan, and had often been to the farm; but

they were still to find out what it really meant to live there. A saddle

horse and dogs galore would square me with Jane, beyond question; but

what about Jack? Time must decide that. His plan of life was not yet

formed, and we could afford to wait. We did not have much time in which

to weigh these matters, for the Christmas holidays were near, and the

youngsters would soon be home. We planned to be settled in the new house

when they arrived.

The Fat of the Land: The Story of an American Farm · 第 31 / 67 章