THE HOME-COMING
In arranging to move my establishment I was in a quandary as to what it
was best to do for a coachman. Lars had been with me fifteen years. He
came a green Swedish lad, developed into a first-class coachman, married
a nice girl--and for twelve years he and his wife lived happily in the
rooms above my stable. Two boys were born to them, and these lads were
now ten and twelve years of age. Shortly after I bought the farm Lars
was so unfortunate as to lose his good wife, and he and the boys were
left forlorn. A relative came and gave them such care as she could, but
the mother and wife was missed beyond remedy. In his depression Lars
took to drink, and things began to go wrong in the stable. He was not
often drunk, but he was much of the time under the influence of alcohol,
and consequently not reliable. I had done my best for the poor fellow,
and he took my lectures and chidings in the way they were intended, and,
indeed, he tried hard to break loose from the one bad habit, but with no
good results. His evil friends had such strong hold on him that they
could and would lead him astray whenever there was opportunity. Polly
and I had many talks about this matter. She was growing timid under his
driving, and yet she was attached to him for long and faithful service.
"Let's chance it," she said. "If we get him away from these people who
lead him astray, he may brace up and become a man again."
"But what about the boys, Polly?" said I.
"We ought to be able to find something for the boys to do on the farm,
and they can go to school at Exeter. Can't they drive the butter-cart
out each morning and home after school? They're smart chaps, you know,
and used to doing things."
Polly had found a way, and I was heartily glad of it, for I did not feel
like giving up my hold on the man and the boys. Lars was glad of the
chance to make good again, and he willingly agreed to go. He was to
receive $23 a month. This was less than he was getting in the city, but
it was the wage which we were paying that year at the farm, and he was
content; for the boys were each to receive $5 a month, and to be sent to
school eight months a year for three years.
This matter arranged, we began to plan for the moving. I had five horses
in my stable,--a span of blacks for the carriage and three single
drivers. Besides the horses, harness, and equipment, there was a large
carriage, a brougham, a Goddard phæton, a runabout, and a cart. I
exchanged the brougham and the Goddard for a station wagon and a park
phæton, as more suitable for country use.
The barn equipment was all sent in one caravan, Thompson and Zeb coming
into town to help Lars drive out. Our lares and penates were sent by
freight on December 17. Polly had managed to coax another thousand
dollars out of me for things for the house; and these, with the
furniture from our old home, made a brave showing when we gathered
around the big fire in the living room, December 22, for our first night
in the country.
Tom, Kate, and the grand-girls were with us to spend the holidays, and
so, too, was the lady whom we call Laura. I shall not try to say much
about Laura. She was a somewhat recent friend. How we ever came to know
her well, was half a mystery; and how we ever got on before we knew her
well, was a whole one.
Roaring fires and shaded lamps gave an air of homelike grace to our new
house, and we decided that we would never economize in either wood or
oil; they seemed to stir the home spirit more than ever did coal or
electricity.
The day had been a busy one for the ladies, but they were pleased with
results as they looked around the well-ordered house and saw the work of
their hands. Before separating for the night, Kate said:--
"I'm going to town to-morrow, and I'll pick up Jane and Jack in time to
take the four o'clock train out. Papa will meet us at the station, and
Momee will greet us at the doorstep. Make an illumination, Momee, and we
will carry them by storm. Tom will have to take a later train, but he
will be here in time for dinner."
The afternoon of the 23d, the children came, and there was no failure in
Kate's plan. The youngsters were delighted with everything. Jane said:--
"I always wanted to live on a farm. I can have a saddle horse now, and
keep as many dogs as I like, can't I, Dad?"
"You shall have the horse, and the dogs, too, when you come to stay."
"Daddy," said Jack, "this will be great for you. Let me finish at an
agricultural college, so that I can be of some practical help."
"Not on your life, my son! What your daddy doesn't know about farming
wouldn't spoil a cup of tea! While you are at home I will give you daily
instruction in this most wholesome and independent business, which will
be of incalculable benefit to you, and which, I am frank to say, you
cannot get in any agricultural college. College, indeed! I have spent
thousands of hours in dreaming and planning what a farm should be like!
Do you suppose I am going to let these visions become contaminated by
practical knowledge? Not by a long way! I have, in the silent watches
of the night, reduced the art to mathematical exactness, and I can show
you the figures. Don't talk to me about colleges!"
After supper we took the children through the house. Every part was
inspected, and many were the expressions of pleasure and admiration.
They were delighted with their rooms, and apparently with everything
else. We finally quieted down in front of the open fire and discussed
plans for the holidays. The children decided that it must be a house
party.
"Florence Marcy is with an aunt for whom she doesn't particularly care,
and Minnie will just jump at the chance of spending a week in the
country," said Jane.
"You can invite three girls, and Jack can have three men. Of course
Jessie Gordon will be here. We will drive over in the morning and make
sure of her."
"Jack, whom will you ask? Get some good men out here, won't you?"
"The best in the world, little sister, and you will have to keep a sharp
lookout or you will lose your heart to one of them. Frank Howard will
count it a lark. He has stuck to the "business" as faithfully as if he
were not heir to it, and he will come sure to-morrow night. Dear old
Phil--my many years' chum--will come because I ask him. These two are
all right, and we can count on them. The other one is Jim Jarvis,--the
finest man in college."
"Tell us about him, Jack."
"Jarvis's father lives in Montana, and has a lot of gold mines and other
things to keep him busy. He doesn't have time to pay much attention to
his son, who is growing up after his own fashion. Jim's mother is dead,
and he has neither brother nor sister,--nothing but money and beauty and
health and strength and courage and sense and the stanchest heart that
ever lifted waistcoat! He has been on the eleven three years. They want
him in the boat, but he'll not have it; says it's not good work for a
man. He's in the first division, well toward the front, too, and in the
best society. He's taken a fancy to me, and I'm dead gone on him. He's
the man for you to shun, little woman, unless you wish to be led
captive."
"There are others, Jack, so don't worry about me. But do you think you
can secure this paragon?"
"Not a doubt of it! I'll wire him in the morning, and he'll be here as
soon as steam can bring him; he's my best chum, you know."
This would make our party complete. We were all happy and pleased, and
the evening passed before we knew it.