The home which I pictured in my dreams and projected in my hopes came
to me at last. It arrived with my marriage. Then children to bless it.
But it was not made complete and final—a veritable Kentucky home—until
the all-round, all-night work which had kept my nose to the grindstone
had been shifted to younger shoulders I was able to buy a few acres of
arable land far out in the county—the County of Jefferson!—and some
ancient brick walls, which the feminine genius to which I owe so much
could convert to itself and tear apart and make over again. Here “the
sun shines bright” as in the song, and—
_The corn tops ripe and the meadows in the bloom The birds make music
all the day._
They waken with the dawn—a feathered orchestra—incessant, fearless—for
each of its pieces—from the sweet trombone of the dove to the shrill
clarionet of the jay—knows that it is safe. There are no guns about. We
have with us, and have had for five and twenty years, a family of
colored people who know our ways and meet them intelligently and
faithfully. When we go away—as we do each winter and sometimes during
the other seasons—and come again—dinner is on the table, and
everybody—even to Tigue and Bijou, the dogs—is glad to see us. Could
mortal ask for more? And so let me close with the wish of my father’s
old song come true—the words sufficiently descriptive of the reality:
_In the downhill of life when I find I’m declining, May my fate no less
fortunate be Than a snug elbow chair can afford for reclining And a cot
that o’erlooks the wide sea— A cow for my dairy, a dog for my game. And
a purse when my friend needs to borrow;
I’ll envy no nabob his riches, nor fame, Nor the honors that wait him
to-morrow._
_And when at the close I throw off this frail cov’ring Which I’ve worn
for three-score years and ten— On the brink of the grave I’ll not seek
to keep hov’ring Nor my thread wish to spin o’er again. But my face in
the glass I’ll serenely survey, And with smiles count each wrinkle and
furrow— That this worn-out old stuff which is thread-bare to-day Shall
become everlasting to-morrow._