My name is Louisa Manners. I was seven years old on the first day of
May. On the morning of that day, as soon as I awoke, I crept into
mamma's bed, and said,
"Open your eyes, mamma, and look at me, for it is my birthday."
Then mamma told me I should ride in a post-chaise, and see my
grandmamma. She lived at a farm house in the country, and I had never
in all my life been out of London. No; nor had I ever seen a bit of
green grass, except in the Drapers' Garden, which is near our house in
Broad Street. Nor had I ever ridden in a railway carriage before that
happy birthday.
I ran about the house, talking of where I was going, and rejoicing so
that it was my birthday, that when I got into the train I was tired,
and fell asleep.
When I awoke, I saw green fields on both sides of the train, and the
fields were full, quite full, of bright, shining, yellow flowers, and
the sheep and young lambs were feeding among them. The trees and
hedges seemed to fly swiftly by us, and one field, and the sheep, and
the lambs passed away. Then another field came, and that was full of
cows. There was no end of these charming sights until we came to
grandmamma's house, which stood all alone by itself, no house to be
seen at all near it.
Grandmamma was very glad to see me. She first took me to the farmyard,
and I peeped into the barn. There I saw a man thrashing, and as he
beat the corn with his flail he made a great noise. Then I went to the
pond where the ducks were swimming, and I saw the little wooden houses
where the hens slept at night. The hens were feeding all over the
yard, and the prettiest little chickens were feeding there too. Some
little yellow ducklings had a hen for their mother. She was so
frightened if they went near the water. Grandmamma says a hen is not
esteemed a very wise bird.
We went out of the farmyard into the orchard. Oh, what a sweet place
grandmamma's orchard is! There were pear-trees, and apple-trees, and
peach-trees all in blossom. These blossoms were the prettiest flowers
that ever were seen; and among the grass under the trees there grew
buttercups, and cowslips, and daffodils, and blue-bells. I filled my
lap with flowers, I filled my hair with flowers, and I carried as many
flowers as I could in both my hands. But as I was going into the
parlor to show them to mamma, I stumbled, and down I fell with all my
treasures!
Next, there was a most wonderful garden to see, long and narrow, a
straight gravel path down the middle of it, and at the end of the
gravel walk there was a green arbor with a bench around it.
On one side of this garden there were a great many bee hives, and the
bees sung as they worked. They had a beautiful flower-bed to gather
their honey from, quite close to the hives.
After seeing the garden, I saw the cows milked, and that was the last
sight I saw that day, for while I was telling mamma about the cows I
fell fast asleep, and I suppose I was then put to bed.
The next morning my parents were gone. I cried sadly, but was
comforted at hearing they would return in a month and fetch me home.
Grandmamma gave me a little basket to gather my flowers in. I went out
to the orchard, and before I had half filled my basket I forgot all my
troubles.
The time I passed at my grandmamma's farm is always in my mind.
Sometimes I think of the good-natured, pied cow that would let me
stroke her while the dairy-maid was milking her. Then I fancy myself
running after the dairy-maid into the nice, clean dairy, and see the
pans full of milk and cream. Then I remember the wood-house; it had
once been a barn, but being grown old, the wood was kept there. I used
to peep about among the fagots to find the eggs the hens sometimes
left there. A hen, grandmamma said, is a kindly bird, always laying
more eggs than she wants on purpose to give them to her mistress for
puddings and custards.
Nothing could have been more pleasant than the day the orchard was
mowed. The hay smelled so sweet and I might toss it about as much as
ever I pleased. It was green at first, and then turned yellow and dry,
and was carried away in a cart to feed the horses.
When the currants and gooseberries were quite ripe, grandmamma had a
sheep-shearing. All the sheep stood under the trees to be sheared.
They were brought out of the field by old Spot, the shepherd dog. I
stood at the gate and watched him drive them all in. When the shearers
had cropped off all their wool, the sheep looked very clean, and
white, and pretty. But, poor things, they ran shivering about with
cold, so that it was a pity to see them.
Great preparations were being made all day for the sheep-shearing
supper. Grandmamma said a sheep-shearing was not to be compared to a
harvest-home, that was so much better. Then the oven was quite full of
plum pudding, and the kitchen was very hot indeed with roasting beef;
yet I can assure you that there was no want at all of either
roast-beef or plum pudding at the sheep-shearing.
I was allowed to sit up until it was almost dark, to see the company
at supper. They sat at a long oak table, which was finely carved, and
as bright as a looking glass. After the happiest day, bed time will
come. I sat up late, but at last grandmamma sent me to bed. Yet,
though I went, I heard the company singing. The sound of their voices
was very sweet indeed as they sang of the meadows and the sheep.
The common supper that we had every night was just as cheerful. Before
the men came in out of the field, a large fagot was flung upon the
fire. The wood used to crackle, and blaze, and smell delightfully. And
then the crickets, who loved the fire, began to sing. The old shepherd
loved the fire almost as well as the crickets did, and he would take
his place in the chimney corner at supper time. He had a seat near the
fireplace, quite under the chimney, and over his head the bacon hung.
When the shepherd was seated the milk was hung in a skillet over the
fire, and then the men used to come and sit down at the long white
table.
Sometimes, when I was at my grandmamma's farm house, I thought about
London, how the houses stood close to each other, and what a noise the
coaches made, and how many people there were in the streets. Then I
usually went out into the old wood-house and played at being in
London. I set up bits of wood for houses, and in one corner I made a
little garden with grass and daisies, and that was the Draper's
Garden.
I was sorry to have to go away from my grandmamma's farm before the
harvesting but if I am allowed to return for it next year, I will tell
you all about it.