File:Country life reader (1916) (14771689105).jpg

Identifier: countrylifereade00stev (find matches)
Title: Country life reader
Year: 1916 (1910s)
Authors: Stevenson, Orlando John, 1869- (from old catalog)
Subjects: Country life. (from old catalog) Readers
Publisher: New York, Chicago (etc.) C. Scribner's sons
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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t was a ramblingold field with a fringe of woods on one side and a good-sized creek flowing across the corner into the woods. Thiscreek, my father used to say, just about doubled the valueof his farm; but as a boy I cared little about its usefulnessin providing a drinking-place for the sheep and cattle.To me it was a river of enchantment, where minnowssunned themselves on golden sands, where wonderfulspeckled trout lurked under the twisted roots of over-hanging trees; where ^skaters and water-bugs dancedin magic circles in the darker shadows; where the cattledrowsed, knee-deep, in the hot August afternoons; andwhere we boys used to gather, in the long summer evenings,to make our first trials at swimming in the old swimming-hole at the bend of the stream. I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,Among my skimming swallows;I make the netted sunbeams danceAgainst my sandy shallows. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river.For men may come and men may go But I go on for ever.396
Text Appearing After Image:
398 COUNTRY LIFE READER As a boy, it was always my work to go down to the pas-ture to bring up the cows. I usually walked, for then Icould try the tussocks of grass for meadow-larks nests,or watch for woodchucks, which generally came out morn-ing and evening to feed; or perhaps even give chase to aventuresome red squirrel steahng along the old rail fencefrom the barn to the woods. But when the ground waswet, it was better fun to straddle old Black Bess and ridedown the lane at half-amble, half-gallop, even if we didhave to stop at the bars to clear the way for the cattle tocome and go. And oh! the simple loveliness of thoseglorious spring mornings, when the cool, clear air seemednew-washed by the night dews, and sunlight and air to-gether set my blood tingling and dancing in my veins, sothat I was ready to leap and shout for very joy. ^The years at the spring,And days at the morn;Mornings at seven,The hillsides dew-pearled;The larks on the wing,The snails on the thorn;Gods in his heav

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