File:Outing (1885) (14779346771).jpg

Identifier: outing51newy (find matches)
Title: Outing
Year: 1885 (1880s)
Authors:
Subjects: Leisure Sports Travel
Publisher: (New York : Outing Pub. Co.)
Contributing Library: Tisch Library
Digitizing Sponsor: Boston Library Consortium Member Libraries

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three-fourths crazy inmy opinion. He aintmarried, and you cantake any man, I dontcare who he is, andlet him live for yearsall by himself out inthis wilderness, andhe will get a little off.Under them circum-stances a man is sureto have very peculiarstreaks and imaginethings ought to go acertain way. Yes, anda man baching herein the woods is prettylikely not to be ableto get along a minutewith his neighbors.Well, speakin aboutthe meetins, at theend of em, theres acanvass made of thehomes, and we fix the preacher up withboth money and food supplies. That reminds me the pigs are squealingfor their dinner, and I must go out and feedthem. The rancher went off toward the pigpen,and I betook myself to the highway.Among the wayside homes was an occas-ional one built of logs, survivals of the rudedays of the first settlers. They were lowand small and looked like poor quarters,but there was one that seemed to me quitedelightful. The roof made a wide projec-tion at one end over the gable and door
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A smokehouse made from a hollow stump below and relieved thearchitectural bare-ness. Vines had beentrained to grow up tothe eaves, and a patchof berry bushes closeby made the cabinnestle in its surround-ings very prettily. Apath led away to asmokehouse a stonesthrow from the dwel-ling, and this smoke-house was made of alarge hollow log seton end with a roofput on the top anda door at theside. The woman of thehouse said the familyhad come from Chi-cago. We didntthink to live in a placelike this, she ex-plained, and whenthe children wouldlook from the carwindows as we werecoming and see lit-tle log cabins ofthis sort they wouldcry out, Whatsthat — a chickencoop?I was late in returning to the town. Thesun had set and the frogs were croaking inlively chorus in the village puddles. Someof the young men were out in the grass ofthe broad main street pitching horseshoequoits. I could hear the call of childrenat play on the byways; there was a softtinkle of cowbells, and the clack of foot-st

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