<h2 id="id01209" style="margin-top: 4em">CHAPTER XLII</h2>
<h5 id="id01210">AUTUMN WORK AND SPORT</h5>
<p id="id01211" style="margin-top: 2em">The barn was now up, and the carpenters were roofing it in, while two
days more of work would complete the sty and poultry-house. Every
stroke of the hammer told rapidly now, and we all exulted over our new
and better appliances for carrying out our plan of country life. Since
the work was being done by contract, I contented myself with seeing
that it was done thoroughly. Meanwhile Merton was busy with the cart,
drawing rich earth from the banks of the creek. I determined that the
making of great piles of compost should form no small part of my fall
and winter labor. The proper use of fertilizers during the present
season had given such a marked increase to our crops that it became
clear that our best prospect of growing rich was in making the land
rich.</p>
<p id="id01212">During the last week of September the nights were so cool as to suggest
frost, and I said to Mousie: "I think we had better take up your
geraniums and other window plants, and put them in pots or boxes. We
can then stand them under a tree which would shelter them from a slight
frost. Should there be serious danger it would take us only a few
minutes to bring them into the house. You have taken such good care of
them all summer that I do not intend that you shall lose them now. Take
your flower book and read what kind of soil they grow best in during
the winter, and then Merton can help you get it."</p>
<p id="id01213">The child was all solicitude about her pets, and after dinner she and
Merton, the latter trundling a wheelbarrow, went down to the creek and
obtained a lot of fine sand and some leaf-mould from under the trees in
the woods. These ingredients we carefully mixed with rich soil from the
flower-bed and put the compound in the pots and boxes around the roots
of as many plants as there was room for on the table by the sunny
kitchen window. Having watered them thoroughly, we stood them under a
tree, there to remain until a certain sharpness in the air should warn
us to carry them to their winter quarters.</p>
<p id="id01214">The Lima-beans, as fast as the pods grew dry, or even yellow, were
picked and spread in the attic. They could be shelled at our leisure on
stormy winter days.</p>
<p id="id01215">Early in September my wife had begun to give Mousie, Winnie, and Bobsey
their lessons again. Since we were at some distance from a schoolhouse
we decided to continue this arrangement for the winter with the three
younger children. I felt that Merton should go to school as soon as
possible, but he pleaded hard for a reprieve until the last of October,
saying that he did not wish to begin before Junior. As we still had a
great deal to do, and as the boy had set his heart on some fall
shooting, I yielded, he promising to study all the harder when he began.</p>
<p id="id01216">I added, however: "The evenings have grown so long that you can write
for half an hour after supper, and then we will review your arithmetic
together. It will do me good as well as you."</p>
<p id="id01217">During the ensuing weeks we carried out this plan partially, but after
a busy day in the open air we were apt to nod over our tasks. We were
both taught the soundness of the principle that brain work should
precede physical exercise.</p>
<p id="id01218">The 1st day of October was bright, clear, and mild, and we welcomed the
true beginning of fall in our latitude most gladly. This month competes
with May in its fitness for ideal country life. The children voted it
superior to all other months, feeling that a vista of unalloyed
delights was opening before them. Already the butternuts were falling
from several large trees on the place, and the burrs on the chestnuts
were plump with their well-shielded treasures. Winnie and Bobsey began
to gather these burrs from the lower limbs of an immense tree, eighteen
feet in circumference, and to stamp out the half-brown nuts within.</p>
<p id="id01219">"One or two frosts will ripen them and open the burrs," I said, and
then the children began to long for the frost which I dreaded.</p>
<p id="id01220">While I still kept the younger children busy for a few hours every
clear morning in the garden, and especially at clipping the runners
from the strawberry plants in the field, they were given ample time to
gather their winter hoards of nuts. This pursuit afforded them endless
items for talk, Bobsey modestly assuring us that he alone would gather
about a million bushels of butternuts, and almost as many chestnuts and
walnuts. "What will the squirrels do then?" I asked.</p>
<p id="id01221">"They must do as I do," he cried; "pick up and carry off as fast as
they can. They'll have a better chance than me, too, for they can work
all day long. The little scamps are already taking the nuts off the
trees—I've seen 'em, and I wish Merton would shoot 'em all."</p>
<p id="id01222">"Well, Merton," said I, laughing, "I suppose that squirrels are proper
game for you; but I hope that you and Junior won't shoot robins. They
are too useful a bird to kill, and I feel grateful for all the music
they've given us during the past summer. I know the law permits you to
shoot them now, but you and Junior should be more civilized than such a
law."</p>
<p id="id01223">"If we don't get 'em, everybody else will, and we might as well have
our share," he replied.</p>
<p id="id01224">I knew that there was no use in drawing the reins too tight, and so I
said: "I have a proposition to make to you and Junior. I'd like you
both to promise not to shoot robins except on the wing. That will teach
you to be expert and quick-eyed. A true sportsman is not one who tries
to kill as much game as possible, but to kill scientifically,
skilfully. There is more pleasure in giving your game a chance, and in
bringing it down with a fine long shot, than in slaughtering the poor
creatures like chickens in a coop. Anybody can shoot a robin, sitting
on a bough a few yards off, but to bring one down when in rapid flight
is the work of a sportsman. Never allow yourself to be known as a mere
'pot-hunter.' For my part, I had rather live on pork than on robins or
any useful birds."</p>
<p id="id01225">He readily agreed not to fire at robins except when flying, and to
induce Junior to do likewise. I was satisfied that not many of my
little favorites would suffer.</p>
<p id="id01226">"Very well," I said, "I'll coax Mr. Jones to let Junior off to-morrow,
and you can have the entire day to get your hands in. This evening you
can go down to the village and buy a stock of ammunition."</p>
<p id="id01227">The boy went to his work happy and contented.</p>
<p id="id01228">"Papa, where can we dry our butternuts?" Winnie asked.</p>
<p id="id01229">"I'll fix a place on the roof of the shed right away," I said. "Its
slope is very gradual, and if I nail some slats on the lower side you
can spread the millions of bushels that you and Bobsey will gather."</p>
<p id="id01230">Now Bobsey had a little wagon, and, having finished his morning stint
of work, he, with Mousie and Winnie, started off to the nearest
butternut-tree; and during the remainder of the day, with the exception
of the time devoted to lessons, loads came often to the shed, against
which I had left a ladder. By night they had at least one of the
million bushels spread and drying.</p>
<p id="id01231">As they brought in their last load about five o'clock in the afternoon<br/>
I said to them, "Come and see what I've got."<br/></p>
<p id="id01232">I led the way to the sty, and there were grunting three half-grown
pigs. Now that the pen was ready I had waited no longer, and, having
learned from Rollins that he was willing to sell some of his stock, had
bought three sufficiently large to make good pork by the 1st of
December.</p>
<p id="id01233">The children welcomed the new-comers with shouts; but I said: "That
won't do. You'll frighten them so that they'll try to jump out of the
pen. Run now and pick up a load of apples in your wagon and throw them
to the pigs. They'll understand and like such a welcoming better;" and
so it proved.</p>
<p id="id01234">At supper I said: "Children, picking up apples, which was such fun this
evening, will hereafter be part of your morning work, for a while. In
the room over the sty is a bin which must be filled with the fallen
apples before any nuts can be gathered."</p>
<p id="id01235">Even Bobsey laughed at the idea that this was work; but I knew that it
would soon become so. Then Mousie exclaimed, "Papa, do you know that
the red squirrels are helping us to gather nuts?"</p>
<p id="id01236">"If so, certainly without meaning it. How?"</p>
<p id="id01237">"Well, as we were coming near one of the trees we saw a squirrel among
the branches, and we hid behind a bush to watch him. We soon found that
he was tumbling down the nuts, for he would go to the end of a limb and
bite cluster after cluster. The thought that we would get the nuts so
tickled Bobsey that he began to laugh aloud, and then the squirrel ran
barking away."</p>
<p id="id01238">"You needn't crow so loud, Bobsey," I said. "The squirrel will fill
many a hole in hollow trees before winter, in spite of you."</p>
<p id="id01239">"I'll settle his business before he steals many more of our nuts,"
spoke up Merton.</p>
<p id="id01240">"You know the squirrel wasn't stealing, my boy. The nuts grew for him
as truly as for you youngsters. At the same time I suppose he will form
part of a pot-pie before long."</p>
<p id="id01241">"I hate to think that such pretty little creatures should be killed,"
said Mousie.</p>
<p id="id01242">"I feel much the same," I admitted; "and yet Merton will say we cannot
indulge in too much sentiment. You know that we read that red squirrels
are mischievous in the main. They tumble little birds out of their
nests, carry off corn, and I have seen them gnawing apples for the sake
of the seeds. It wouldn't do for them to become too plentiful.
Moreover, game should have its proper place as food, and as a means of
recreation. We raise chickens and kill them. Under wise laws, well
enforced, nature would fill the woods, fields, and mountains with
partridges, quail, rabbits, and other wholesome food. Remember what an
old and thickly settled land England is, yet the country is alive with
game. There it is protected on great estates, but here the people must
agree to protect it for themselves."</p>
<p id="id01243">"Junior says," Merton explained, "that the partridges and rabbits in
the mountains are killed off by foxes and wild-cats and wood-choppers
who catch them in traps and snares."</p>
<p id="id01244">"I fancy the wood-choppers do the most harm. If I had my way, there
would be a big bounty for the destruction of foxes, and a heavy fine
for all trappers of game. The country would be tenfold more interesting
if it were full of wild, harmless, useful creatures. I hope the time
will come when our streams will be again thoroughly stocked with fish,
and our wild lands with game. If hawks, foxes, trappers, and other
nuisances could be abolished, there would be space on yonder mountains
for partridges to flourish by the million. I hope, as the country grows
older, that the people will intelligently co-work with nature in
preserving and increasing all useful wild life. Every stream, lake, and
pond could be crowded with fish, and every grove and forest afford a
shelter and feeding-ground for game. There should be a wise
guardianship of wild life, such as we maintain over our poultry-yards,
and skill exercised in increasing it. Then nature would supplement our
labors, and furnish a large amount of delicious food at little cost."</p>
<p id="id01245">"Well, papa, I fear I shall be gray before your fine ideas are carried
out. From what Junior says, I guess that Bagley and his children, and
others like them, will get more game this winter than we will, and
without firing a shot. They are almost as wild as the game itself, and
know just where to set their snares for it. I can't afford to wait
until it's all killed off, or till that good time comes of which you
speak, either. I hope to shoot enough for a pot-pie at least to-morrow,
and to have very good sport while about it."</p>
<p id="id01246">"I have good news about the Bagley children," said my wife. "I was down
there to-day, and all the children begin school next Monday. Between
clothes which our children have outgrown, and what Mrs. Bagley has been
able to buy and make, all three of the young Bagleys make a very
respectable appearance. I took it upon myself to tell the children that
if they went to school regularly we would make them nice Christmas
presents."</p>
<p id="id01247">"And I confirm the bargain heartily," I cried. "Merton, look out for
yourself, or the Bagley boy will get ahead of you at school."</p>
<p id="id01248">He laughed and, with Junior, started for the village, to get their
powder and shot.</p>
<p id="id01249">The next morning after preparing a good lot of cartridges before
breakfast, the two boys started, and, having all day before them, took
their lunches with the intention of exploring Schunemunk Mountain. The
squirrels, birds, and rabbits near home were reserved for odd times
when the lads could slip away for a few hours only.</p>
<p id="id01250">Our new barn, now about completed, gave my wife and me as much pleasure
as the nuts and game afforded the children. I went through it, adding
here and there some finishing touches and little conveniences, a
painter meanwhile giving it a final coat of dark, cheap wash.</p>
<p id="id01251">Our poultry-house was now ready for use, and I said to Winnie,<br/>
"To-night we will catch the chickens and put them in it."<br/></p>
<p id="id01252">The old horse had already been established in the stable, and I
resolved that the cow should come in from this time. In the afternoon I
began turning over the fodder corn, and saw that a very tew more days
would cure it. Although I decided not to begin the main husking until
after the middle of the month, I gathered enough ears to start the pigs
on the fattening process. Toward night I examined the apples, and
determined to adopt old Mr. Jarmson's plan of picking the largest and
ripest at once, leaving the smaller and greener fruit to mature until
the last of the month. The dark cellar was already half filled with
potatoes, but the space left for such apples as we should pick was
ready. From time to time when returning from the village I had brought
up empty barrels; and in some of these, earlier kinds, like tall
pippins and greenings, had been packed and shipped to Mr. Bogart. By
his advice I had resolved to store the later varieties and those which
would keep well, disposing of them gradually to the best advantage. I
made up my mind that the morrow should see the beginning of our chief
labor in the orchard. I had sold a number of barrels of windfalls, but
they brought a price that barely repaid us. My examination of the trees
now convinced me that there should be no more delay in taking off the
large and fine-looking fruit.</p>
<p id="id01253">With the setting sun Merton and Junior arrived, scarcely able to drag
their weary feet down the lane. Nevertheless their fatigue was caused
by efforts entirely after their own hearts, and they declared that they
had had a "splendid time." Then they emptied their game-bags. Each of
the boys had a partridge, Merton one rabbit, and Junior two. Merton
kept up his prestige by showing two gray squirrels to Junior's one. Bed
squirrels abounded, and a few robins, brought down on the wing as the
boys had promised.</p>
<p id="id01254">I was most interested in the rattles of the deadly snake which Junior
had nearly stepped on and then shot.</p>
<p id="id01255">"Schunemunk is full of rattlers," Junior said.</p>
<p id="id01256">"Please don't hunt there any more then," I replied.</p>
<p id="id01257">"No, we'll go into the main Highlands to the east'ard next time."</p>
<p id="id01258">Merton had also brought down a chicken hawk; and the game, spread out
on the kitchen table, suggested much interesting wild life, about which
I said we should read during the coming winter, adding: "Well, boys,
you have more than earned your salt in your sport to-day, for each of
you has supplied two game dinners. We shall live like aldermen now, I
suppose."</p>
<p id="id01259">"Yes," cried Merton, "whether you call me 'pot-hunter' or not, I mean
my gun to pay its way."</p>
<p id="id01260">"I've no objections to that," was my laughing answer, "as long as you
shoot like a sportsman, and not like a butcher. Your guns, boys, will
pay best, however, in making you strong, and in giving you some
well-deserved fun after your busy summer. I feel that you have both
earned the right to a good deal of play this month, and that you will
study all the harder for it by and by."</p>
<p id="id01261">"I hope you'll talk father into that doctrine," said Junior, as he sat
down to supper with us.</p>
<p id="id01262">The boys were drowsy as soon as they had satisfied their keen
appetites, and Mousie laughed at them, saying that she had been reading
how the boa-constrictor gorged himself and then went to sleep, and that
they reminded her of the snake.</p>
<p id="id01263">"I guess I'll go home after that," said Junior.</p>
<p id="id01264">"Now you know I was only poking a little fun," said Mousie, ruefully,
as she ran into the kitchen and gathered up his game for him, looking
into his face so archly and coaxingly that he burst out: "You beat all
the game in the country. I'll shoot a blue jay, and give you its wings
for your hat, see if I don't;" and with this compliment and promise he
left the child happy.</p>
<p id="id01265">Merton was allowed to sleep late the next morning, and was then set to
work in the orchard, I dividing my time between aiding in picking the
apples and turning over the fodder corn.</p>
<p id="id01266">"You can climb like a squirrel, Merton, and I must depend on you
chiefly for gathering the apples. Handle them like eggs, so as not to
bruise them, and then they will keep better. After we have gone over
the trees once and have stacked the fodder corn you shall have a good
time with your gun."</p>
<p id="id01267">For the next few days we worked hard, and nearly finished the first
picking of the apples, also getting into shocks the greater part of the
corn. Then came a storm of wind and rain, and the best of the apples on
one tree, which, we had neglected, were soon lying on the ground,
bruised and unfit for winter keeping.</p>
<p id="id01268">"You see, Merton," I said, "that we must manage to attend to the trees
earlier next year. Live and learn."</p>
<p id="id01269">The wind came out of the north the day after the storm, and Mr. Jones
shouted, as he passed down the road, "Hard frost to-night!"</p>
<p id="id01270">Then indeed we bustled around. Mousie's flowers were carried in, the
Lima-bean poles, still hanging full of green pods more or less filled
out, were pulled up and stacked together under a tree, some
tomato-vines, with their green and partially ripe fruit, were taken up
by the roots and hung under the shed, while over some other vines a
covering was thrown toward night.</p>
<p id="id01271">"We may thus keep a supply of this wholesome vegetable some weeks
longer," I said.</p>
<p id="id01272">Everything that we could protect was looked after; but our main task
was the gathering of all the grapes except those hanging against the
sides of the house. These I believed would be so sheltered as to escape
injury. We had been enjoying this delicious fruit for some time,
carrying out our plan, however, of reserving the best for the market.
The berries on the small clusters were just as sweet and luscious, and
the children were content.</p>
<p id="id01273">Sure enough, on the following morning white hoar-frost covered the
grass and leaves.</p>
<p id="id01274">"No matter," cried Winnie, at the breakfast-table; "the chestnut burrs
are opening."</p>
<p id="id01275">By frequent stirring the rest of the corn-fodder was soon dried again,
and was stacked like the rest. Then we took up the beets and carrots,
and stored them also in the root cellar.</p>
<p id="id01276">We had frost now nearly every night, and many trees were gorgeous in
their various hues, while others, like the butternuts, were already
losing their foliage.</p>
<p id="id01277">The days were filled with delight for the children. The younger ones
were up with the sun to gather the nuts that had fallen during the
night, Merton accompanying them with his gun, bringing in squirrels
daily, and now and then a robin shot while flying. His chief exploit
however was the bagging of half a dozen quails that unwarily chose the
lower part of our meadow as a resort. Then he and Junior took several
long outings in the Highlands, with fair success; for the boys had
become decidedly expert.</p>
<p id="id01278">"If we only had a dog," said Merton, "we could do wonders."</p>
<p id="id01279">"Both of you save your money next summer, and buy one," I replied;<br/>
"I'll give you a chance, Merton."<br/></p>
<p id="id01280">By the middle of the month the weather became dry and warm, and the
mountains were almost hidden in an Indian summer haze.</p>
<p id="id01281">"Now for the corn-husking," I said, "and the planting of the ground in
raspberries, and then we shall be through with our chief labors for the
year."</p>
<p id="id01282">Merton helped me at the husking, but I allowed him to keep his gun
near, and he obtained an occasional shot which enlivened his toil. Two
great bins over the sty and poultry-house received the yellow ears, the
longest and fairest being stored in one, and in the other the
"nubbin's," speedily to be transformed into pork. Part of the stalks
were tied up and put in the old "corn-stalk barn," as we called it, and
the remainder were stacked near. Our cow certainly was provided for.</p>
<p id="id01283">Brindle now gave too little milk for our purpose, whereas a farmer with
plenty of fodder could keep her over the winter to advantage. I traded
her off to a neighboring farmer for a new milch cow, and paid twenty
dollars to boot. We were all great milk-topers, while the cream nearly
supplied us with butter.</p>
<p id="id01284">Having removed the corn, Mr. Jones plowed the field deeply, and then
Merton and I set out the varieties of raspberries which promised best
in our locality, making the hills four feet apart in the row, and the
rows five feet from one another. I followed the instructions of my
fruit book closely, and cut back the canes of the plants to six inches,
and sunk the roots so deep as to leave about four inches of soil above
them, putting two or three plants in the hill. Then over and about the
hills we put on the surface of the ground two shovelfuls of compost,
finally covering the plants beneath a slight mound of earth. This would
protect them from the severe frost of winter.</p>
<p id="id01285">These labors and the final picking of the apples brought us to the last
week of the month. Of the smaller fruit, kept clean and sound for the
purpose, we reserved enough to make two barrels of cider, of which one
should go into vinegar, and the other be kept sweet, for our
nut-crackings around the winter fire. Bobsey's dream of "millions of
bushels" of nuts had not been realized, yet enough had been dried and
stored away to satisfy even his eyes. Not far away an old cider-mill
was running steadily, and we soon had the barrels of russet nectar in
our cellar. Then came Saturday, and Merton and Junior were given one
more day's outing in the mountains with their guns. On the following
Monday they trudged off to the nearest public school, feeling that they
had been treated liberally, and that brain-work must now begin in
earnest. Indeed from this time forth, for months to come, school and
lessons took precedence of everything else, and the proper growing of
boys and girls was the uppermost thought.</p>
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