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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me in, and the conversation turned toold times and the old friends before Mr. Bingham hadfirst moved to town. Am I glad to get back to the country? laughed Mr.Bingham. No need to ask that question. Ive tried bothways of living, and the countrys the place for me. But,he added, looking toward Dick with a knowing glance,a good deal depends on knowing how to live in the coun-try, and Im not sure that I should enjoy Kving here quiteso well if it were not for Dick. We both get a good dealmore pleasure out of farming because Dick has learnedhow to farm; and it would not be much fun trying to runa dairy-farm if Dick had not learned how to make thedairy-farm pay. Give your farm stock every possible care. Do notoverwork them or ill-use them. Do not let them sufferfrom exposure to rain and cold. Feed them at regularhours, and make a study of the kinds of food they require.Good shelter, good food, clean quarters, and kindly usage—this is a form of investment which is sure to bring amplereturns.
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Out on the frozen uplands. THE PROMISE OF BREAD Out on the frozen uplands,Underneath the snow and sleet,In the bosom of the ploughlandSleeps the Promise of the Wheat;With the ice for head and foot stone,And a snowy shroud outspread.In the frost-locked tomb of Winter295 296 COUNTRY LIFE READER Sleeps the Miracle of Bread ! With its hundred thousand reapers And its hundred thousand men, And the click of guard and sickle And the flails that turn again; And drovers shout and snap of whips And creak of horses tugs, And a thin red line o gingham girls That carry water-jugs; And yellow stalks and dagger beards That stab through cotton clothes, And farmer boys a-shocking wheat In long and crooked rows; And dust-veiled men on mountain stacks. Whose pitchforks flash and gleam; And threshing-engines shrieking songs In syllables of steam; And elevators painted red That lift their giant arms And beckon to the Harvest God Above the brooding farms; And loaded trains that hasten forth, A hungry world

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