Josiah in New York

CHAPTER I.THE SHINDLE FARM.

On this particular day an almanac would not have been needed to prove to the visitor at the Shindle Farm that winter was near at hand.

The wide-spreading trees leading from the road to the low-studded house, which made up in breadth what it lacked in height, had already put on their autumnal dress of crimson, gold, and brown, embroidered here and there with green left over from the last summer’s wardrobe. The enormous barn was crowded to overflowing with fruits of the harvest. Mows were heaped high[Pg 6] with sweet-scented hay, and the corn-bins filled almost to bursting. The granaries seemed to groan under their heavy burdens, and the sleek cattle, noting the lack of grass in the pastures, looked into the building now and then with an air of satisfaction because of the ample supply of food housed for their especial benefit.

The broad fields, so lately beautified with waving grass, golden grain, and nodding plumes of vegetables, were waiting for the mantle of snow with which they were to be covered until spring should come again.

The yellow pumpkins, dotting the brown earth like nuggets of gold, were all that remained uncared for among the varied fruits of Farmer Shindle’s industry.

The barn-yard fowls were fat, and looked so contented that it seemed certain they could have no forebodings of the Thanksgiving soon to come, while the sheep were comparing their new wool coats as if proud of the perfect-fitting garments.

In the roomy kitchen, whose well-scrubbed floor contrasted vividly with the bright brick hearth, were festoons of apples threaded on strings, like[Pg 7] a Christmas-tree’s pop-corn ornaments, and hung on convenient pegs by the thrifty housewife, who bent solicitously over the huge porcelain kettle wherein pumpkin rind was being converted into imitation citron.

Everything about the farm, animate or inanimate, appeared to be aware of winter’s approach; and none so plainly gave evidence of this fact as did the heir of the Shindle estate, Master Josiah.

He was concluding his share of the harvest labors by tying together large bunches of herbs which were to be hung in the broad-beamed attic to serve, at no distant day, either as pleasing condiments for the table, or distasteful tea for Josiah when his stomach should rebel against too heavy a burden.

He well knew the uses to which these herbs would be put, and treated them correspondingly.

The sage and summer savory were fastened together with tender care, and a far-away look of happy anticipation came into his eyes as he thought of the Thanksgiving turkey; while the pennyroyal and thoroughwort were bound up roughly and tightly, as if he wished to avenge[Pg 8] himself in advance on the disagreeable mixtures these herbs would form for his especial benefit.

This was to be the last of his duties on the farm for several days; and the most careless observer could have told, from his movements as well as the expression on his face, that some very decided change was near at hand.

Every few moments he ran to his room where a well-worn but serviceable leather valise stood half-packed with a miscellaneous assortment of wearing apparel and trinkets, and, after a hasty survey of the odd collection, returned to his work, each time consulting with his mother as to the possibility of a storm in the near future.

Three months previous Mr. Shindle had received as boarders from New York, five beneficiaries of the Fresh Air Fund in the persons of the Bartlett twins, their brother Tom, and Bob and little Jimmy Green.

These visitors, three of whom were too young to get into very much mischief, had spent a week at the farm; six whole days of pleasure unalloyed, save at certain intervals, and when they returned to their homes it was with the distinct understanding[Pg 9] that Josiah should pay them a visit as soon after the harvesting was ended as might be convenient.

Master Shindle’s parents had been parties to this agreement; and from the time he bade farewell to Bob and Tom at the railroad station, probably not a single day passed without his speaking of the promised visit.