Mary at the Farm | Page 2

A Circular Rug Imitation of
Navajo Blankets Rug With Design Rug With Swastika in Centre Home
Manufactured Silk Prayer Rug Elizabeth Schmidt--"Laughing Water"
Articles in the Old Parlor Before It Was Modernized Other Articles in
the Old Parlor Before It Was Modernized Palisades, or Narrows of
Nockamixon The Canal at the Narrows The Narrows, or Pennsylvania
Palisades Top Rock Ringing Rocks of Bucks County, Pennsylvania
High Falls Big Rock at Rocky Dale The Old Towpath at the Narrows
Old Earthenware Dish Igraffito Plate Old Plates Fund in Aunt Sarah's
Corner Cupboard Old Style Lamps Old Taufschien The Old Store on
Ridge Road Catching Elbadritchels Old Egg Basket at the Farm A

Potato Pretzel Loaf of Rye Bread A "Brod Corvel," or Bread Basket
Church Which Sheltered Liberty Bell in 1777-78 Liberty Bell Tablet
Durham Cave The Woodland Stream Polly Schmidt An Old-Fashioned
Bucks County Bake-Oven
[Illustration: MARY]
CHAPTER I.
MARY'S LETTERS RECEIVED AT CLEAR SPRING FARM.
One morning in early spring, John Landis, a Pennsylvania German
farmer living in Schuggenhaus Township, Bucks County, on opening
his mail box, fastened to a tree at the crossroads (for the convenience of
rural mail carriers) found one letter for his wife Sarah, the envelope
addressed in the well-known handwriting of her favorite niece, Mary
Midleton, of Philadelphia.
[Illustration]
A letter being quite an event at "Clear Spring" farm, he hastened with it
to the house, finding "Aunt Sarah," as she was called by every one
(Great Aunt to Mary), in the cheery farm house kitchen busily engaged
kneading sponge for a loaf of rye bread, which she carefully deposited
on a well-floured linen cloth, in a large bowl for the final raising.
Carefully adjusting her glasses more securely over the bridge of her
nose, she turned at the sound of her husband's footsteps. Seeing the
letter in his hand she inquired: "What news, John?" Quickly opening
the letter handed her, she, after a hasty perusal, gave one of the
whimsical smiles peculiar to her and remarked decisively, with a
characteristic nod of her head: "John, Mary Midleton intends to marry,
else why, pray tell me, would she write of giving up teaching her
kindergarten class in the city, to spend the summer with us on the farm
learning, she writes, to keep house, cook, economize and to learn how
to get the most joy and profit from life?"
"Well, well! Mary is a dear girl, why should she not think of

marrying?" replied her husband; "she is nineteen. Quite time, I think,
she should learn housekeeping--something every young girl should
know. We should hear of fewer divorces and a less number of failures
of men in business, had their wives been trained before marriage to be
good, thrifty, economical housekeepers and, still more important, good
homemakers. To be a helpmate in every sense of the word is every
woman's duty, I think, when her husband works early and late to
procure the means to provide for her comforts and luxuries and a
competency for old age. Write Mary to come at once, and under your
teaching she may, in time, become as capable a housekeeper and as
good a cook as her Aunt Sarah; and, to my way of thinking, there is
none better, my dear."
Praise from her usually reticent husband never failed to deepen the tint
of pink on Aunt Sarah's still smooth, unwrinkled, youthful looking face,
made more charming by being framed in waves of silvery gray hair, on
which the "Hand of Time," in passing, had sprinkled some of the dust
from the road of life.
In size, Sarah Landis was a little below medium height, rather stout, or
should I say comfortable, and matronly looking; very erect for a
woman of her age. Her bright, expressive, gray eyes twinkled
humorously when she talked. She had developed a fine character by her
years of unselfish devotion to family and friends. Her splendid sense of
humor helped her to overcome difficulties, and her ability to rise above
her environment, however discouraging their conditions, prevented her
from being unhappy or depressed by the small annoyances met daily.
She never failed to find joy and pleasure in the faithful performance of
daily tasks, however small or insignificant. Aunt Sarah attributed her
remarkably fine, clear complexion, seldom equalled in a woman of her
years, to good digestion and excellent health; her love of fresh air, fruit
and clear spring water. She usually drank from four to five tumblerfuls
of water a day. She never ate to excess, and frequently remarked: "I
think more people suffer from over-eating than from insufficient food."
An advocate of deep breathing, she spent as much of her time as she
could spare from household duties in the open air.

[Illustration: AUNT SARAH]
Sarah Landis was not what one would call beautiful,