Mary at the Farm | Page 5

Love to Love a Mason, 'Cause a Mason
Never Tells.'"
They passed cultivated farms. Inside many of the rail fences, inclosing
fields of grain or clover, were planted numberless sour cherry trees,
snowy with bloom, the ground underneath white with fallen petals. The
air was sweet with the perfume of the half-opened buds on the apple
trees in the near-by orchards and rose-like pink blossoms of the
"flowering" crab-apple, in the door yards. Swiftly they drove through
cool, green, leafy woods, crossing a wooden bridge spanning a small
stream, so shallow that the stones at the bottom were plainly to be seen.
A loud splash, as the sound of carriage wheels broke the uninterrupted
silence, and a commotion in the water gave evidence of the sudden
disappearance of several green-backed frogs, sunning themselves on a
large, moss-grown rock, projecting above the water's edge; from shady
nooks and crevices peeped clusters of early white violets; graceful
maidenhair ferns, and hardier members of the fern family, called
"Brake," uncurled their graceful, sturdy fronds from the carpet of green

moss and lichen at the base of tree trunks, growing along the water's
edge. Partly hidden by rocks along the bank of the stream, nestled a few
belated cup-shaped anemones or "Wind Flowers," from which most of
the petals had blown, they being one of the earliest messengers of
Spring. Through the undergrowth in the woods, in passing, could be
seen the small buds of the azalea or wild honeysuckle, "Sheep's
Laurel," the deep pink buds on the American Judas tree, trailing vines
of "Tea Berry," and beneath dead leaves one caught an occasional
glimpse of fragrant, pink arbutus. In marshy places beside the creek,
swaying in the wind from slender stems, grew straw-colored,
bell-shaped blossoms of "Adder's Tongue" or "Dog Tooth Violet," with
their mottled green, spike-shaped leaves. In the shadow of a large rock
grew dwarf huckleberry bushes, wild strawberry vines, and among
grasses of many varieties grew patches of white and pink-tinted
Alsatian clover.
Leaving behind the spicy, fragrant, "woodsy" smell of wintergreen,
birch and sassafras, and the faint, sweet scent of the creamy, wax-like
blossoms of "Mandrake" or May apple, peeping from beneath large,
umbrella-like, green leaves they emerged at last from the dim, cool
shadows of the woods into the warm, bright sunlight again.
Almost before Mary realized it, the farm house could be seen in the
distance, and her Uncle called her attention to his new, red barn, which
had been built since her last visit to the farm, and which, in her Uncle's
estimation, was of much greater importance than the house.
Mary greeted with pleasure the old landmarks so familiar to her on
former visits. They passed the small, stone school house at the
crossroads, and in a short time the horses turned obediently into the
lane leading to the barn a country lane in very truth, a tangle of
blackberry vines, wild rose bushes, by farmers called "Pasture Roses,"
interwoven with bushes of sumach, wild carrots and golden rod.
Mary insisted that her Uncle drive directly to the barn, as was his usual
custom, while she was warmly welcomed at the farm house gate by her
Aunt. As her Uncle led away the horses, he said, "I will soon join you,
Mary, 'to break of our bread and eat of our salt,' as they say in the

'Shrine.'"
On their way to the house, Mary remarked: "I am so glad we reached
here before dusk. The country is simply beautiful! Have you ever
noticed, Aunt Sarah, what a symphony in green is the yard? Look at the
buds on the maples and lilacs--a faint yellow green--and the blue-green
pine tree near by; the leaves of the German iris are another shade; the
grass, dotted with yellow dandelions, and blue violets; the straight,
grim, reddish-brown stalks of the peonies before the leaves have
unfolded, all roofed over with the blossom-covered branches of pear,
apple and 'German Prune' trees. Truly, this must resemble Paradise!"
"Yes," assented her Aunt, "I never knew blossoms to remain on the
pear trees so long a time. We have had no 'blossom shower' as yet to
scatter them, but there will be showers tonight, I think, or I am no
prophet. I feel rain in the atmosphere, and Sibylla said a few moments
ago she heard a 'rain bird' in the mulberry tree."
"Aunt Sarah," inquired Mary, "is the rhubarb large enough to use?"
"Yes, indeed, we have baked rhubarb pies and have had a surfeit of
dandelion salad or 'Salat,' as our neighbors designate it. Your Uncle
calls 'dandelion greens' the farmers' spring tonic; that and 'celadine,'
that plant you see growing by the side of the house. Later in the season
it bears small, yellow flowers not unlike a very small buttercup