Mary at the Farm | Page 7

manufacture,
the mill was built more for its usefulness than to please the eye.
[Illustration: THE OLD MILL]
"Aunt Sarah, what is pumpernickel?" inquired Mary, "is it like rye
bread?"
"No, my dear, not exactly, it is a dark-colored bread, used in some parts
of Germany. Professor Schmidt tells me the bread is usually composed
of a mixture of barley flour and rye flour. Some I have eaten looks very
much like our own brown bread. Pumpernickel is considered a very
wholesome bread by the Germans--and I presume one might learn to
relish it, but I should prefer good, sweet, home-made rye bread. I was
told by an old gentleman who came to this country from Germany
when a boy, that pumpernickel was used in the German army years ago,
and was somewhat similar to 'hard tack,' furnished our soldiers in the
Civil War. But I cannot vouch for the truth of this assertion."
"Aunt Sarah," said Mary later, "Frau Schmidt tells me the Professor
sends his rye to the mill and requests that every part of it be ground
without separating--making what he calls 'whole rye flour,' and from
this Frau Schmidt bakes wholesome, nutritious bread which they call
'pumpernickel,' She tells me she uses about one-third of this 'whole rye
flour' to two-thirds white bread flour when baking bread, and she
considers bread made from this whole grain more wholesome and
nutritious than the bread made from our fine rye flour."
CHAPTER IV.
JOHN LANDIS.
The Bucks County farmer, John Landis, rather more scholarly in
appearance than men ordinarily found in agricultural districts, was
possessed of an adust complexion, caused by constant exposure to wind
and weather; tall and spare, without an ounce of superfluous fat;

energetic, and possessed of remarkable powers of endurance. He had a
kindly, benevolent expression; his otherwise plain face was redeemed
by fine, expressive brown eyes. Usually silent and preoccupied, and
almost taciturn, yet he possessed a fund of dry humor. An
old-fashioned Democrat, his wife was a Republican. He usually
accompanied Aunt Sarah to her church, the Methodist, although he was
a member of the German Reformed, and declared he had changed his
religion to please her, but change his politics, never. A member of the
Masonic Lodge, his only diversion was an occasional trip to the city
with a party of the "boys" to attend a meeting of the "Shriners."
Aunt Sarah protested. "The idea, John, at your age, being out so late at
night and returning from the city on the early milk train the following
morning, and then being still several miles from home. It's scandalous!"
He only chuckled to himself; and what the entertainment had been,
which was provided at Lulu Temple, and which he had so thoroughly
enjoyed, was left to her imagination. His only remark when questioned
was: "Sarah, you're not in it. You are not a 'Shriner.'" And as John had
in every other particular fulfilled her ideal of what constitutes a good
husband, Sarah, like the wise woman she was, allowed the subject to
drop.
A good, practical, progressive farmer, John Landis constantly read,
studied and pondered over the problem of how to produce the largest
results at least cost of time and labor. His crops were skillfully planted
in rich soil, carefully cultivated and usually harvested earlier than those
of his neighbors. One summer he raised potatoes so large that many of
them weighed one pound each, and new potatoes and green peas, fresh
from the garden, invariably appeared on Aunt Sarah's table the first of
July, and sometimes earlier. I have known him to raise cornstalks
which reached a height of thirteen feet, which were almost equaled by
his wife's sunflower stalks, which usually averaged nine feet in height.
Aunt Sarah, speaking one day to Mary, said: "Your Uncle John is an
unusually silent man. I have heard him remark that when people talk
continuously they are either very intelligent or tell untruths." He,
happening to overhear her remark, quickly retorted:

"The man who speaks a dozen tongues, When all is said and done,
Don't hold a match to him who knows How to keep still in one."
When annoyed at his wife's talkativeness, her one fault in her husband's
eyes, if he thought she had a fault, he had a way of saying, "Alright,
Sarah, Alright," as much as to say "that is final; you have said enough,"
in his peculiar, quick manner of speaking, which Aunt Sarah never
resented, he being invariably kind and considerate in other respects.
John Landis was a successful farmer because he loved his work, and
found joy in it. While not unmindful of the advantages possessed by the
educated farmer of the present day, he said, "'Tis not college lore our
boys need so much as practical