Vermont Watchman And State Journal

From the American Agriculturist.

A Morning Peep into Farmer Brown's Kitchen.

There are no class of men more independent than farmers. Their comforts are less affected than others by changes in the market. A reduction in prices may deprive them of some gratifications, but it does not diminish their supply of wholesome food, or deprive them of fuel. A rise in the market brings money into their pockets, and a man who can sell a load of potatoes for $50, as one has recently done at Rochester, may well say that 'after all, farming is a pretty good business.' It is a business, however, which in the season of labor admits of no idleness. So soon as frost disappears, up is busy industry, the farmer's wife and daughters are obliged to be diligent to have the house in order—the paint cleaned, the carpet shaken, the walls white washed, and the smoke and dust of winter removed, to give time for butter making, cheese making, &c.

What a bustle in farmer Brown's home-like kitchen. Breakfast for a half-dozen men to be cooked—and a substantial one too—for it is to keep up the supply of bone and muscle which is to fill the barns with plenty, the granary with its rich treasures of wheat, rye and oats, and the golden corn, that will display its attractions in the great crib, and court through the wide crevice, the caresses of the wind. With what satisfaction that rasher of bacon, so finely cured in early winter, is welcomed by the palates of those robust men. Those fried eggs are fine; that hot corn bread is delicious. How dry and mealy those potatoes! they must be Mercers. The rye bread and the wheat could not be improved; the butter is yellow and sweet, and tastes of the fresh green grass; the coffee is clear; the cream rich, and there is scalded milk for those who like it, to use with their cream. How tempting it looks. It would almost entice a Grahamite to break his resolutions, and just drink a little to see how it tastes. She who has presided over this breakfast, is certainly a good housekeeper, or everything would not be so perfectly cooked, and so nicely arranged on the snowy cloth which covers the table. The whole room has an air of comfort and thrift. The ceiling, to be sure, is low, and every thing is plain, but there are book-shelves between two of those windows, well filled with different agricultural works, and they give evidence of having been thoroughly read. There is one shelf, I see, for the ladies—Miss Beecher's Domestic Economy and her Recipe Book, The Mysteries of Bee-keeping, and several other volumes on those independent little folks may be found on it. Books of general literature are in the parlor, which has quite a little library for the leisure hours of the family in the long winter evenings, when they gather around that center table, from which a vase of wild-flowers now sends its perfume throughout the shaded room. There are newspapers on that small table in the corner. I recognize the recent numbers of the Agriculturist, neatly stitched in a paste-board cover to await a binding at the close of the year. The Tribune, the laboring man's friend, and the newspaper of the county, are regular visitors. There are juvenile papers for the children. The Little Pilgrim has found his way into that neat and tiny kitchen, and he meets a warm welcome. Those boys look as though they would make men—true men—with a character that will be respected and honored. Their brown faces are ruddy with the glow of health, their eyes beam with intelligence, and they are ready either for frolic or work. How unusually neat all those assembled around that inviting breakfast-table appear. The men are required to be particular. There is a scraper at the door, and a mat, both of which are to be used. A broom hangs near by, with which they brush off the dust which has accumulated in their labor. The men, when first employed, consider all this scraping and brushing unnecessary, but they feel obliged to follow Mr. Brown's example and instructions, and find their self-respect so increased by their neatness, that they soon do voluntarily what they commenced reluctantly, and if they accidentally soil the clean floor, they offer an apology. The breakfast has been finished with the greatest satisfaction, and the men go forth to the toil of the day. The women roll up their sleeves, put on their big aprons, and prepare for their appropriate duties.

Anne Hope.