Country life -- Juvenile fiction; Families -- Juvenile fiction; Farm life -- Juvenile fiction; New York (State) -- Juvenile fiction
Thus far all had gone so well that I began to fear that a change must
take place soon, in order that our experience should be more like the
common lot of humanity. When at last I took all the children out on the
afterdeck, to remove the first edge of their curiosity, I saw that
there was at least an ominous change in the weather. The morning had
been mild, with a lull in the usual March winds. Now a scud of clouds
was drifting swiftly in from the eastward, and chilly, fitful gusts
began to moan and sigh about us. A storm was evidently coming, and my
hope was that we might reach our haven before it began. I kept my fears
to myself, and we watched the long lines of carts converging toward the
gang-planks of our own and other steamboats.
"See, youngsters," I cried, "all this means commerce. These loads and
loads of things will soon be at stores and homes up the river,
supplying the various needs of the people. Tomorrow the residents along
the river will bring what they have to sell to this same boat, and by
daylight next morning carts will be carrying country produce and
manufactured articles all over the city. Thus you see commerce is made
by people supplying themselves and each other with what they need. Just
as soon as we can bring down a crate of berries and send it to Mr.
Bogart we shall be adding to the commerce of the world in the best way.
We shall become what are called the 'producers,' and but for this class
the world would soon come to an end."
"'Rah!" cried Bobsey, "I'm goin' to be a p'oducer."
He promised, however, to be a consumer for a long time to come,
especially of patience. His native fearlessness soon asserted itself,
and he wanted to go everywhere and see everything, asking questions
about machinery, navigation, river craft, the contents of every box,
bale, or barrel we saw, till I felt that I was being used like a town
pump. I pulled him back to the cabin, resolving to stop his mouth for a
time at least with the contents of our lunch basket.
Winnie was almost as bad, or as good, perhaps I should say; for,
however great the drain and strain on me might be, I knew that these
active little brains were expanding to receive a host of new ideas.
Mousie was quiet as usual, and made no trouble, but I saw with renewed
hope that this excursion into the world awakened in her a keen and
natural interest. Ever since the project of country life had been
decided upon, her listless, weary look had been giving place to one of
greater animation. The hope of flowers and a garden had fed her life
like a deep, hidden spring.
To Merton I had given larger liberty, and had said: "It is not
necessary for you to stay with me all the time. Come and go on the boat
and wharf as you wish. Pick up what knowledge you can. All I ask is
that you will use good sense in keeping out of trouble and danger."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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