Dwellers in Arcady: The Story of an Abandoned FarmPaine, Albert Bigelow
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Dwellers in Arcady: The Story of an Abandoned Farm
Paine, Albert Bigelow
Abandoned farms -- Fiction; Farm life -- Fiction
At last we entered the Glen and recognized certain landmarks. It was a
somber place now--its aspect weirdly changed since the first days of our
coming. Then it had been a riot of summer-time, the cliffs a mat and
tangle of green that had shut us in. On this dull December evening, with
its vines and shrubs and gaunt trees bare, its pointed cedars and
hemlocks the only green, its dark water swirling under overhanging
rocks, it had become an entrance to Valhalla, the dim abode of the gods.
How friendly Westbury's lights looked when we crossed the bridge by the
mill and turned into the drive, and what gracious comfort there was in
his bright fire and warm, waiting supper. We did not go up the hill that
night. Good Old Beek found rest and food and society in Westbury's big
red barn.
IV
_The difficulty was to get busy_
I have referred more than once, I am sure, to my study behind the
chimney, a tiny place of about seven by nine feet, once, no doubt, the
"parlor bedroom." I selected it chiefly because of its size. I said one
could condense his thoughts so much better in a limited area. I shelved
one side and end of it to the ceiling, put dull-green paper on the
walls, padded its billowy floor with excelsior, put down dull-green
denim as a rug basis, and painted the woodwork to match. Then I set my
work-table in the center, where I could reach almost anything without
getting up; and certainly with its capable fireplace it was as cozy and
inviting a work-room as one would find in a week's travel.
The difficulty was to get busy at the condensing process. Work was
pressing. Not exactly the work, either, but the need of it. No, I mean
the necessity of it. It was the need of funds that was pressing--that is
what I have been trying to convey. With all the buying and improving,
and the loads of new indispensables that Westbury was constantly
bringing from the nearest town of size, the exchequer was running low. I
am not really so lazy, once I get started, but I have a constitutional
hesitancy in the matter of getting started. My will and enthusiasm are
both in good supply, but my ability to sit down and really begin is
elusive.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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