"We have our seasons of leisure," returned Howard, "and yet, I assure you, we have employment enough to prize those periods. You would be surprised to find how much constant occupation every season demands. Spring is the great storehouse of our wealth, but we must toil to open its treasures; they are hid in the bowels of the earth." "You remind me," said Mrs. Draper, "of the story of the farmer who had two sons. To one he left a large sum of gold; to the other his farm, informing him he would find an equivalent portion hid in the earth. The one invested his money in merchandise, and made 'haste to grow rich;' the other dug every year with renewed hope of finding the gold, and continued planting and sowing as his father had done before him. At the end of fifteen years, they met on the same spot, the one a bankrupt, the other a thriving farmer. I suppose," added she, "I need not put the moral to the end of my tale, in imitation of AEsop's fables; you will find it out." "It is so applicable," said Howard, "to our present conversation, that I almost think it is an impromptu for my benefit." "Not for yours," said she; "you do not want it. But now tell me a little about your fanning seasons. Spring, I understand, must be a very busy one; but when you have ploughed and planted, what have you to do but sit down and wait?" "My dear sister," said Howard, "you, who know so much better than I do how to carry out your comparisons, can well understand that there is no time given us for idleness; while we wait the result of one part of our labors, we have other works to accomplish. Spring-time and harvest follow each other rapidly; we have to prepare our barns and granaries. Our mowing season is always one of our busiest. We have our anxieties, too;--we watch the clouds as they pass over us, and our spirits depend much on sunshine and rain; for an unexpected shower may destroy all our labors. When the grass is cut, we must make it into hay; and, when it is properly prepared, store it in the barns. After haying-time, there are usually roads, fences, and stone walls to repair, apples to gather in, and butter to pack down. Though autumn has come, and the harvest is gathered in, you must not suppose our ploughing is over. We turn up the ground, and leave it rough, as a preparation for the spring. A good farmer never allows the winter to take him by surprise. The cellars are to be banked up, the barns to be tightened, the cattle looked to,--the apples carefully barrelled, and the produce sent to market. We have long evenings for assorting our seeds, and for fireside enjoyment. Winter is the season for adjusting the accounts of the past year, and finding out whether we are thriving farmers. Depend upon it, we have no idle time."