The Abandoned Farmers: His Humorous Account of a Retreat from the City to the Farm — John Shaqi
The Abandoned Farmers: His Humorous Account of a Retreat from the City to the FarmCobb, Irvin S. (Irvin Shrewsbury)
General
The Abandoned Farmers: His Humorous Account of a Retreat from the City to the Farm
Cobb, Irvin S. (Irvin Shrewsbury)
Farms -- Recreational use -- United States -- Fiction; Humorous stories
The old house came down next, with some slight assistance from a crew of
wreckers. Being almost ready to come down of its own accord it met them
halfway. They had merely to pry into the foundations, hit her a hard
wallop in the ribs, and then run for their lives. From the wreckage
we reclaimed, out of the cellar, which was pre-Revolutionary, some
hand-hewn oak beams in a perfect state of preservation; and out of the
upper floors, which were pre-James K. Polk, a quantity of interior trim,
along with door frames and window sashes.
Incidentally we dispossessed a large colony of rats and a whole synod
of bats, a parish of yellow wasps and a small but active congregation
of dissenting cats--half-wild, glary-eyed, roach-backed, mangy cats that
resided under the broken flooring. In all there were fourteen of
these cats--swift and rangy performers, all of them. One and all, they
objected to being driven from home. They hung about the razed wreckage,
and by night they convened in due form upon a bare knoll hard by, and
held indignation meetings.
Parliamentary disputes arose frequently, with the result that the
proceedings might be heard for a considerable distance. I took steps
to break up these deliberations, and after several of the principal
debaters had met a sudden end--I am a very good wing shot on cats--the
survivors saw their way clear to departing entirely from the vicinity.
Within a week thereafter the song birds, which until then had been
strangely scarce upon the premises, heard the news, and began coming
in swarms. We put up nesting boxes and feeding shelves, and long before
June arrived we had hundreds of feathered boarders and a good many pairs
of feathered tenants.
One morning in the early part of the month of June I counted within
sight at one time fourteen varieties of birds, including such
brilliantly colored specimens as a scarlet tanager and his mate;
a Baltimore oriole; a bluebird; an indigo bunting; a chat; and a
flicker--called, where I came from, a yellow hammer. Robins were probing
for worms in the rank grass; two brown thrashers and a black-billed
cuckoo were investigating the residential possibilities of a cedar tree
not far away; and from the woods beyond came the sound of a cock grouse
drumming his amorous fanfare on a log.
Think of what that meant to a man who, for the better part of twelve
years, had been hived up in a flat, with English sparrows for company,
when he craved a bit of wild life!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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