From the window of the room in which we were sitting, we looked over the whole of Mr. B—'s farm; the wheat-field, corn-field, orchard, potato-patch, and
buckwheat-field. The farmer himself, with his wagon and horses, a boy and a man, were busy in a hay-field, just below the house; several cows were
feeding in the meadow, and about fifty sheep were nibbling on the hill-side. A piece of woodland was pointed out on the height above, which supplied the
house with fuel. We saw no evergreens there; the trees were chiefly maple, birch, oak, and chestnut; with us, about the lake, every wood contains hemlock
and pine.

Finding we were interested in rural matters, our good friend offered to show us whatever we wished to see, answering all our many questions with the
sweet, old smile peculiar to herself. She took us to the little garden; it contained potatoes, cabbages, onions, cucumbers, and beans; and a row of
currant-bushes was the only fruit; a patch of catnip, and another of mint, grew in one corner. Our farmers, as a general rule, are proverbially indifferent
about their gardens. There was no fruit on the place besides the apple-trees of the orchard; one is surprised that cherries, and pears, and plums, all suited to
our hilly climate in this county, should not receive more attention; they yield a desirable return for the cost and labor required to plant and look after them.

Passing the barn, we looked in there also; a load of sweet hay had just been thrown into the loft, and another was coming up the road at the moment. Mr.
B— worked his farm with a pair of horses only, keeping no oxen. Half a dozen hens and some geese were the only poultry in the yard; the eggs and
feathers were carried, in the fall, to the store at B— Green, or sometimes as far as our own village.

They kept four cows; formerly they had a much larger dairy; but our hostess had counted her threescore and ten, and being the only woman in the house
the dairy-work of four cows, she said, was as much as she could well attend to. One would think so; for she also did all the cooking, baking, washing,
ironing, and cleaning for the family, consisting of three persons; besides a share of the sewing, knitting, and spinning. We went into her little buttery; here
the bright tin pans were standing full of rich milk; everything was thoroughly scoured, beautifully fresh, and neat. A stone jar of fine yellow butter, whose
flavor we knew of old, stood on one side, and several cheeses were in press. The wood-work was all painted red.

While our kind hostess, on hospitable thought intent, was preparing something nice for tea, we were invited to look about the little sitting-room, and see
"farm ways" in that shape. It was both parlor and guest-chamber at the same time. In one corner stood a maple bedstead, with a large, plump feather bed on
it, and two tiny pillows in well-bleached cases at the head. The walls of the room were whitewashed, the wood-work was unpainted, but so thoroughly
scoured, that it had acquired a sort of polish and oak color. Before the window hung colored paper blinds. Between the windows stood a table, and over it
hung a small looking-glass, and a green and yellow drawing in water colors, the gift of a friend. On one side stood a cherry bureau; upon this lay the Holy
Bible, and that its sacred pages had been well studied, our friend's daily life could testify. Near the Bible lay a volume of religious character from the
Methodist press, and the Life of General Marion. The mantel-piece was ornamented with peacocks' feathers, and brass candlesticks bright as gold; in the
fireplace were fresh sprigs of asparagus. An open cupboard stood on one side, containing the cups and saucers, in neat array, a pretty salt-cellar, with
several pieces of cracked and broken crockery, of a superior quality, preserved for ornament more than use.

As our dear hostess was coming and going, dividing her time between her biscuits and her guests, very impartially, we asked permission to follow her, and
sit by her while she was at work, admiring the kitchen quite as much as we did the rest of her neat dwelling. The largest room in the house, and the one
most used, it was just as neat as every other corner under the roof. The chimney was very large, according to the approved old custom, and it was garnished
all about with flat-irons, brooms, brushes, holders, and cooking utensils, each in its proper place. In winter, they used a stove for cooking, and in the very
coldest weather, they keep two fires burning, one in the chimney, another in the stove. The walls were whitewashed. There was a great deal of wood-work
about the room­wainscoting, dressers, and even the ceiling being of wood­and all was painted dark red. The ceiling of a farm-kitchen, especially if it be
unplastered, as this was, is often a pretty rustic sight, a sort of store-place, all kinds of things hanging there on hooks or nails driven into the beams;
bundles of dried herbs, strings of red peppers and of dried apples hanging in festoons, tools of various kinds, bags of different sorts and sizes, golden ears
of seed-corn ripening, vials of physic and nostrums for man and beast, bits of cord and twine, skeins of yarn and brown thread just spun, and lastly, a file
of newspapers. The low red ceiling of Farmer B—'s kitchen was not quite so well garnished in July as we have seen it at other times, still, it was by no
means bare, the festoons of apples, red peppers, and Indian corn being the only objects wanting. By the window hung an ink bottle and a well-fingered
almanac, witty and wise, as usual. A year or two since, an edition of the almanac was printed without the usual prognostics regarding the winds and
sunshine, but it proved a complete failure; an almanac that told nothing about next year's weather nobody cared to buy, and it was found expedient to
restore these important predictions concerning the future snow, hail and sunshine of the county. Public opinion demanded it.

A great spinning-wheel, with a basket of carded wool, stood in a corner, where it had been set aside when we arrived. There was a good deal of spinning
done in the family; all the yarn for stockings, for flannels, for the cloth worn by the men, for the colored woolen dresses of the women, and all the thread
for their coarse toweling, was spun in the house by our hostess, or her grand-daughter, or some neighbor hired for the purpose. Formerly, there had been
six step-daughters in the family, and then, not only all the spinning, but the weaving and dyeing also, were done at home. They must have been notable
women, those six step-daughters; we heard some great accounts of day's spinning and weaving done by them. The presses and cupboards of the house
were still full to overflowing with blankets, white and colored flannels, colored twill coverlets for bedding, besides sheets, tablecloths, and patched
bed-quilts, all their own work. In fact, almost all the clothing of the family, for both men and women, and everything in the shape of bedding and toweling
used by the household, was home-made. Very few dry-goods were purchased by them; hats and shoes, some light materials for caps and collars, a little
ribbon, and a printed calico now and then, seemed to be all they bought. Nor was this considered at all remarkable; such is the common way of living in
many farmers' families. It has been calculated that a young woman who knows how to spin and weave can dress herself with ease and comfort, as regards
everything necessary, for twelve dollars a year, including the cost of the raw materials; the actual allowance for clothing made by the authorities of this
county, to farmers' daughters, while the property remained undivided, has been fifteen dollars, and the estimate is said to have included everything
necessary for comfort, both winter and summer clothing. The wives and daughters of our farmers are very often notable, frugal women­perhaps one may
say that they are usually so until they go from home. With the young girls about our villages, the case is very different; these are often wildly extravagant in
their dress, and just as restless in following the fashions as the richest fine lady in the land. They often spend all they earn in finery.

Very pretty woolen shawls were shown us, made by our friend's step-daughters, after Scotch patterns; several families of Scotch emigrants had settled in
the neighborhood some thirty years since, and had furnished their friends with the patterns of different plaids; whether these were Highland or Lowland,
we could not say. Some of their twilled flannels were also remarkably good in quality and color, but these are apt to shrink in washing. They are quite
skilful dyers in scarlet, orange, green, blue, and lilac. With the maple leaves, they dye a very neat gray for stockings, but most of their coloring materials
were purchased in the villages, dyestuffs being an important part of the stock in trade of all our country druggists. Most of the spinning and weaving was
in cotton or wool; the clothing and bedding was wholly of cotton or woolen materials. A certain amount of tow was used for toweling, bagging, smock
frocks and pantaloons, for summer working clothes for the men. From time to time, a little flax was raised, especially to make linen, chiefly for a few finer
towels and tablecloths, the luxuries of the household.

The food of the family, as well as their clothing, was almost wholly the produce of their own farm; they dealt but little with either grocer or butcher. In the
spring, a calf was killed; in the fall, a sheep and a couple of hogs; once in a while, at other seasons, they got a piece of fresh meat from some neighbor who
had killed a beef or a mutton. They rarely ate their poultry; the hens were kept chiefly for eggs, and their geese for feathers. The common piece of meat,
day after day, was corned pork from their pork-barrel; they usually kept, also, some corned beef in brine, either from their own herd, or a piece procured by
some bargain with a neighbor. The bread was made from their own wheat, and so were the hoe-cakes and griddle-cakes from the Indian meal and
buckwheat of their growth. Butter and cheese from their dairy were on table at every meal, three times a day. Pies were eaten very frequently, either of
apples, pumpkins, dried fruits, or coarse minced-meat; occasionally they had pie without any meat for their dinner; puddings were rare; Yankee farmers
generally eating much more pastry than pudding. Mush and milk was a common dish. They ate but few eggs, reserving them for sale. Their vegetables
were almost wholly potatoes, cabbage, and onions, with fresh corn and beans, when in season, and baked beans with pork in winter. Pickles were put on
table at every meal. Their sugar and molasses were made from maple, only keeping a little white sugar for company or sickness. They drank cider from
their own orchard. The chief luxuries of the household were tea and coffee, both procured from the "stores," although it may be doubted if the tea ever saw
China; if like much of that drunk about the country, it was probably of farm growth also.

While we were talking over these matters, and others of a more personal nature, with our gentle old hostess, several visitors arrived;­probably, on this
occasion, they came less to see the mistress of the house than her carriage-load of strange company. Be that as it may, we had the pleasure of making
several new acquaintances, and of admiring some very handsome strings of gold beads about their necks; a piece of finery we had not seen in a long while.
Another fashion was less pleasing. We observed that a number of the women in that neighborhood had their hair cropped short like men, a custom which
seems all but unnatural. Despite her seventy years and the rheumatism, our hostess had her dark hair smoothly combed and neatly rolled up under a nice
muslin cap, made after the Methodist pattern. She was not one to do anything unwomanly, though all B— Green set the fashion.

As we had a long drive before us, we were obliged to say good-by early in the afternoon, taking leave of our venerable friend with those feelings of
unfeigned regard and respect which the good and upright alone excite.

from "Summer" in Rural Hours