Show au OUR R OLD WELL IT is not beautiful I do not think one who always sees beauty in the most place common-place objects could find in this old well anything to attract attention yet our house farm-house would seem hardly complete without it It is dear to me because of the happy memories it awakens of the time when as s a romping romping romp romp- d ing tom boy I used to hide behind its old gray boards in games of hide-and- hide seek with our neighbors neighbor's boys And no doubt many a dusty traveler remembers it for the refreshment it has given him himon on a hot summer day 1 It t stands just opposite the ki kitchen door where it is sheltered from the midday midday midday mid mid- day heat by a row row of mighty trees which seem to act as guards over a sacred spot But an opening between the great leafy branches allows the last rays of the s setting sun to reach it and throw throw a a glow of light round the weather- weather beaten boards of the curb How well I remember the dismal groans of f that stately old curb as the bucket which had gone swinging merrily merrily merrily mer mer- rily down was drawn heavily up filled to the brim with pure cold water I remember too how the men weary and exhausted would come from the hayfield hayfield hayfield hay- hay field an and gather about the old well refreshing themselves with draughts of this liquid gem as it came fresh and cool from the solemn round pool below how each would take his turn in using the old tin cup that hung on a nail driven into one one of the boards at the side And my sister a merry rosy rosy- chee cheeked ked girl of sixteen was al always ways too busy to get a bucket of water when needed But she could always find time timeto to drop her work when the men came up and snatching a bucket even en though the one beside it was brimful run to the well to carry carryon on a flirtation with our hired boy How vexed I was wasat wasat at such undignified conduct and how many lectures I have given upon the f youthful follies of very young maidens But as I write I reluctantly admit to myself that if the old curb could speak it might tell something of rural 11 whispered over its top and in which I Irad 1 lad rad ad played a prominent part The old well figures boldly in the recollections of my child As a wee tot I used to stand leaning over its side throwing kisses to a round faced baby whose merry smile beamed back at me from Natures Nature's mirror at the bottom How I pictured her as the tiny queen of f a race of who lived in the farthest depths of the well Many days months and even years have passed since I g gazed zed into the smiling smiling smiling smil smil- ing face of the innocent water-baby water the house farm-house is slowly going to ruin and some day the old curb will fall to decay but I can never forget my childhoods childhood's r happy happy days that I spent so near our old well t u |