ving farmer,"--up by daylight, having all hands
up and out of doors quite as early as himself, and he and they stuck to
it as long as they could see to work. With him and them it was all work
and no play. He had no recreations; he took no newspaper, had no reading
in the house except the children's school-books, the Bible, and an
almanac,--which he bought once a year, not because he wanted it, but
because his wife would have it.

What was very singular in Mr. Spangler's mode of managing things, when a
wet day came on, too rainy for out-of-door work, he seemed to have no
indoor employments provided, either for himself or hands to do, having
apparently no sort of forethought. On such occasions he let everything
slide,--that is, take care of itself,--and went, in spite of the rain,
to a tavern near by on the railroad, where he sat all day among a crowd
of neighboring idlers who collected there at such times; for although it
might be wet enough to stop all work in the fields, it was never too wet
to keep them away from the tavern. There these fellows sat, drinking
juleps, smoking pipes, or cigars that smelt even worse, and retailing
among each other the news of their several neighborhoods.

What Spangler thus picked up at the tavern was about all the news he
ever heard. As to talking of farming, of their crops, or what was the
best thing to raise, or how best to carry on this or that branch of
their business,--such matters were rarely spoken of. They came there to
shake off the farm. Politics was a standing topic,--who was likely to be
nominated on their ticket,--whether he would be elected,--and whether it
was true that so-and-so was going to be sold out by the sheriff. It was
much to Spangler's credit, that, if at this rainy-day rendezvous he
learned nothing useful, he contracted no other bad habit than that of
lounging away a day when he should have been at home attending to his
business. It was much after the same fashion that he spent his long
winter's evenings,--dozing in the chimney-corner,--for the tavern was
too far away, or he would have spent them there.

Now it somehow happens that there are quite as many rainy days in the
country as in the city. But those who live in the latter never think of
quitting work because it snows deep or rains hard. The merchant never
closes his counting-house or store, nor does the mechanic cease to labor
from such a cause; they have still something on hand, whether it rain or
shin