It arrived with my marriage. Then children to bless it. But it
was not made complete and final--a veritable Kentucky home--until the
all-round, all-night work which had kept my nose to the grindstone had been
shifted to younger shoulders I was able to buy a few acres of arable land
far out in the county--the County of Jefferson!--and some ancient brick
walls, which the feminine genius to which I owe so much could convert to
itself and tear apart and make over again. Here "the sun shines bright" as
in the song, and--
_The corn tops ripe and the meadows in the bloom
The birds make music all the day._
They waken with the dawn--a feathered orchestra--incessant, fearless--for
each of its pieces--from the sweet trombone of the dove to the shrill
clarionet of the jay--knows that it is safe. There are no guns about. We
have with us, and have had for five and twenty years, a family of colored
people who know our ways and meet them intelligently and faithfully.
When we go away--as we do each winter and sometimes during the other
seasons--and come again--dinner is on the table, and everybody--even to
Tigue and Bijou, the dogs--is glad to see us. Could mortal ask for more?
And so let me close with the wish of my father's old song come true--the
words sufficiently descriptive of the reality:
_In the downhill of life when I find I'm declining,
May my fate no less fortunate be
Than a snug elbow chair can afford for reclining
And a cot that o'erlooks the wide sea--
A cow for my dairy, a dog for my game.
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