Front Matter

The Sandman: His Farm Stories

Introduction

W HEN little John and little Charles lived on a farm, everything they did took lots of time and lots of work. But nobody seemed to mind. They had fun along with their work.

When Aunt Deborah wanted corn meal to make Johnny-cake, Uncle John first had to haul the corn to the mill in an oxcart. Then he hauled it slowly home again. But even this couldn't be done until after he had raised the corn in the field and then harvested it.

Aunt Deborah's kitchen was not like any that we have today. Instead of a stove she and Aunt Phyllis cooked over a fireplace. And they didn't dare to let the fire go out, for there were no matches in those days! If the fire did go out, how do you suppose they started it again?

When little John and little Charles wanted a day of fun, they went with Uncle Solomon in his boat on the big pond. He rowed them to a place where the water was not very deep. After the boys had taken off their clothes, Uncle Solomon lifted each boy and threw him into the water.

It was fun to go into the maple-sugar woods in the early spring, when the maple sap began to run. Uncle John always made enough syrup and sugar in the spring to last all year, for there wasn't a store near by where he could buy more.

Little John thought that the most fun of all was to ride into town with his father to take the farm produce to market. This day came at the end of summer, when all the ripe fruits and vegetables and other foods had been gathered. The trip to town and back took all day.

You can see that little John and little Charles had a very different life from yours. That is why it is fun to read about it.

Preface

W HATEVER may be thought of these stories by older people, they have served, with some others, to induce a certain little boy to go to sleep, and for nearly three years my one listener has heard them repeated many times, and his interest has never flagged. As the farm stories slowly grew in number, they entirely displaced the other stories, and that farm has become as real in the mind of my audience as it was in fact when little John was driving the cows, or planting the corn, seventy-five years ago.

The detail, which may seem excessive to an older critic, was in every case, until I had learned to put it in at the start, the result of a searching cross-examination. If the bars were not put up again, the cows might get out; and if the oxen did not pass, on their return, all the familiar objects, how did they get back to the barn? It is the young critics that I hope to please, those whose years count no more than six. If they like these farm stories half as well as my own young critic likes them, I shall be satisfied.