The Old Friend and the Load of Hay
For many years a family had subsisted upon a small farm which was a source of profit chiefly to a money lender some fifteen miles distant and made secure by means of a very energetic mortgage. It mattered not what the family necessities might be, provision must always be made on the first day of April for the payment of the interest.
One April first, when “Uncle Aaron” had traveled the fifteen miles laboriously through the mud to make his annual payment, he seemed to the holder of the mortgage to be somewhat depressed. As he was normally a very cheerful man, the money lender asked him how things were going. He was informed that “Uncle Aaron” was exceedingly short of hay with which to feed his stock until the grass in his pasture had made sufficient start to justify his turning his cattle out to seek their own living.
“Well! well! Uncle Aaron,” was the reply. “I have a whole barn full of hay at my farm up the Branch and you can take your horse and wagon, go up there and get a load for your cattle and it won’t cost you a cent.”
Uncle Aaron made his way homeward with a light heart. To be sure the roads were in a fearful state, but his old mare was faithful and reliable and he felt sure she could make the journey and take home a pretty fair load of hay for his lean and always expectant cows.
A couple of days later with his horse and hay wagon he made the journey, securing as much hay as he thought his horse could get home with over the muddy roads. Apparently Uncle Aaron overestimated the old mare’s capacity, as when he was yet six or eight miles from home she seemed to have lost all courage. He could hardly get her along the road. Finally he remembered that at a farm a short distance ahead, there lived an acquaintance of his who would probably be glad to put him up for the night. He succeeded in persuading his reluctant horse to cover the remaining distance and turning into the farm road observed his old friend looking at him curiously, but who quickly approached and welcomed him gladly.
“Just drive into the barnyard,” said he, “and put your horse in a stall, give her some supper and then we will go in the house. My wife will be glad to make your acquaintance.”
This was indeed a haven of rest for Uncle Aaron. With the old mare well fed and furnished with a comfortable bed of straw to sleep on, as his friend had plenty of straw, although he admitted being very short of hay, Uncle Aaron accepted gladly the hospitality of his friend’s wife who served an excellent supper. Such cordiality was really delightful after so weary a day.
The evening passed in reminiscences of boyhood days, and the occasion was enlivened by several pitchers of cider which in turn recalled jolly old songs in which “Uncle Aaron” and his host joined with zest. It was a late hour before the old friends retired to rest.
Uncle Aaron slept soundly and late. He was awakened to hear with horror the clock striking nine. Breakfast must have been over at least two hours, if not more. Leaping from the bed, Uncle Aaron hastily proceeded to dress, but his attention was called to a chamber window by the bellowing of cattle. Looking out he saw his host halfway across the field engaged in some farming task, while a large herd of cattle were in the barnyard eagerly consuming what seemed to be about the last of his load of hay. Hastening from the house and chasing the cattle back into the meadow, where they had evidently been eagerly searching for an occasional bite of dead grass, Uncle Aaron accepted a late breakfast with numerous apologies to his hostess, harnessed his horse and dejectedly turned his way homeward. The load which the old mare had occasion to haul over the still sticky roads, did not seem to be much of an embarrassment the rest of the way home.
The sad feature of this melancholy tale, to Uncle Aaron, was the ever present doubt as to the real good intentions of his old friend in turning his hungry cows into the meadow that morning and leaving the gateway insecurely fastened.
The ambitious proprietor of a small farm is naturally somewhat perturbed when winter finds him with insufficient forage for his stock. It means that he must go to the expense of buying supplies from his more fortunate neighbors, or that he must sell some of his cattle at a sacrifice.