It is not characteristic of the normal New England mind to dwell upon that which is somber. That trend of mind which contemplates with satisfaction the gloomy and funereal, never fails to create amusement among normal Yankees.
The Man Who Took Comfort at Funerals
There is an old time story of the eccentric old bachelor who lived with his married brother, a bustling person of numerous activities, noted for a propensity to begin many enterprises but seldom finish them. Poor “Hamp,” the bachelor, was constantly being speeded up at the endless jobs. One day he announced his intention to take an afternoon vacation and attend a funeral. His taskmaster objected.
“Why do you want to go to that funeral? You went to one only last week and you never were acquainted with either of the families.”
“Hamp” hesitated a moment. A half day’s release seemed wonderfully inviting.
“Well, to tell the truth,” said he, “about all the comfort I take is in going to funerals.”
The grim visaged old farmer who sits with bent shoulders guiding his slow moving pair of farm horses along the dusty road, reflects the stern realities of making ends meet—and perhaps a little bit more—as the tiller of a rocky New England farm. But the smartly dressed tourist may have far less of that mental flexibility which enables one to shift the processes of thought from that which is burdensome to that which renews the cheerfulness of youth. As an example of this capacity there is the incident of the field of oats.
The Story of the Field of Oats
A farmer was standing by the roadside looking disconsolately at his oat field which he somehow seemed to feel was a personal reproach. A cold wet season had had a most discouraging influence and there was promise of but a very small crop.