My Dear Mr. Editor : I guess you know
that never at any time in tbe life of living
farmers bave the Saturday nights been so
welcome as the past five. Down here we
relished tbe past five Saturday nights as
much as Old Andy Jackson relished his
corn-cob pipe. Ton see, bay making, corn
working, wheat catting and oats harvest
have kept us farmers so busy that we bave
not had time to- more than take a little
sleep-, and work ail day. It was nearly as
sharp work as wbea Old Hickory waa cut on
a campaign alter the red coats. Sometimes
be did not get his boots off from one Satur
day night till another. It was haid this
harvest on the youngsters that wanted to
spark the girls, and many a tired one, after
working hard all week, went off on a Satur
day night sparking excursion, which lasted
till nearly Sunday morning, and somo cf
them kept it up over Sunday, and when
Monday came it was for a troth a blue Mon
day. Well, we are about through with the har
vest, and I thought tint on this mellow Sat
urday evening I'd go to the Stars and see the
mellow friends. We had a good time. We
bave a brass band down here that can toot
more music than a little, and play Th
Girl that I Lett Behind Me," sweeter than
anything you ever heard. By the Eternal,
as Old Andy used to say, it is astouishiog
bow they can Mow it. We bad fresh new
talk about tbe ladies. We talked about the
census and the causes that lessened the pop
ulation some three hundred in the lower
end in the past ten year ;' but I will write to
you particularly, some time, about tbe talk
about the ladies and the census. Tbe most
talk of all was about politics. It was high,
yoa can bet your best. My old Jacksonian
friends were stirred up, and the way they
talked a Hancock boom was a caution. I
guess it was the music that moved them so.
