Irvin Cobb - The Abandoned Farmers. His Humorous Account of a Retreat from the City to the Farm стр 5.

The trip up through the extreme lower end of the state of New York was delightful, being marred by only one or two small mishaps. There was the trifling incident of a puncture, which delayed us slightly; but fortunately the accident occurred at a point where there was a wonderful view of the Croton Lakes, and while Winsell was taking off the old tire and adjusting a new one we sat very comfortably in the car, enjoying Natures panorama.

It was a little later on when we hit a dog. It seemed to me that this dog merely sailed, yowling, up into the air in a sort of long curve, but Winsell insisted that the dog described a parabola. I am very glad that in accidents of this character it is always the victims that describe the parabola. I know I should be at a complete loss to describe one myself. Unless it is something like the boomerang of the Australian aborigines I do not even know what a parabola is. Nor did I dream until then that Winsell understood the dog language. However, those are but technical details.

After we crossed the state line we got lost several times; this was because the country seemed to have a number of roads the road map omitted, and the road map had many roads the country had left out. Eventually, though, we came to a district of gently rolling hills, dotted at intervals with those neat white-painted villages in which New England excels; and between the villages at frequent intervals were farmhouses. Abandoned ones, however, were rarer than we had been led to expect. Not only were these farms visibly populated by persons who appeared to be permanently attached to their respective localities, but at many of them things were offered for sale such as home-made pastry, souvenirs, fresh poultry, antique furniture, brass door-knockers, milk and eggs, hand-painted crockery, table board, garden truck, molasses taffy, laundry soap and livestock.

At length, though, when our necks were quite sore from craning this way and that on the watch for an abandoned farm that would suit us, we came to a very attractive-looking place facing a lawn and flanked by an orchard. There was a sign fastened to an elm tree alongside the fence. The sign read: For Information Concerning This Property Inquire Within.

To Winsell I said:

Stop here this is without doubt the place we have been looking for!

Filled my wife and I with little thrills of anticipation, we all got out. I opened the gate and entered the yard, followed by Winsell, my wife and his wife. I was about halfway up the walk when a large dog sprang into view, at the same time showing his teeth in rather an intimidating way. To prevent an encounter with an animal that might be hostile, I stepped nimbly behind the nearest tree. As I came round on the other side of the tree there, to my surprise, was this dog face to face with me. Still desiring to avoid a collision with him, I stepped back the other way. Again I met the dog, which was now growling. The situation was rapidly becoming embarrassing when a gentleman came out upon the porch and called sharply to the dog. The dog, with apparent reluctance, retired under the house and the gentleman invited us inside and asked us to be seated. Glancing about his living room I noted that the furniture appeared to be a trifle modern for our purposes; but, as I whispered to my wife, you cannot expect to have everything to suit you at first. With the sweet you must ever take the bitter that I believe is true, though not an original saying.

In opening the conversation with the strange gentleman I went in a businesslike way direct to the point.

You are the owner of these premises? I asked. He bowed. I take it, I then said, that you are about to abandon this farm?

I beg your pardon? he said, as though confused.

I presume, I explained, that this is practically an abandoned farm.

Not exactly, he said. Im here.

Yes, yes; quite so, I said, speaking perhaps a trifle impatiently. But you are thinking of going away from it, arent you?

Yes, he admitted; I am.

Now, I said, we are getting round to the real situation. What are you asking for this place?

Eighteen hundred, he stated. There are ninety acres of land that go with the house and the house itself is in very good order.

I considered for a moment. None of the abandoned farms I had ever read about sold for so much as eighteen hundred dollars. Still, I reflected, there might have been a recent bull movement; there had certainly been much publicity upon the subject. Before committing myself, I glanced at my wife. Her expression betokened acquiescence.

That figure, I said diplomatically, was somewhat in excess of what I was originally prepared to pay; still, the house seems roomy and, as you were saying, there are ninety acres. The furniture and equipment go with the place, I presume?

Naturally, he answered. That is the customary arrangement.

And would you be prepared to give possession immediately?

Immediately, he responded.

I began to feel enthusiasm. By the look on my wifes face I could tell that she was enthused, too.

If we come to terms, I said, and everything proves satisfactory, I suppose you could arrange to have the deed made out at once?

The deed? he said blankly. You mean the lease?

The lease? I said blankly. You mean the deed?

The deed? he said blankly. You mean the lease?

The lease, indeed, said my wife. You mean

I broke in here. Apparently we were all getting the habit.

Let us be perfectly frank in this matter, I said. Let us dispense with these evasive and dilatory tactics. You want eighteen hundred dollars for this place, furnished?

Exactly, he responded. Eighteen hundred dollars for it from June to October. Then, noting the expressions of our faces, he continued hurriedly: A remarkably small figure considering what summer rentals are in this section. Besides, this house is new. It costs a lot to reproduce these old Colonial designs!

I saw at once that we were but wasting our time in this persons company. He had not the faintest conception of what we wanted. We came away. Besides, as I remarked to the others after we were back in the car and on our way again, this house-farm would never have suited us; the view from it was nothing extra. I told Winsell to go deeper into the country until we really struck the abandoned farm belt.

So we went farther and farther. After a while it was late afternoon and we seemed to be lost again. My wife and Winsells wife were tired; so we dropped them at the next teahouse we passed. I believe it was the eighteenth teahouse for the day. Winsell and I then continued on the quest alone. Women know so little about business anyway that it is better, I think, whenever possible, to conduct important matters without their presence. It takes a masculine intellect to wrestle with these intricate problems; and for some reason or other this problem was becoming more and more complicated and intricate all the time.

On a long, deserted stretch of road, as the shadows were lengthening, we overtook a native of a rural aspect plodding along alone. Just as we passed him I was taken with an idea and I told Winsell to stop. I was tired of trafficking with stupid villagers and avaricious land-grabbers. I would deal with the peasantry direct. I would sound the yeoman heart which is honest and true and ever beats in accord with the best dictates of human nature.

My friend, I said to him, I am seeking an abandoned farm. Do you know of many such in this vicinity?

How? he asked.

I never got so tired of repeating a question in my life; nevertheless, for this yokels limited understanding, I repeated it again.