The Natural Result Of This Poor Nourishment
Was, That Their Cattle Continually Degenerated, And Great Numbers
Died Every Spring Of A Disease Called The "Hollow Horn," Which
Appears To Be Peculiar To This Country.
When the lands became
sterile, from this exhausting treatment, they were called "worn-out
farms;" and the owners generally
Sold them to new settlers from the
old country, and with the money they received, bought a larger
quantity of wild lands, to provide for their sons; by whom the same
improvident process was recommenced.
These early settlers were, in fact, only fit for pioneers to a more
thrifty class of settlers.
Joe H - -, or "Uncle Joe," as the country people call any
acquaintance, after a fashion borrowed, no doubt, from the Dutch
settlers of the State of New York, was, neither by his habits nor
industry, likely to become more prosperous than his neighbours of
the same thoughtless class. His father had worked hard in his time,
and Uncle Joe thought he had a good right to enjoy himself. The
nearest village was only five miles from his place, and he was never
without some excuse for going thither every two or three days. His
horse wanted shoeing, or his plough or waggon wanted "to be fixed"
by the blacksmith or carpenter. As a matter of course, he came home
"pretty high;" for he was in the constant habit of pouring a
half-tumbler of whiskey down his throat, standing bolt upright at
the bar of the tavern, after which he would drink about the same
quantity of cold water to wash it down. These habits together with
bad farming, and a lazy, slovenly helpmate, in a few years made Joe
as poor as he could desire to be; and at last he was compelled to
sell his farm to Mr. Q - -.
After we had got settled down on this farm, I had often occasion to
drive into C - -, for the purpose of buying groceries and other
necessaries, as we then thought them, at the store of Mr. Q - -. On
these occasions I always took up my quarters, for the time, at the
tavern of our worthy Yankee friend, Mr. S - -. As I drove up to the
door, I generally found S - - walking about briskly on the boarded
platform, or "stoop," in front of the house, welcoming his guests
in his own peculiar free-and-easy style, looking after their horses,
and seeing that his people were attentive to their duties. I think
I see him now before me with his thin, erect, lathy figure, his snub
nose, and puckered-up face, wriggling and twisting himself about,
in his desire to please his customers.
On stopping in front of the tavern, shortly after our settlement on
the farm, Mr. S - - stepped up to me, in the most familiar manner
imaginable, holding out his hand quite condescendingly, - "Ah, Mister
Moodie, ha-a-w do you do? - and ha-a-w's the old woman?"
At first I could not conceive whom he meant by this very homely
appellation; and I very simply asked him what person he alluded to,
as I had no old woman in my establishment.
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