“Very well,” said I. And then we talked over the pleasures and
advantage that would result from a residence in the country, at such
a convenient distance from the city.
On the next day we went to look at the place, and found much, both
in the house and grounds, to attract us. There was a fine shaded
lawn, and garden with a stock of small and large fruit.
“What a delightful place for the children,” I exclaimed.
“And at such a convenient distance from the city,” said my husband.
“I can go in and out to business, and scarcely miss the time. But do
you think you would like the country?”
“O, yes. I’ve always loved the country.”
“We can move back into the city when the summer closes,” said Mr.
Smith.
“Why not remain here permanently? It will be too expensive to keep
both a city and country house,” I returned.
“It will be too dreary through the winter.”
“I don’t think so. I always feel cheerful in the country. And, then,
you know, the house is at such a convenient distance, and the stages
pass the door at every half hour. You can get to business as easily
as if we resided in the city.”
I was in the mood for a change, and so it happened was Mr. Smith.
The more we thought and talked about the matters, the more inclined
were we to break up in the city, and go permanently to the country.
And, finally, we resolved to try the experiment.
So the pleasant country house was taken, and the town house given
up, and, in due time, we took our flight to where nature had just
carpeted the earth in freshest green, and caused the buds to expand,
and the trees of the forest to clothe themselves in verdure.
How pleasant was every thing. A gardener had been employed to put
the garden and lawn in order, and soon we were delighted to see the
first shoots from seeds that had been planted, making their way
through the ground. To me, all was delightful. I felt almost as
light-hearted as a child, and never tired of expressing my pleasure
at the change.
“Come and see us,” said I, to one city friend and another, on
meeting them. “We’re in a most delightful place, and at such a
convenient distance from the city. Just get into the Frankford
omnibus, which starts from Hall’s, in Second street above Market,
every half hour, and you will come to our very door. And I shall be
so delighted to have a visit from you.”
In moving from the city, I took with me two good domestics, who had
lived in my family for over a year. Each had expressed herself as
delighted at the prospect of getting into the country, and I was
delighted to think they were so well satisfied, for I had feared
lest they would be disinclined to accompany us.
About a month after our removal, one of them, who had looked
dissatisfied about something, came to me and said:
“I want to go back to the city, Mrs. Smith; I don’t like living in
the country.”
