THE HUSKING PARTY.

’Twas on a bright October day, That young and old, with faces gay, From city homes and country farms, Went forth to taste the rustic charms Of an old fashioned husking. They came from near and far to see What old time harvesting might be. To “Pleasant Hill” they wend their way, Where, in the autumn sunshine, lay The golden corn, for husking. With hearts brim full of mirth and glee They fall to work, right cheerily; And as they work, some slyly say, “I wonder who will find to-day The red ear, while we’re husking?” And as the merry laugh goes round, The hills are echoing to the sound. While stories of the by-gone days, Of apple bees, and harvest plays, Make pleasant work of husking. The signal comes—they pause at last, And hie them to the noon’s repast. And now comes speech and pleasant toast; While many a fair one makes her boast Of doing most at husking. The hour for dinner being o’er, They hasten to their task once more, With happy laugh and merry jest, While busy fingers do their best To finish up the husking. At length each golden ear of corn, Is of its outer covering shorn. Thus might life’s duties all be done, Would we but take them one by one Like ears of corn, at husking. And now the merry “Grangers” sing In joyous strains of harvesting. While sparkling eye, and ruddy cheek And pleasant smile, all plainly speak Of the delights of husking. The supper o’er, the husking done, They dance and sing till set of sun. Then with farewells they speed away, With happy thoughts of this glad day, This merry day of husking.