Part 18 (2/2)

what kind of a life we had there; and those cakes of dried fruits, and the figs, and the myrtles, and the sweet new wine, and the violet bed next to the well, and the olives we so long for!”

[*]I.e. the end of the Peloponnesian War, which compelled the farming population to remove inside the walls.

There is another reason why the Athenians rejoice in the country.

The dusty streets are at best a poor playground for the children, the inner court of the house is only a respectable prison for the wife. In the country the lads can enjoy themselves; the wife and the daughters can roam about freely with delightful absence of convention. There will be no happier day in the year than when the master says, ”Let us set out for the farm.”

173. Some Features of the Attic Country.--Postponing our examination of Athenian farmsteads and farming methods until we reach some friendly estate, various things strike us as we go along the road.

One is the skilful system of irrigation,--the numerous watercourses drawn especially from the Cephisus, whereby the agriculturists make use of every possible sc.r.a.p of moisture for the fields, groves, and vineyards. Another is the occasional olive tree we see standing, gnarled and venerable, but carefully fenced about; or even (not infrequently) we see fences only with but a dead and utterly worthless stump within. Do not speak lightly of these ”stumps,”

however. They are none the less ”moriai”--sacred olive trees of Athena, and carefully tended by public wardens.[*] Contractors are allowed to take the fruit of the olive trees under carefully regulated conditions; but no one is allowed to remove the stumps, much less hew down a living tree. An offender is tried for ”impiety” before the high court of the Areopagus, and his fate is pretty surely death, for the country people, at least, regard their sacred trees with a fanatical devotion which it would take long to explain to a stranger.

[*]Athenians loved to dwell on the ”divine gift” of the olive.

Thus Euripides sang (”Troades,” 799):--

In Salamis, filled with the foaming Of billows and murmur of bees, Old Telamon stayed from his roaming Long ago, on a throne of the seas, Looking out on the hills olive laden, Enchanted, where first from the earth The gray-gleaming fruit of the Maiden Athena had birth.

--Murray, translator.

The hero Telamon was reputed an uncle of Achilles and one of the early kings of Salami.

Also upon the way one is pretty sure to meet a wandering beggar--a shrewd-eyed, bewhiskered fellow. He carries, not a barrel organ and monkey, but a blinking tame crow perched on his shoulder, and at every farmstead he halts to whine his nasal ditty and ask his dole.

Good people, a handful of barley bestow On the child of Apollo, the sleek sable crow; Or a trifle of whet, O kind friends, give;-- Or a wee loaf of bread that the crow may live.

It is counted good luck by the housewife to have a chance to feed a ”holy crow,” and the owner's pickings are goodly. By the time we have left the beggar behind us we are at the farm whither our excursion has been tending.

174. An Attic Farmstead.--We are to inspect the landed estate of Hybrias, the son of Xanthippus. It lies north of Athens on the slopes of Anchesmus, one of the lesser hills which roll away toward the marble-crowned summits of Pentelicus. Part of the farm lands lie on the level ground watered by the irrigation ditches; part upon the hillsides, and here the slopes have been terraced in a most skilful fas.h.i.+on in order to make the most of every possible inch of ground, and also to prevent any of the precious soil from being washed down by the torrents of February and March. The owner is a wealthy man, and has an extensive establishment; the farm buildings--once whitewashed, but now for the most part somewhat dirty--wander away over a large area. There are wide courts, deep in manure, surrounded by barns; there are sties, haymows, carefully closed granaries, an olive press, a grain mill, all kinds of stables and folds, likewise a huge irregularly shaped house wherein are lodged the numerous slaves and the hired help. The general design of this house is the same as of a city house--the rooms opening upon an inner court, but naturally its dimensions are ampler, with the ampler land s.p.a.ce.

Just now the courtyard is a noisy and animated sight. The master has this moment ridden in, upon one of his periodic visits from Athens; the farm overseer has run out to meet him and report, and half a dozen long, lean hunting dogs--Darter, Roarer, Tracker, Active, and more[*]--are dancing and yelping, in the hope that their owner will order a hare hunt. The overseer is pouring forth his usual burden of woe about the inefficient help and the lack of rain, and Hybrias is complaining of the small spring crop--”Zeus send us something better this summer!” While these worthies are adjusting their troubles we may look around the farm.

[*]For an exhaustive list of names for Greek dogs, see Xenophon's curious ”Essay on Hunting,” ch. VII, -- 5.

175. Plowing, Reaping, and Thres.h.i.+ng.--Thrice a year the Athenian farmer plows, unless he wisely determines to let his field lie fallow for the nonce; and the summer plowing on hybrias's estate is now in progress. Up and down a wide field the ox team is going.[*]

The plow is an extremely primitive affair--mainly of wood, although over the sharpened point which forms the plowshare a plate of iron has been fitted. Such a plow requires very skilful handling to cut a good furrow, and the driver of the team has no sinecure.

[*]Mules were sometimes used for drawing the plow, but horses, it would seem, never.

In a field near by, the hinds are reaping a crop of wheat which was late in ripening.[*] The workers are bending with semicircular sickles over their hot task; yet they form a merry, noisy crowd, full of homely ”harvest songs,” nominally in honor of Demeter, the Earth Mother, but ranging upon every conceivable rustic topic.

Some laborers are cutting the grain, others, walking behind, are binding into sheaves and piling into clumsy ox wains. Here and there a sheaf is standing, and we are told that this is left ”for luck,” as an offering to the rural Field Spirit; for your farm hand is full of superst.i.tions. Also amid the workers a youth is pa.s.sing with a goodly jar of cheap wine, to which the harvesters make free to run from time to time for refreshment.

<script>