e of the rainbow, and the pot of gold. He was eager to push on
toward it, confident of the outcome. His spirit was reflected in one of
the songs which we children particularly enjoyed hearing our mother
sing, a ballad which consisted of a dialogue between a husband and wife
on this very subject of emigration. The words as well as its wailing
melody still stir me deeply, for they lay hold of my sub-conscious
memory--embodying admirably the debate which went on in our home as
well as in the homes of other farmers in the valley,--only, alas! our
mothers did not prevail.

It begins with a statement of unrest on the part of the husband who
confesses that he is about to give up his plow and his cart--

Away to Colorado a journey I'll go,
For to double my fortune as other men do,
_While here I must labor each day in the field
And the winter consumes all the summer doth yield_.

To this the wife replies:

Dear husband, I've noticed with a sorrowful heart
That you long have neglected your plow and your cart,
Your horses, sheep, cattle at random do run,
And your new Sunday jacket goes every day on.
_Oh, stay on your farm and you'll suffer no loss,
For the stone that keeps rolling will gather no moss._

But the husband insists:

Oh, wife, let us go; Oh, don't let us wait;
I long to be there, and I long to be great,
While you some fair lady and who knows but I
May be some rich governor long 'fore I die,
_Whilst here I must labor each day in the field,
And the winter consumes all the summer doth yield_.

But wife shrewdly retorts:

Dear husband, remember those lands are so dear
They will cost you the labor of many a year.
Your horses, sheep, cattle will all be to buy,
You will hardly get settled before you must die.
Oh, stay on the farm,--etc.

The husband then argues that as in that country the lands are all
cleared to the plow, and horses and cattle not very dear, they would
soon be rich. Indeed, "we will feast on fat venison one-half of the
year." Thereupon the wife brings in her final argument:

Oh, husband, remember those lands of delight
Are surrounded by Indians who murder by night.
Your house will be plundered and burnt to the ground
While your wife and your children lie mangled around.

This fetches the husband up with a round turn:

Oh, wife, you've convinced me, I'll argue no more,
I never once t