, so that he had to
jump and run with it, he gave a wild flourish with both arms, grimaced
at the conductor, and went off down the road whistling for all he was
worth. How I enjoyed the sight of him! He was so charged with youthful
energy, so overflowing with the joy of life, that he could scarcely
contain himself. What a fine place the world was to him! And what
comical and interesting people it contained! I was sorry when he got
off.

Two or three days later I was on my way up the town road north of my
farm when I was astonished and delighted to see Bill for the second
time. He was coming down the road pulling a wire over the crosspiece of
a tall telephone pole (the company is rebuilding and enlarging its
system through our town). He was holding the wire close drawn over his
right shoulder, his strong hands gripped and pressed upon his breast.
The veins stood out in his brown neck where the burlap shoulder pad he
wore was drawn aside by the wire. He leaned forward, stepping first on
his toe, which he dug into the earth and then, heavily letting down his
heel, he drew the other foot forward somewhat stiffly. The muscles stood
out in his powerful shoulders and thighs. His legs were double-strapped
with climbing spurs. He was a master lineman.

As I came alongside he turned a good-humoured sweaty face toward me.

"It's dang hot," said he.

"It is," said I.

There is something indescribably fascinating about the sight of a strong
workman in the full swing of his work, something--yes, beautiful! A
hard pull of a job, with a strong man doing it joyfully, what could be
finer to see? And he gave such a jaunty sense of youth and easy
strength!

I watched him for some time, curiously interested, and thought I should
like well to know him, but could not see just how to go about it.

The man astride the cross-arm who was heaving the wire forward from the
spool on the distant truck suddenly cried out:

"Ease up there, Bill, she's caught."

So Bill eased up and drew his arm across his dripping face.

"How many wires are you putting up?" I asked, fencing for some opening.

"Three," said Bill.

Before I could get in another stroke the man on the pole shouted:

"Let 'er go, Bill." And Bill let 'er go, and buckled down again to his
job.

"Gee, but it's hot," said he.

In the country there are not so many people passing our way that we
cannot be interested in all of them. That evening I could not help
thinking about