roubles."

Friday evening, September 6, I returned from the west. My first
greeting was,--

"How's the farm, Polly?"

"It's there, or was yesterday; I think you'll find things running
smoothly."

"Have they sowed the alfalfa and cut the oats?"

"Yes."

"Finished the farm-house?"

"No, not quite, but the painters are there, and Nelson has commenced
work on two other buildings."

"What time can I breakfast? I must catch the 8.10 train, and spend a
long day where things are doing."

Things were humming at Four Oaks when I arrived. Ten carpenters besides
Nelson and his son were pounding, sawing, and making confusion in all
sorts of ways peculiar to their kind. The ploughmen were busy. Thompson
and the other two men were shocking oats. I spent the day roaming around
the place, watching the work and building castles. I went to the alfalfa
field to see if the seed had sprouted. Disappointed in this, I wandered
down to the brook and planned some abridgment of its meanderings. It
could be straightened and kept within bounds without great expense if
the work were done in a dry season. Polly had asked for a winding brook
with a fringe of willows and dogwood, but I would not make this
concession to her esthetic taste. This farm land must be useful to the
sacrifice of everything else. A winding brook would be all right on the
home lot, if it could be found, but not on the farm. A straight ditch
for drainage was all that I would permit, and I begrudged even that. No
waste land in the cultivated fields, was my motto. I had threshed this
out with Polly and she had yielded, after stipulating that I must keep
my hands off the home forty.

Over in the woods I found two men at work splitting fence posts. They
seemed expert, and I asked them how many they could make in a day.

"From 90 to 125, according to the timber. But we must work hard to make
good wages."

"That applies to other things besides post-splitting, doesn't it?"

Closer inspection of the wood lot gratified me exceedingly. Little had
been done for it except by Nature, but she had worked with so prodigal a
hand that it showed all kinds of possibilities, both for beauty and for
utility. Before leaving the place, I had a little talk with Nelson.

"Everything is going on nicely," he said. "I have ten carpenters, and
they are a busy lot. If I can only hold them on to the job, things will
go well."

"What's the matter? Can't you hold them?"

"I hope so, but the