ece of land he could find, because we were going to
spend a good deal of time there. There's electric light and running
water in all the rooms and we're just as comfortable there as we would
be in the city."

"It's beautiful, but really, Miss Eleanor, I don't believe most farmers
could afford a place like that, even if they were a lot better off than
Paw Hoover--"

"They could afford a lot of the comforts, Bessie, because they don't
cost half as much as you'd think. The electric light, for instance, and
the running water. The light comes from power that we get from the brook
right on the farm, and it costs less than it does to light the house
in the city. And the water is pumped from the well by a windmill that
cost very little to put up. You see, there's a big tank on the roof,
and whenever there's a wind, the mill is started to running and the
tank is filled. Then there's enough water on hand to last even if there
shouldn't be enough wind to turn the mill for two or three days, though
that's something that very seldom happens. If all the farmers knew how
easily they could have these little comforts, and how cheap they are,
I believe more of them would put in those conveniences."

"Oh, how much easier it would have been at Hoover's if we'd had them!"
sighed Bessie. "There we had to fill the lamps every day, and every bit
of water we used in the house had to be drawn at the well and carried in
pails. It was awfully hard work."

"You see, Maw Hoover didn't have such an easy time, Bessie," said
Eleanor. "She had all that work about the house to do for years and
years. She didn't need to be so mean to you, but, after all, she might
have been nicer if she'd had a pleasanter life. It's easy to be nice and
agreeable when everything is easy, and everything goes right, but when
you have to work hard all the time, if you're a little bit inclined to
be mean, the grind of doing the same thing day after day, year after
year, seems to bring the meanness right out. I've seen lots of instances
of that, and I'm perfectly sure that if I were a farmer's wife, and had
to work like a slave I'd be a perfect shrew and there'd be no living
with me at all."

They turned in from the road now, the wagon in which Bessie and Eleanor
rode in the lead, and came into a pretty avenue that led up a gentle
grade to the ridge on which the house was built. There were trees at
each side to provide shade in the hot part of the day, and for a long
dist