lds in Iowa--not yet; but if it weren't for those white specks on
the clover-roots, we should be obliged to do so--as they do back east."

"How do them white specks keep us from needin' nitrates?"

"It's a long story," said Jim. "You see, before there were any plants big
enough to be visible--if there had been any one to see them--the world was
full of little plants so small that there may be billions of them in one
of these little white specks. They knew how to take the nitrates from the
air----"

"Air!" ejaculated Newton. "Nitrates in the air! You're crazy!"

"No," said Jim. "There are tons of nitrogen in the air that press down on
your head--but the big plants can't get it through their leaves, or
their roots. They never had to learn, because when the little
plants--bacteria--found that the big plants had roots with sap in them,
they located on those roots and tapped them for the sap they needed.
They began to get their board and lodgings off the big plants. And in
payment for their hotel bills, the little plants took nitrogen out of
the air for both themselves and their hosts."

"What d'ye mean by 'hosts'?"

"Their hotel-keepers--the big plants. And now the plants that have the
hotel roots for the bacteria furnish nitrogen not only for themselves but
for the crops that follow. Corn can't get nitrogen out of the air; but
clover can--and that's why we ought to plow down clover before a crop of
corn."

"Gee!" said Newt. "If you could get to teach our school, I'd go again."

"It would interfere with your pool playing."

"What business is that o' yours?" interrogated Newt defiantly.

"Well, get busy with that shovel," suggested Jim, who had been working
steadily, driving out upon the fill occasionally to unload. On his return
from dumping the next load, Newton seemed, in a superior way, quite
amiably disposed toward his workfellow--rather the habitual thing in the
neighborhood.

"I'll work my old man to vote for you for the job," said he.

"What job?" asked Jim.

"Teacher for our school," answered Newt.

"Those school directors," replied Jim, "have become so bullheaded that
they'll never vote for any one except the applicants they've been voting
for."

"The old man says he will have Prue Foster again, or he'll give the school
a darned long vacation, unless Peterson and Bonner join on some one else.
That would beat Prue, of course."

"And Con Bonner won't vote for any one but Maggie Gilmartin," added Ji