Band books

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.


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