22 MY FARM. 



of the northern railways, and after an hour s ride, 

 was put down at a station some five miles distant 

 from the property. I drove across the country at a 

 leisurely pace, stopping here and there upon a hilltop 

 to admire the far-off views, and speculating upon 

 possible improvements that might be made in the 

 badly conditioned road. The neighborhood was not 

 populous : indeed, it was only after having measured, 

 as I fancied, the fifth mile, that I for the first time 

 saw a party from whom I might ask special direc 

 tions. I may describe this party as a tall man in red 

 beard and red fur cap, with a black-stemmed porce 

 lain pipe in his mouth, and pantaloons thrust into 

 stout cowhide boots. He was striding forward in the 

 same direction with me, and at nearly an equal pace. 

 &quot; Did he possibly know of a Mr. Van Heine in 

 this region ? &quot; 



Yahyah,&quot; and the man, who may have been an 

 emigrant of only four or five years of American na 

 tionality, pointed toward himself with a pleased and 

 grim complacency. 



&quot; This was Mr. Van Heine, then, who has a coun- 

 tiy property to sell ? &quot; 



Yah yah,&quot; and his smile has now grown eager 

 and familiar. 



His place is a little farther ; and I ask him to a 

 seat beside me. 



