THE TIM BUNKER PAPEES. 215 



in America, and I believe our Sally is pretty much the 

 same way of thinking. At any rate, I guess he has been 

 to a husking, and knows pretty near how they go on. 

 The old folks that evening had the barn floor pretty much 

 to themselves, the young ones preferring out-of-doors, 

 where they had a plenty of moonshine in the heavens, and 

 I guess some below. 



Jake Frink s corn field of course came up for discussion ; 

 for I never saw men at a husking but they wanted one 

 more butt than they found in the corn heap. It was cer 

 tainly the poorest piece of corn in the neighborhood, and 

 if there is any poorer in town, I have not seen it. It 

 wasn t so much because the land was poor naturally, for 

 his farm joins mine, and there can t be a great deal of 

 original difference in the soil. His corn field and mine 

 were not a quarter of a mile apart, but there was a good 

 deal more than that difference in the yield. Tucker prob 

 ably made an under-statement in putting it at ten bushels 

 and a fraction, but there could not have been over twenty 

 bushels, and one-third of that was soft corn. It was hoed 

 only once, and the crop of wild mustard and wormwood 

 was very generous. Grass was so plenty that Jake s cows 

 found the best pasture upon the corn field. 



&quot; What is gwine to be the price of mustard this fall, 

 naber Frink?&quot; inquired Seth Twiggs. 



&quot; I don t care,&quot; said Jake, &quot; I sha n t have any to sell. 

 It makes tol able fodder.&quot; 



&quot; You ll make beef on t, I suppose,&quot; remarked Tucker, 

 very gravely. 



&quot; How much profit d ye spose ye ve made on that crop ?&quot; 

 inquired Uncle Jotham. 



&quot; Profit ! &quot; exclaimed Jake. &quot; I don t farm for profit. 

 I m thankful enuff if I can get a livin . I ve allers had a 

 hard time on t, and this year have run astarn a little more 

 than common.&quot; 



&quot; And where do you spose the leak is, in your pocket ?&quot; 



