THE BAPTISM OF DIRT 



the mill, and, being short-handed, I had to turn in 

 with the rest. It s the biggest crop we ever had, 

 and the old man wanted to get it in.&quot; 



&quot;It s a magnificent crop of potatoes,&quot; said the 

 Doctor, with the easy air of an expert. &quot; What s 

 it worth ? &quot; 



&quot; Well, if the old man don t realize five hun 

 dred on it, he ll be sick at Christmas. It won t 

 run as good as that more n once in five years. 

 Now, if you ll pile into that wagon, we ll take 

 you with us.&quot; 



We drew up at a long, low house hidden away 

 in locust trees, very ancestral, I thought, for peas 

 ants. A shaft of ruddy light shot into the road 

 from the summer kitchen, where a motherly dame 

 in a white apron stood in the doorway with her 

 hand over her eyes, trying to make out what had 

 arrived in the wagon, a curiosity that suddenly 

 broke out in a shrill call, &quot; Mercy on me, Lize, 

 who you got there ? &quot; 



&quot;All right, mommy,&quot; said Lize. &quot;I ll be 

 there in a minute. Now, then, I suppose you 

 want to wrench the dirt off. I ll show you the 

 basin.&quot; 



How deliciously cool and vitalizing that well 

 water was. I put my head down into it, and it 

 had a fine magnetism in it. It was not long 

 before Lize came out on the porch where we were 

 waiting for her. She was attired in a clean mus 

 lin dress with a baby waist. She had evidently 

 &quot;wrenched&quot; herself expeditiously and thoroughly, 

 and she came out, as the Doctor said, like a silk- 



169 



