CHAPTER XLVI1 

 NABOTH'S VINEYARD 



ONE hazy, lazy October afternoon, as my 

 friend Kyrle and I sat on the broad porch hit- 

 ting our pipes, sipping high balls, and watching 

 the men and machines in the corn-fields, as all 

 toiling sons of the soil should do, he said : 



" Doctor, I don't think you've made any mis- 

 take in this business." 



" Lots of them, Kyrle ; but none too serious 

 to mend." 



" Yes, I suppose so ; but I didn't mean it that 

 way. It was no mistake when you made the 

 change." 



" You're right, old man. It's done me a heap 

 of good, and Polly and the youngsters were 

 never so happy. I only wish we had done it 

 earlier." 



" Do you think I could manage a farm ? " 



" Why, of course you can ; you've managed 

 your business, haven't you ? You've grown rich 

 in a business which is a great sight more taxing. 

 How have you done it ? " 



" By using my head, I suppose." 



285 



