HAPPY HOLLOW FARM 27 



in saying that the place had no improvements. 

 Nobody would have thought of giving that 

 name to the weather-beaten old log house 

 standing on the hill-slope, sheltering the tenant 

 farmer and his family. The walls were mud- 

 chinked, the doors hung awry, the broken win- 

 dows were patched with paper and stuffed with 

 faded rags. The house-yard was an ugly litter 

 of refuse of unnumbered years of shiftless liv- 

 ing. Near by was a tumble-down stable of 

 thatched poles. Down below, by the big 

 spring, stood a log-walled granary without 

 any grain in it. No, there weren't any im- 

 provements. 



The tenant, a lean, listless man of the hills, 

 came up and joined us presently. 



"You-uns thinkin' of buyin' thish-yere 

 farm?" he wanted to know. "It ain't worth 

 nothin'. It's a tumble sorry farm. You-all 

 could starve plumb to death on thish-yere 

 farm." 



Even the real-estater showed signs of emo- 

 tion when we told him we were ready to talk 

 turkey. The price was twenty dollars an acre ; 

 we might pay one-fourth down and have any 

 time we liked for paying the rest. We didn't 

 try to dicker. If we had but known it we 



