HAPPY HOLLOW FARM 127 



end but the most obvious utility wasn't justi- 

 fied to their understanding. 



There was Jake. Jake lived on a rocky 

 little patch on the hillside back of Happy Hol- 

 low there were three generations of a multi- 

 tudinous family in a squalid two-room shack 

 set on stilts, with a couple of pigs sheltered 

 beneath the floor. Jake was of the middle gen- 

 eration. Though he had lived here all his life, 

 almost under the shadow of the walls of the 

 university, neither he nor any of his folks 

 could read a word ; nor could any one of them, 

 by any toilsome "figgerin'," discover how many 

 quarters and dimes and nickels went to make 

 up a dollar. When he was paid for a day's 

 work, he liked to have his money given him in 

 one big, round coin. He knew what that was. 



Jake used to work for us at odd times, ac- 

 cording to the philosophy of the neighborhood ; 

 that is, he didn't want a steady job, but he 

 learned to look upon our farm as a place where 

 he might come for an occasional day's work in 

 emergency, when his family would be "plumb 

 out of meal." Whenever we saw him come 

 moseying down the trail from his cabin we 

 could tell at a distance infallibly whether he 

 was coming as a laborer or to make us a 



