HAPPY HOLLOW FARM 129 



"Ha-owd'y, Jake! Yes, we-uns are all up. 

 You-uns all up?" 



"Yes, we-uns all up." And then, after a 

 decently dignified interval : "I reckon I better 

 be cuttin' you-all a little jag o' wood this 

 mawnin'. We-all is needin' coffee." 



Jake could never sense the meaning of our 

 work for beauty's sake around the house. He 

 worked with us some times, doing what he was 

 told in the rough preparation; but he never 

 knew just what we were driving at. At the 

 last, when the scraping and rolling were fin- 

 ished and we began seeding our first acre with 

 Dutch clover and bluegrass, he stood by in 

 complete bewilderment. 



"Hit 'pears to me," he said, "like you-uns 

 has done spent a heap o' money gittin' that 

 little patch o' land fixed for plantin'. What 

 fer a crop is that you-all are puttin' onto it?" 



"We're planting lawn, Jake," I tried to ex- 

 plain. 



The word went clear past him. "Lawn," he 

 echoed. "I 'most believe I've hearn tell about 

 lawn, some'eres. What kind of a crop is it?" 



Even when he saw the finished work, smooth 

 and green and fair, his understanding held 

 aloof. "Hit looks to me like plumb waste," 



