HAPPY HOLLOW FARM 133 



grains in the next season. Through years of 

 careless use, the soil had been stripped of just 

 about the last pennyweight of its available 

 nitrogen, so that every leaf and blade that tried 

 to grow upon the land looked bloodless sick- 

 lied o'er, you might say, with the pale cast of 

 thoughtlessness. Our cowpeas had begun the 

 work of restoration, catching free nitrogen out 

 of the air and tucking it deep into the crannies 

 and crevices. Our oats and rye came on in the 

 next spring a thick coat of vivid green, vigor- 

 ous and hearty, the straw twice as tall as it had 

 stood the year we bought the place, and rich 

 with broad, succulent leaves. Most of that 

 change was to be credited to one good cropping 

 with the cowpea. So, when the grain was cut, 

 cured and hauled to the haymows, the land was 

 broken again immediately, and then we har- 

 rowed in a bushel and a half of cowpeas to the 

 acre. On some of the patches the peas stood 

 alone; on one we mixed half a bushel of Ger- 

 man millet with each bushel of peas, and on 

 another half a bushel of amber sorghum, to 

 see if the stiff straw and cane would support 

 the vines and aid in the work of curing. We've 

 stuck to that system. Sometimes, when the 

 hay supply threatens to be short, we plant the 



