HAPPY HOLLOW FARM 309 



the lexicons or the books of synonyms; the 

 words I want aren't there. I've been searching 

 everywhere for them, but they elude me. I'm 

 beginning to wonder if anybody has yet found 

 them, or if they aren't still to be molded out of 

 the flux of life. There must be words still un- 

 born, better than any we know. You'll think 

 so if you ever try to tell a plain true story like 

 this. If I were only romancing there would 

 be plenty of words crowding up for attention; 

 but for use in a bit of truth-telling there are 

 so few! 



Where's the word for supreme content, for 

 unfaltering faith in the Divine order of things? 

 There isn't any; but there will be some time. 

 The wordsmiths won't be the fellows who'll 

 make it. It will leap warm and living out of 

 the heart of somebody all unlearned in every- 

 thing but content and faith. When the right 

 time comes, suddenly he'll look up from his 

 work and speak the great word simply. 



I wish I had it now, for that's the word I'd 

 like to use in telling of the spirit that hovers 

 over Happy Hollow. It's a passion too deep 

 to be sounded, a calm too perfect to be ruffled, 

 both rolled into one. We would have that feel- 

 ing astir in us though we had failed as farm- 



