816 HAPPY HOLLOW FARM 



better to look at than a common railroad. I 

 don't b'lieve a railroad would content me to 

 look at like these hills does." 



Well, there you are! Say if you like that 

 the old man was hopelessly primitive and be- 

 hind the times; but he's so far ahead of the 

 times in the supreme good of life that not 

 many of us will ever catch up with him. 



I've learned to feel pretty much as he does 

 toward the glories of these hills. They've 

 given me what I needed. I've looked at them 

 for so long now, whenever there's a brief 

 chance to look away from my work, that I 

 know every round line and every gentle curve 

 and every play of light and shadow as I know 

 the soft curve of my baby's cheek and the light 

 in her eyes. I'm going to be sorry when the 

 time comes to turn my back upon them and go 

 away to look at other hills. 



We'll see some great old hills, of course; 

 hills sheltering happy valleys, hills that have 

 been blood-soaked and tormented through cen- 

 turies of bitter struggle, hills in whose shadows 

 great races of men have worked and fought 

 and suffered out their destinies; but we'll see 

 no hills so good as these at home. 



Home I Isn't that the very word I was fuss- 



