FARMING IT 



penter put the new fence more than a foot on my 

 land, the whole length of the division line. 



After a vigorous speech to the propitiatory 

 carpenter, in the course of which I coined several 

 entirely new objurgations appropriate to the oc- 

 casion, I jammed my hat to my ears and made 

 for Cyrus's house. I was boiling with rage, and 

 fortunately for us both Cyrus was not at home. 



As I came back, better thoughts began to take 

 possession of me. The strip of land was n't worth 

 fighting about. I had made up my mind not to 

 have any row with my neighbors, and here I was, 

 exploding like a paper bag the first time any one 

 got under my guard. 



The old scamp had certainly scored on me, but 

 I would keep my eyes open in the future. So I 

 made up my mind to forget it, or at least, if 

 I could not forget it, to take no action and to 

 say no word. 



A short time after this, some of my hens got 

 out and into his yard. There was nothing grow- 

 ing at the time, and they certainly did him no 

 damage. But when I came home, I found three 

 dead hens on my side of the fence, that he had 

 shot and thrown over. 



This so "riled" me that I promised profanely 

 to have his scalp nailed to my barn-door if it 

 took a leg. But upon sober second thought I 

 dressed the hens, sent them to him by my son 



