CROPS AND PROFITS 



shrewd flash in it, from the depths of sixty 

 years; and under the hair of his temple, you 

 may see a remaining bit of bleached skin, 

 which shows that he was — fifty odd years 

 ago — a fair-complexioned boy. 



He has grown gray upon his straggling 

 farm of one or two hundred acres; yet it is 

 doubtful if the farm will produce more now, 

 than on the day he entered into possession. 

 Some walls have been renewed, and the old 

 ones are tottering. Broken barways have been 

 replaced by new ones; the wood pile has its 

 stock year after year; and every tenth year, 

 when oil is down, the house has its coat of 

 paint — himself being mixer and painter — save 

 under the eaves, for which ladder work, he 

 employs a country journeyman, who takes 

 half pay in pork or grain. When "help" is 

 low, he clears some outstanding rye field, and 

 commences a new bit of wall — a disunited link, 

 which possibly his heirs may complete. Every 

 year, six, ten, or twelve hogs grow into ple- 

 thoric proportions; every year they are butch- 

 ered, under a great excitement of hot water, 

 lard-try ings, unctuous fatty smells— sausage 

 stuffing, and sales to the "packer" of the town. 

 Every year he tells their weight to his neigh- 

 bors, between services, at meeting — with his 



