300 



"Hallo, Mr. Stamford!" said Robert,' " where did you 

 come from ? I was afraid I had driven you off. This is Mr. 

 Justin Stamford, Harriet, our next neighbor through the 

 woods." 



" Glad to see you, ma'am. You is the first lady I ever see 

 that showed a spark of interest in farmin'." 



I returned the salutation as well as I could, being some- 

 what amused at the queer mixing up of heads and rakes. 



Taking up the rake, Robert went to work, raking the 

 weeds instead of hoeing them, leaving me to entertain 

 Mr. Stamford. This I was not inclined to do. It was 

 nearly four o'clock in the afternoon, high time all reasona- 

 ble people should be about some regular employment. Yet 

 here was this man, idly stopping to talk ; and talk he did, in 

 a straight line, till I could stand it no longer ; so, as politely 







as I could, I escaped to the house, much wondering at the 

 man's utter indifference to the value of time. Perhaps he 

 is a man of property and leisure, thought I. He don't 

 look it, and he says he has a two-hundred-acre farm. 

 How is it possible he can have any leisure at this time 

 of the year and with such an estate? 



So the days sped away and the summer was at hand. 

 Our days were devoted to the farm, and our evenings to 

 reading for profit or pleasure. We read all the agricul- 

 tural books we could obtain from our neighbor, Comfort, 



