22 THE FAT OF THE LAND 
what the worse for wear. This is how one of 
them looked when my map was finished. 
\ 
\ 
\ 
\ 
‘ 
I am not especially haughty about this map, 
but it settled a matter which had been chaotic 
in my mind. My plan was to make the farm 
a soiling one; to confine the stock within as 
limited a space as was consistent with good 
health, and to feed cultivated forage and crops. 
In drawing my map, the forty which Polly 
had segregated left the northeast forty stand- 
ing alone, and I had to cast about for some 
good way of treating it. “Make it your feed- 
ing ground,’ said my good genius, and thus 
the wrath of Polly was made to glorify my 
plans. 
This feeding lot of forty acres is all high land, 
naturally drained. It was near the obvious build- 
ing line, and it seemed suitable in every way. I 
drew a line from north to south, cutting it in 
the middle. The east twenty I devoted to cows 
and their belongings; the west twenty was di- 
