HOUSE-CLEANING 57 
well worth the price asked, $300. I was pleased 
with the team, and remembered a remark I had 
heard as a boy from an itinerant Methodist min- 
ister at a time when the itinerant minister was 
_ supposed to know all there. was to know about 
 horse-flesh. This was his remark: “There was 
- never a flea-bitten mare that was a poor horse.” 
In spite of its ambiguity, the saying made an 
_ impression from which I never recovered. I al- 
ways expected great things from flea-bitten grays. 
The team, wagon, harness, etc., added $395 to 
_ the debit account against the farm. Polly se- 
cured her girl, a green German who had not 
been long enough in America to despise the 
country. 
«She doesn’t know a thing about our ways,” 
_ said Polly, «but Mrs. Thompson can train her 
as she likes. If you can spend time enough with 
green girls, they are apt to grow to your liking.” 
On Thursday I saw Anderson and the new 
team safely started for the farm. Then Polly, 
the new girl, and I took train for the most: inter- 
_ esting spot on earth. 
Soon after we arrived I lost sight of Polly, 
who seemed to have business of her own. I 
found the mason and his men at work on the 
eellar wall, which was almost to the top of the 
ground. The house was on wheels, and had made 
_ most of its journey. The house mover was in a 
rage because he had to put the house on a hole 
instead of on solid ground, as he had expected. 
