96 THE FAT OF THE LAND 
the wrong; nor, arguing how I might, could I 
find aught but good in my labors. I devoutly 
hoped to be able to put the matter in the same 
light when I stood at the bar in Polly’s judgment 
hall. 
The day was clear, cool, and stimulating. A 
fair fall of snow lay on the ground, clean and 
wholesome, as country snow always is. I wished 
that the house was finished (it was not begun), 
and that the family was with me init. “Another 
Christmas time will find us here, God willing, 
and many a one thereafter.” 
I spent three hours at the farm, doing a little 
business and a lot of mooning, and then returned 
to town. The children were off directly after 
dinner, intent on holiday festivities, so that Polly 
and I had the house to ourselves. I felt that we 
needed it. I invited my partner into the den, 
lighted a pipe for consolation, unlocked the 
drawer in which the farm ledger is kept, gave a 
small deprecatory cough, and said : — 
« My dear, I am afraid I have spent an awful 
lot of money in the last five months. You see 
there is such a quantity of things to do at once, 
and they run into no end of money. You know, 
Lucse 
«Of course I know it, and I know that you 
have got the worth of it, too.” 
Wouldn’t that console you! How was | to- 
know that Polly would hail from that quarter ? 
I would have kissed her hand, if she would have 
