NABOTH’S VINEYARD 293 
« What will have to do?” asked Kyrle. 
« The 160 acres over there.” 
«You unconscionable wretch! Have you 
evicted the poor widow, and she on her death- 
bed? For stiffening the neck and hardening the 
heart, commend me to the close-to-nature life of 
the farmer. I wouldn’t own a farm for worlds. 
It risks one’s immortality. Give me the wicked 
city for pasturage—and a friend who will run 
a farm, at his own risk, and give me the benefit 
of it.” 
