302 THE FAT OF THE LAND 
hens laying eggs when not otherwise engaged, — 
three thousand apple trees striving with all — 
their might to get large enough to bear fruit,— 
these made up my ideal of a factory farm; — 
and it looked as if one year more would see it — 
complete. | 
No rain fell in October, and my brook became 
such a little brook that I dared to correct its P 
ways. We spent a week with teams, ploughs, 
and scrapers, cutting the fringe and frills away — 
from it, and reducing it to severe simplicity. It 
is strange, but true, that this reversion to sim- — 
plicity robbed it of its shy ways and rustic — 
beauty, and left it boldly staring with open eyes — 
and gaping with wide-stretched mouth at the — 
men who turned from it. We put in about two — 
thousand feet of tile drainage on both sides of 
what Polly called “that ditch,” and this com- 
pleted the improvements on the low lands. The 
land, indeed, was not too low to bear good crops, — 
but it was lightened by under drainage and ~ 
yielded more each after year. 
The tiles cost me five cents per foot, or $100 — 
for the whole. The work was done by my own 
men. 
