R. F. D. 191 



that the farms lose their bustle and Tom pulls his old 

 horse up for a moment under the shade of a big sugar 

 maple, while a leisurely figure in the traditional straw 

 hat comes to the split rail fence, or the stone wall, and 

 holds converse. Has Tom seen a paper that morning? 

 What are them German nuisances up to now? Is it 

 true beans are forty cents a quart? Well, well, and he 

 didn't put in more'n two rows, and might hev put in ten 

 times as many more, seein's how he cut off the poverty 

 birch last winter from the upper pasture and hed the 

 poles, or could hev hed 'em, if he hadn't cut 'em up fer 

 stove wood. What's goin' to be the end of this cost o' 

 things, anyhow? It's gettin' so a man can't afford to 

 buy grain for his cattle, and without no cattle, you ain't 

 got no manure, and without no manure you can't keep 

 up your land and there you be! Having arrived at 

 this melancholy predicament, and seeing no way out, he 

 gazes across the valley fields below to the rising green 

 wall of the hill beyond, while Tom flecks off a horse fly 

 with his whip and adds his bit of complaint that Uncle 

 Sam ain't raisin' his pay none, either, and the horse 

 costin' more to feed every day. 



Either the fleck of the whip or the mention of food 

 causes the horse gently to move forward, and, thus re- 

 minded, Tom clucks to him and goes on up the road. 

 But he seems quite cheerful when he reaches the last 

 house up the hill, and stops to give Mrs. Sanborn her 

 pound of tea and the bottle of medicine he promised to 



