Ploughing 1 1 



stretch — it was a hungry man's path, straight, 

 very narrow, and deeply trodden. Slow Pete 

 had made it, walking at night and morning to 

 and from his cabin in the edge of the flat- 

 woods. 



The ploughshare tore up the path in a clod 

 half a yard long. Joe looked at it, and won- 

 dered why it should take two ploughings and 

 as many seedings to get the path-mark en- 

 tirely out of the field. He wondered also why 

 so many coarse, broad-leafed things, plantain, 

 burdock and their kidney, should keep spring- 

 ing up in the ploughed land to mark the 

 path's course. He speculated a little too as 

 to whether the path proper would fetch wheat, 

 or if the clean sound seed sown on it, would 

 turn out cheat. He knew tramping wheat 

 through the winter would turn it to cheat. 

 At least his father said and thought so — and 

 Joe never let himself doubt anything his father 

 said. 



Sunshine had flooded the field as he stuck 

 the share in earth. By time he had gone 

 around the land his forehead was beaded all 

 over. He wiped oiF the sweat, swung his hat 

 high above his head, and yelled, loudly, hap- 

 pily. Dan answered with a whoop. Slow 

 Pete, down in the grass-land, sent back a qua- 

 vering halloo. There was a drenching dew. 

 Joe was wet to the knees. He looked doubt- 



