22 ALFALFA FARMING IN AMERICA. 
he looked at his watch; it was past 5 o’clock, so he 
went home and shed off his muddy overalls and went 
across the fields to see the sweetheart, happier than 
any king. 
Spring came in all its maze of bewildering hope 
and promise and beauty, as it comes in central Ohio, 
and the boy was supremely happy. There was just 
the joy of seeing God’s miracles all around him, the 
bursting buds, the unfolding leaves, the blossoms on 
every twig, the tender grass hiding the dull, ugly 
earth, the dewdrops sparkling in the morning light 
and all the little birds singing cheerily their songs 
of gratitude and joy. There seemed something 
prophetic in it all, and something very wonderful, 
God’s forgiveness, God’s fulfillment of His gra- 
cious promises. In a dim way the boy understood 
and believed, and realized his own duty in the mat- 
ter and bent eagerly to the task, seeking in a way to 
make himself partner with the Almighty to cover 
over the few acres entrusted to his charge with grow- 
ing things, with bloom and with beauty. 
Yes, it was the joyous seedtime when all one’s 
hopes spring up anew and he has prophetic insight 
into what may be and what should be, not only of 
the good green earth, but of one’s own soul as well. 
Every morning bright and early the boy was astir in 
the fields, with a faithful colored man, Frank, to 
help him. He had brought with him from Utah two 
bags of alfalfa seed and this he wished to sow. But 
the father was much alarmed. ‘‘No, my boy, we 
cannot afford to sow so much as that at one time. It 
