of manner (though not much suavity of farming) ; but when he met me 
he had a habit of saying in a loud voice fitted for calling cattle, ‘Hello, 
Doc., how ish de old vooman?’’ This considerate attention coming to 
Mrs. Mugwump’s ears, the man moved from the farm before his lease 
expired. The next gentleman to do me the courtesy to reside on my 
farm gratis, was an American. He was a devotee of business, but not 
of my business. He took the medal, however, for raising sunflowers. 
When he was on horseback (and he rode a tall and angular nag), he 
could ride through his sunflower grove and not be detected. He was 
as practically concealed as if he had been riding through the forests of 
the Amazon. Now I was gratified to see the excessive fertility of my 
soil; but the neighbors smiled at the harvest, and I think one’s neigh- 
bors are to be considered (no man liveth to himself). This tenant 
went away leaving the spring in the old spot, for which I was duly 
grateful. The barb wire fence he wrapped up in reels. I hope he used 
it for settees. The next tenant was an Irishman and was a choice 
spirit, kindly, but not facetious; courageous, but not a man of levity; a 
Sir Walter Raleigh in the use of the pipe, and as honest as Aristides. 
He encourages the apples to grow, but discourages the cockle burs, and 
the reverse had been the uniform custom of his predecessors—my ten- 
ants (I speak with pride in my pencil), and the change was to me pleas- 
ant because it had the virtue of absolute novelty. My only fault with 
this tenant is that he is so overworked keeping my farm in order (this 
according to him) that he has no time to go to church. This intensity 
of application, while it speaks well for his industry, does not commend 
itself to me as first rate piety; however under his vigilant administra- 
tion, the sunflowers are not a good crop, but the corn can be seen even 
by the casual observer, and in the winter, corn shocks pitch their teuts 
on the place like some army in winter quarters. While lauding with 
all intensity the industry of this tenant and studying the corn he raised 
with admiration, since I have not seen its like before, I still confess 
missing the sunflowers that grew with such enthusiasm and made such 
fine shade, and even in the winter under their kind auspices, the rabbits 
ate my apple-trees with delightful avidity and friendliness which always 
challenged my admiration. 1 always like to have my neighbors feel at 
home with me. The rabbits used (and used-up) my apple-trees; but 
the apple-trees are generally understood to have nourished the rabbits, 
and apple-trees and myself are in this world to do other people good. 
Strange things happen on my farm. Any night of clear skies the 
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