THE BEAN-FIELD 
Meanwhile my beans, the length of whose rows, 
added together, was seven miles already planted, were 
impatient to be hoed, for the earliest had grown consid¬ 
erably before the latest were in the ground; indeed they 
were not easily to be put off. What was the meaning 
of this so steady and self-respecting, this small Hercu¬ 
lean labor, I knew not. I came to love my rows, my 
beans, though so many more than I wanted. They at¬ 
tached me to the earth, and so I got strength like An¬ 
taeus. But why should I raise them ? Only Heaven 
knows. This was my curious labor all summer, — to 
make this portion of the earth’s surface, which had 
yielded only cinquefoil, blackberries, johnswort, and the 
like, before, sweet wild fruits and pleasant flowers, pro¬ 
duce instead this pulse. What shall I learn of beans 
or beans of me ? I cherish them, I hoe them, early and 
late I have an eye to them; and this is my day’s work. 
It is a fine broad leaf to look on. My auxiliaries are 
the dews and rains which water this dry soil, and what 
fertility is in the soil itself, which for the most part is 
lean and effete. My enemies are worms, cool days, and 
( 168 ) 
