1014. 
THE RURAL NEW-YORKER 
763 
“Why, it’s leaking!” exclaimed Norm, 
looking up and receiving the washout in 
one eye. 
“What doing, fellows?” inquired Jim’s 
voice at the open door. 
“We're getting leaked on,” Nate re¬ 
plied cheerfully. 
“And you’ll get leaked on a lot more. 
We’re in for a three days’ rain. Where’s 
your tar paper and an extra hammer? 
We could cover and batten one shanty 
in a little while if we all took hold ; but 
you’ll be about drowned out unless you 
do something to stop the cracks. It’s 
been dry for a month now, and every¬ 
thing split open as far as it can be. 
“Tar paper!” spurted Nate. 
“And tar paper!” chortled Norm. 
“Why, you’re out of the fashion if you 
don't tar-paper your house out here. It 
makes it warm, and it keeps out wind 
and rain better than lumber or plaster.” 
“I thought homesteading and farming 
the simplest, easiest things in the world, 
and inexpensive; but I’m blamed if both 
don’t eat up money like a gourmand,” 
Nate said, whimsically. 
“If it’s got to be tar paper, it has to 
be; and if it’s going to rain so we can’t 
work. I’m going to Wetasket and lay in 
our Fall supplies. The rain won’t hurt 
me, and the oxen will be out in it, any¬ 
way. I must begin to plow the minute 
the rain stops. I must get some land 
broken ready for Spring. We must make 
out a complete list now, so we will not 
have to go again till it freezes. We’ve 
simply got to have a breaking plow.” 
With Jim’s practical help the boys 
made out a list that seemed adequate. 
And beside the general list Nate added 
a few small items for his own use. 
“Put down emery paper, rotten stone 
and oil for me,” said Nate; “and call at 
the post office and at the freight office, 
too. I’m expecting a bone cutter. I 
ordered it C. O. I). I couldn’t wait till 
I got my money.” 
“Practical things, absolute necessities,” 
Norm said laconically; but he made the 
memorandum. 
“I'll make ’em pay for themselves,” 
Nate answered cheerfully, smiling at 
Norm. 
"Well, as you’ve been pretty econom¬ 
ical with your cough medicine, maybe we 
can afford a few cents for emery paper 
to amuse the kid—” Norm stopped, 
looked at Nate sharply. “Ray. kid, I 
don’t know when you’ve coughed.” 
“I’m pretty well quit of that bad 
habit,” gloried Nate, throwing his shoul¬ 
ders back and trying to thrust out his 
still shrunken chest. “I haven’t taken a 
drop of medicine since we came here!” 
with evident pride. 
“But I’ve bought stuff every time I’ve 
been to town,” Norm demurred. 
“And I’ve lugged it back every time 
I've been. I fixed it up with the drug¬ 
gist. I just wanted to see how long it 
would be before you noticed.” Nate 
looked radiant. 
“Why, you little scamp, you!” Norm 
spoke as though to a little child, for the 
lifting of this fearful handicap from the 
one he loved best filled him with such 
joy it nearly overwhelmed him. “Shake, 
kid; shake,” and the two boys’ hands 
met in a strong clasp. “Come to look at 
you ; you do look as gay as a boy with 
a brand-new spanking.” Norm paused 
again to fill his eyes with the goodly 
sight. “You’re filling out. too. Your 
skin must be as thick again as it was 
when I first found you, lopping in your 
own blood under the pine tree at home.” 
“lie looks as though he had pin fever. 
IIis legs are swelled up as big as knit¬ 
ting needles,” Jim said dryly; but he 
stood with his back to the boys, and he 
thrust a bronzed hand across his eyes 
before lie turned around. 
“And to think I’d never noticed,” 
murmured Norm, slipping his arms into 
his oilskin coat. “I’ll bring you a great 
big treat of oil and rotten stone.” And 
Norm went lumbering away. 
“What are you going to do now?” in¬ 
quired Jim, after Norm had gone. 
“I’m going to begin to dig a little 
cellar under the shanty. I can make an 
opening to throw the dirt out, and we’ll 
need a place for our vegetables. I see 
there’s quite a little bunch out in the 
garden.” 
“I'll help,” Jim volunteered. “No floor 
in this shack. We can begin right here.” 
Nate found the pick-axe and spade, 
and Jim took hold with the pick, while 
Nate shoveled out the soil loosened up 
by him. They were in the midst of their 
work, with dirt flying in every direction, 
when Hank Jones appeared. 
"We’re digging a cellar for our Win¬ 
ter supplies,” Nate informed. 
“Go get. your shovel, you gazaboo!” 
ordered Jim; and Hank, nothing loth, 
joined his great force to that of the 
other boys. They had a jolly dinner to¬ 
gether, and the work went forward with 
great gusto until Nate had to attend to 
the evening work. 
“There!” he cried exultantly. “We’ve 
got quite a hole in the ground.” Nate 
wiped his forehead and gazed admiringly 
at the cellar. “I believe I know better 
how to dig than I do to milk ; but we 
can’t let that cow go unmilked.” 
“Let Jim milk, lie grew up milking,” 
Hank suggested. “You’re better at grub 
slinging.” 
“I’ll sling the grub, but I’d like to 
milk that cow!” 
“I’ll work a little longer here,” llank 
volutneered. 
“Which side do you sit on to do the 
pumping?” Nate inquired earnestly as he 
stood beside the red cow. 
“Most au.v side,” Jim replied. “She 
might be a left-handed pumper, for all 
I know.” 
“Is there a difference?” Nate asked 
innocently. 
“You might try it and see,” Jim said 
maliciously. 
Nate sat down carefully on the left 
side of the cow. She turned her head 
and looked at him askance, but she did 
not say anything else. Nate reached 
forth a slim hand and began the pump¬ 
ing process, but only for an instant. The 
red cow lifted one onyx hoof and set it 
down inside the milk pail. Nate escaped 
unhurt, looking daggers at Jim, who 
stood convulsed with laughter. 
“Try the other side,” Jim suggested 
mildly. 
Again Nate essayed to make friends 
with the red cow, but he had only 
reached out a tentative hand, when again 
the red cow lifted.her hoof and objected. 
“My thirst for knowledge is assuaged. 
Jimmie, come now; show off, smarty!” 
Nate said good-naturedly. And .Tim, 
laughing and gurgling, sat down and 
filled the pail with milk, while Nate 
stood in abject admiration nearby. “How 
do you do it?” Nate asked, in awe. 
“It’s easy. Your early education was 
neglected, that’s all.” 
“When I was in the cook shanty I 
made pancakes,” Nate mused dreamily, 
with one eye on the triumphant Jim. 
“And cornmeal mush and milk wasn’t 
bad, and I learned to juggle with milk 
and eggs and sugar, and make—” 
“Shut up!” Jim said promptly. “I’ve 
showed you what I can do; now you go 
ahead and show your accomplishments—• 
sissy things, anyway.” 
“That reminds me,” said Nate with a 
laugh ; and the two boys went back to 
the shanty. Nate plunged in, forgetting 
for a moment the cellar digging, and just 
caught himself on the brink, tipping half 
the milk over on to Hank, who stood 
below. 
“Milk baths for Cleopatra!” Hank 
cried, spluttering and wiping his eyes. 
“It’s a waste of good material that. Say, 
there isn’t any use trying to dig here 
any more. I’ve struck slate. I’ve dug 
a little square hole, just to see how it is, 
but it’s slate clear through.” 
“Nate is going to juggle with eggs and 
cornmeal and all sorts of things,” Jim 
informed cheerfully. “And you and I 
will lay a floor while he does his slight- 
of-hand.” 
“Huh!” said Nate. “Who said so?” 
“You said you could; now prove it,” 
and with a laugh all three boys set to 
work. 
When Norm drove up to the shanty 
door there issued odors most delectable, 
and Nate, with a pan of hot biscuits in 
one hand and a fork in the other, greeted 
him gaily. 
“Get in here,” Jim said. “Hank and 
I’ll take your team. You’ve been out in 
the wet all day, and it’s Nate’s treat to¬ 
night. ” 
Norm, nothing loath, entered the warm 
little shack and beheld the goodly array 
of eatables. 
“Glory! but it seems good to get back 
home; and you’ve got on one of your 
gingham aprons. Say. I’ve got more 
stuff for you—letters.” and he drew from 
his inner pocket several. “And your 
bone-cutter.” 
“Glory! but this is a red-letter day 
at the sign of the gingham apron,” Nate 
chanted, flourishing an open letter. “I 
can sell all the buffalo horns I can 
supply for from .$‘2.50 up per pair. Look 
here!” and Nate held the letter before 
Norm’s astonished eyes. 
“How on earth did you think of it? 
This’ll be the first harvest off the land. 
I never should have thought of trying to 
sell such stuff. What a head you’ve got, 
anyway! ” 
“I hope it rains three days more. 
We’ll lam into the horn-polishing busi¬ 
ness, and maybe we can earn a team of 
horses before Spring, if we have good 
luck.” 
“ I’ve never helped, but I’m going to 
now. Even your worst foolishness seems 
to turn out into money, someway,” Norm 
said warmly. 
It rained for two days steadily, and 
Nate and Norm worked at buffalo horns 
as though their lives depended on it, and 
owing to so much having been accomp¬ 
lished before by Nate and Jim, at the 
end of the second day 15 pairs of horns 
were ready for shipment to an Eastern 
curio firm. And it happened that that 
very day Nate had a chance to ship 
them, sending to Wetasket by some set¬ 
tler going that way. 
The third morning dawned clear and 
bright; Norm was up early, and after 
breakfast he brought out the oxen and 
the shining new breaking plow. “Now 
we’ll lay out a land and break the vir¬ 
gin soil!” Norm exulted, so with many 
fussings and measurings, Norm finally 
turned a long furrow north and south, 
directly across the line between Jim 
Maynard’s place and his own. How 
those boys gloated over that first furrow, 
Nate walking beside Norm as he guided 
the oxen to their task. How the rich 
black soil seemed fraught with romance 
and fortune! That soil, never turned to 
the sun before; never perhaps even 
trodden by a white man’s foot. Oh, there 
was a glory of gladness in the clear Oc¬ 
tober air, and it was not until afternoon 
that Nate could tear himself away from 
the fascinating field work; and lie had 
taken his first real lesson in farming. 
After dinner, however, he uncrated and 
set up the bone-eutter in the chicken 
house, and set to work to grind the 
buffalo bones into a meal, which lie hoped 
also to make a commercial product. The 
machine was a heavy, ball-bearing one, 
and the grinding was not as hard as he 
had expected. Still he hoped to fix some 
way by which it could be turned by 
horse or ox power. The days flew by as 
days had never done before. What with 
the breaking, which both boys enjoyed 
and shared, and the horn-polishing and 
bone-cutting, the time was so fully occu¬ 
pied with real work, full of zest and 
enthusiasm, it seemed almost no time 
until the first check for the sale of the 
polished buffalo horns arrived. Nate tore 
the letter open and glanced at the check. 
“Seven-fifty,” he said joyously; “seven- 
fifty for those old, worthless horns.” 
Norm took the check. “Seven-fifty,” 
he scouted. “Can’t you read. It’s sev¬ 
enty-five dollars!” Norm himself stood 
fairly aghast at the enormity of the 
good luck. 
Nate gasped, gurgled, grasped the 
check and looked again. “You’re right,” 
he said, almost choking, to think that 
perhaps he could do his share and help 
along the partnership, which had seemed 
so one-sided to him. And, moreover, 
there was a hurry order for more pol¬ 
ished horns. 
Highly elated and encouraged by this 
venture, both boys devoted every moment 
of their spare time to preparing the 
horns for market. It was an arduous 
task, long and difficult, and very particu¬ 
lar. and not one pair was relinquished 
until they were as smooth as glass and 
as rich as ebony. Every morning before 
light Ihe boys worked with the grind¬ 
stone, and every night they scraped with 
glass, rubbed with emery paper, with rot¬ 
ten stone, and finally with oil for the 
final finish. The grindstone Nate fixed 
wth a foot pedal, so that one could use 
it without help, and this facilitated the 
work very materially. After the first 
return from the sale of the buffalo horns 
Nate and Norm considered buying a 
team of horses wth great seriousness. 
“We could buy a team for three hun¬ 
dred dollars,” Norm said thoughtfully; 
“young mares, too.” 
“With the buffalo money, and what 
there is left of our thrashing swag, we 
could pay for one horse now and give 
our note for the other. It seems as 
though we could polish horns enough to 
pay for the other long before Spring,” 
Nate replied optimistically. But Norm 
had an inbred horror of debt, which, 
however, after much thought, was over¬ 
ruled. With the horses, then both boys 
could break all day, and so give them a 
greater acreage for cropping the follow¬ 
ing Spring. And so it chanced that 
Norm went questing for the team, and 
came back at night with a span of beau¬ 
tiful dapple-grey mares. But with the 
team came other expenses. They must 
have harnesses, and a second breaking 
plow; and then, too. they must have 
good barn shelter, with feed and plenty 
of hay. 
(To he continued next month.) 
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