The Naturalizing of a City Man 
Editor’s Note: — The author of this narrative — begun in the December number—had refused to write the story 
of his experienees in going from business life to a farm. His objection was that the published account taken 
from his closely written diary would contain nothing of the joy and inspiration he felt in getting close to Nature, 
and would be merely a matter-of-fact list of happenings with their message lost. He finally consented to write 
it in his own way, allowing memory and imagination to lend color to those days of struggle which are now cher¬ 
ished recolleetions. He preferred to hide his identity under the disguise of another person, but the essential 
facts are true and full of practical information. This is the third installment and describes the early activities 
in the city man’s country life. Subsequent issues will give further details of how their problems were met 
and overcome. 
A COLD spell of more than 
usual severity had kept 
the sledding at top-notch for 
several days. All hands were 
turning their best efforts to 
rushing through what re¬ 
mained of the wood-cutting 
job. Mr. Mantell had ac¬ 
quired Squire Hunderson’s 
discarded one-horse sled by 
“swapping” for it a day’s 
labor on the part of Raffles 
and Robert. And then, with 
an extra heavy load of wood 
on, the sled had slewed and 
tipped, over a large rock, and 
both stake-chains had parted 
under the strain. 
That was about ten o’clock 
in the morning, and Raffles 
hastened off to town to have 
them welded at the black¬ 
smith s— a two-hour job at the longest. Noon came, and passed, 
and Mr. Mantell put in half the afternoon trimming trees that 
had been felled and cutting out small ones. Still no Raffles! So 
Mantell went over to the Squire’s to telephone, and found out that 
his chains had been ready since eleven a. m., and that the livery¬ 
man next door had taken pity on the horse and brought him in 
out of the cold wind and fed him at noon. No one knew where 
Raffles was. 
Mantell had the liveryman send the horse out — which cost a 
dollar that was needed for many other pur¬ 
poses — and got down a load of wood. 
About dusk the cold silence of the frozen 
world was broken by a high and somewhat 
unsteady voice rendering a sentimental ballad 
about some “Mar-ee,” and Raffles, enthroned 
in an automobile and smoking a large cigar, 
came down the long hill and up to the front 
door. 
“Ben-Del-Ile, he’s a frien’ of mine,” ex¬ 
plained Raffles. “Take a man home quicker’n 
any horse. He runs th’ garage.” 
Then he proceeded to unwrap with great 
care a box on the floor of the back of the 
machine. It was too heavy for him to 
manage, so Mantell helped him out with 
it. It was about as heavy as lead. 
“Be ca-careful,” said Raffles. “First 
purchase for Garden D’partmen’; been on 
D’partmen’ business all day — worked 
hard.” 
“What have you got there?” demanded 
Mr. Mantell sharply, as Mr. De Lile and 
his machine took a somewhat sinuous 
flight toward the front gate. 
“Ph-togerfers’ plates!” exclaimed Raf¬ 
fles proudly. “Tell you all 
about it, ]\Ir. Mantell.” 
In his present condition 
there was little use arguing 
with him, so Mantell patiently 
listened to the incessant and 
sometimes disjointed babble of 
words which followed him 
persistently during the sev¬ 
eral operations of feeding, 
bedding and milking, which 
that night he felt it advisable 
to do himself since Robert 
had gone skating. These 
“chores’’ were his duty in the 
evening just before he split 
the wood for supper, but to¬ 
night was his holiday. The 
gist of Raffles’ Niagara of 
loquaciousness was that Raf¬ 
fles’ great plans for the Gar- 
d e n Department made a 
greenhouse absolutely necessary, and as the company didn’t have 
enough capital to have one put up, he was going to build it him¬ 
self. 
The first requisite of a greenhouse was, of course, glass, and 
the best price he had been able to get on this at the hardware 
store, even by the box, with no allowance for breakage, was 
prohibitive. It was the disappointment, declared Raffles tear¬ 
fully, which had driven him to taking a glass of beer, and that 
had given him the inspiration about the photographer. He had 
bought a hundred old plates at a cent and a half 
apiece. He had started in to clean them, but 
the fumes of the acid the photographer had 
given, he said, made him dizzy — he was a little 
dizzy yet, he thought — so he had secured a box 
and packed them as they were. 
The temperance lecture which Mantell had 
been preparing for his “manager” was curtailed 
by the statement that Raffles had signed the 
pledge. He exhibited his card with some pride. 
“I’ll finish what I’ve got, and then no more 
for a year,” said Raffles. 
Mantell was not pleased. He had little 
faith in pledges. He had had some experi¬ 
ence in handling men, and now he tried a 
little experiment. 
“I’ve heard that old story before,” he 
said sternly. “I know your sort. Raffles. 
Plenty of ability, but no will power. You’re 
hopeless. You’ll break that pledge in a 
month. I know it. You can’t help it. You 
haven’t got it in you to stay straight. You 
haven’t got gimp enough to, any more than 
you could smash the rest of that pint, in¬ 
stead of swallowing it. You’re a weakling.” 
Raffles flushed up, but did not lose his 
It was Robert’s duty at the close of school days to do the evening chores, 
and the most arduous of these was the splitting of the newly cut logs 
Raffles’ greenhouse plan afl^orded much 
bench room and had the advantage of 
raised and solid beds 
(26) 
