se and buggy."

"But a fellow must keep up with the procession; he must have some
recreation, and all the men around here have rigs."

"Not around Four Oaks. Recreation is all right, but find it in ways less
expensive. Read, study, cultivate the best of your kind, plan for the
future and save for it, and you will not lack for recreation. Sell your
horse and buggy for $200, if you cannot get more, put the money at
interest, save $200 out of your wages, and by the end of the year you
will be worth over $400 in hard cash and much more in self-respect. You
can easily add 1200 a year to your savings, without missing anything
worth while; and it will not be long before you can buy a farm, marry a
wife, and make an independent position. I will have no horse-and-buggy
men on my farm. It's up to you."

"By Jove! I believe you may be right. It looks like a square deal, and
I'll play it, if you'll give me time to sell the outfit."

"All right, come when you can. I'll find the work."

That day being Saturday, I told Thompson that I would come out early
Monday morning, bringing with me a rough map of the place as I had
planned it, and we would go over it with a chain and drive some
outlining stakes. I then returned to Exeter, found the carpenter and the
plumber, and accepted their estimates,--$630 and $325, respectively. The
farm-house moved, finished, furnished, and heated, but not painted or
papered, would cost $2630. Painting, papering, window-shades, and odds
and ends cost $275, making a total of $2905. It proved a good
investment, for it was a comfortable and convenient home for the men and
women who afterward occupied it. It has certainly been appreciated by
its occupants, and few have left it without regret. We have always tried
to make it an object lesson of cleanliness and cheerfulness, and I don't
think a man has lived in it for six months without being bettered. It
seemed a good deal of money to put on an old farm-house for farm-hands,
but it proved one of the best investments at Four Oaks, for it kept the
men contented and cheerful workers.

CHAPTER VIII

WE PLAT THE FARM

On Monday I was out by ten o'clock, armed with a surveyor's chain.
Thompson had provided a lot of stakes, and we ran the lines, more or
less straight, in general accord with my sketch plan. We walked,
measured, estimated, and drove stakes until noon. At one o'clock we were
at it again, and by four I was fit to drop from fatigue. Farm w