osts it will take to
fence this farm as we have platted it? I suppose not. Well, I can tell
you. Twenty-two hundred and fifty at one rod apart, or 1850 at twenty
feet apart. These posts must be six feet above and three feet below
ground. They will cost eighteen cents each. That item will be $333, for
there are seven miles of fence, including the line fence between me and
my north neighbor. I am going to build that fence myself, and then I
shall know whose fault it is if his stock breaks through. Of course some
of the old posts are good, but I don't believe one in twenty is long
enough for my purpose."

"What do you buy cedar posts for, when you have enough better ones on
the place?" asked Thompson.

"I don't know what you mean."

"Well, down in the wood yonder there's enough dead white oak, standing
or on the ground, to make three thousand, nine-foot posts, and one
seasoned white oak will outlast two cedars, and it is twice as strong."

"Well, that's good! How much will it cost to get them out?"

"About five cents apiece. A couple of smart fellows can make good wages
at that price."

"Good. We will save thirteen cents each. They will cost $93 instead of
$333. I don't know everything yet, do I, Thompson?"

"You learn easy, I reckon."

"Keep your eyes and ears open, and if you find any one who can do this
job, let him have it, for we are going to be too busy with other things
at present. It's time for me to be off. I cannot be out again till
Thursday, for I must find a man, a woman, and a team of horses and all
that goes with them. I'll see you on the 8th at any rate."

I was dead tired when I reached home; but there wasn't a grain of
depression in my fatigue,--rather a sense of elation. I felt that for
the first time in thirty years real things were doing and I was having a
hand in them. The fatigue was the same old tire that used to come after
a hard day on my father's farm, and the sense was so suggestive of youth
that I could not help feeling younger. I have never gotten away from the
faith that the real seed of life lies hidden in the soil; that the man
who gives it a chance to germinate is a benefactor, and that things done
in connection with land are about the only real things. I have grown
younger, stronger, happier, with each year of personal contact with the
soil. I am thankful for seven years of it, and look forward to twice
seven more. I have lost the softness which nearly wilted me that 5th day
of