ow and be quick about it.
There's forty times more chores to do here than there was back in
Crawberry--But, thanks be! there ain't no gravy to worry about."

"And there ain't no boarders to make fun of me," said Sister,
thoughtfully. Then, she announced, after some rumination: "I like pigs
better than I do boarders Mis' Atterson."

"Well, I should think you would!" exclaimed that lady, tartly. "Pigs has
got some sense."

Hiram laughed at this. "You'll find the pigs demanding gravy, just the
same--and very urgent about it they are, too," he told them.

But he was glad to give the small chores over into their hands, and went
to work immediately to prepare for putting in the early crops.

He had already cleared the rubbish off the piece of ground selected
for the garden, and had burned it. He hauled out stable manure from
the barnyard and gave an acre and a half of this piece of land a good
dressing.

The other half-acre was for early potatoes, and he wished to put the
manure in the furrow for them, so did not top dress that strip of land.
The frost was pretty well out of the ground by now; but even if some
remained, plowing this high, well-drained piece would do no harm.
Beside, Hiram was eager to get in early crops.

It was a still, hazy morning when he geared the old horse to the plow
and headed him into the garden piece. He had determined to plow the
entire plot at once, and instead of plowing "around and around" had
paced off his lands and started in the middle, plowing "gee" instead of
"haw".

This system is a bit more particular, and hard for the careless plowman;
but it overcomes that unsightly "dead-furrow" in the middle of a field
and brings the "finishing-furrow" on the edge. This insures better
surface drainage and is a more scientific method of tillage.

The plow was rusty and the point was not in the very best condition; but
after the first few rounds the share was cleaned off, and it began to
slip through the moist earth and roll it over in a long, brown ribbon
behind him.

Hiram Strong clung to the plow handles, a rope-rein in each hand, and
watched the plow and the horse and the land ahead with an eye as keen as
that of a river-pilot.

As the strip of turned earth grew wider and longer Sister ran out to see
him work. She watched the plow turn the mulch into the furrow and lay
the brown, greasy mold upon it, with wide-open eyes.

"Why!" cried she, "wouldn't it be nice if we could go right alo