. After that I begun to enjoy gardenin' a
bit more. I'm gettin' to be a real shark at it, too. And ambitious! You
ought to hear me.

"How about havin' a couple more lanes of string-beans laid out?" I
suggests. "And maybe a few hundred mounds of green corn, eh?"

And then I can watch Joe start the enterprise with a plow and an old
white horse, and I can go to the office feelin' that, no matter how much
I seem to be soldierin', as a matter of fact I'm puttin' in a full day's
work. When I get back in the afternoon, the first thing I want to see is
how much I've got done.

Not that I'm able to duck all kinds of labor that way. Believe me, a
country place is no loafin' spot, especially when it's new, or you're
new to it. Vee tends to that. Say, that girl can think up more odd forms
of givin' me exercise than a bunch of football coaches--movin' bureaus,
hangin' pictures, puttin' up curtain-rods, fixin' door-catches, and
little things like that.

Up to a few weeks ago all I knew about saws and screw-drivers and so on
was that they were shiny things displayed in the hardware store windows.
But if I keep on tacklin' all the odd jobs she sics me on to, I'll be
able to qualify pretty soon as a boss carpenter, a master plumber, and
an expert electrician.

Course, I gouge myself now and then. My knuckles look like I'd been
mixin' in a food riot, and I've spoiled two perfectly good suits of
clothes. But I can point with pride to at least three doors that I've
coaxed into shuttin', I've solved the mystery of what happens to a
window-weight when the sash-cord breaks, and I've rigged up two
drop-lights without gettin' myself electrocuted or askin' any advice
from Mr. Edison.

Which reminds me that what I can't seem to get used to about the country
is the poor way it's lighted up at night. You know, our place is out a
couple of miles from the village and the railroad station; and, while we
got electric bulbs enough in the house, outside there ain't a lamp-post
in sight. Dark! Say, after 8 P.M. you might as well be livin' in a
sub-cellar with the sidewalk gratin' closed. Honest, the only glim we
can see from our front porch is a flicker from the porte cochere at the
Ellinses' up on the hill, and most of that is cut off by trees and lilac
bushes.

Vee don't seem to mind, though. These mild evenin's recent, she's
dragged me out after dinner for a spell and made me sit with her
watchin' for the moon to come up. I do it, but it ain't