et before him, allowing himself no backward glances into the
_dolce-far-niente_ land left behind. As it was characteristic of him to
approach any problem from the scholar's standpoint, he attacked his
agricultural puzzles from a far more scientific angle than his father had
done, bringing to them an intelligence that often compensated for
experience and opened before him vistas of surprising interest. He
subscribed to garden magazines; studied into crop rotation and the
grafting of trees and vines; spent a few months at college experimenting
with soils and chemicals. He investigated in up-to-date farming machinery
and bought some of the devices he felt would economize labor.

Gradually the problem of wresting a living from the soil broadened and
deepened until it assumed alluring proportions. Farming became a conundrum
worthy of the best brain, and one at which the supercilious could ill
afford to scoff. Martin found himself giving to it the full strength both
of his body and mind.

By the end of the first year he had become resigned to his new career; by
the end of the second interested in it; by the end of the third
enthusiastic.

In the meantime, as season succeeded season, the soil he had so patiently
tended began to give him thanks, returning ever increasing harvests. The
trees in the old orchard bent under their weight of apples; the grapevines
were lush with fruit. The Howe farm acquired fame in the neighborhood.

The boy was proud of his success and justly so. Not alone did it represent
man's triumph over Nature, but it also meant the mastery of Martin's own
will over his inclinations. And all the while that he was achieving this
dual victory he was developing from a thin, over-grown lad into a muscular
young giant,--keen-eyed, broad-shouldered, deep-chested, strong-armed. He
was lithe as an Indian and almost as unwearying. If through the cross
rifts of his daily routine there filtered occasional shadows of
loneliness, he only vaguely acknowledged their existence, attributing his
groping longing for sympathy to the lack of male companionship and the
uncongeniality that existed between himself and his sisters.

He had, to be sure, a few masculine acquaintances in the village, but most
of them were older and less progressive than he, and they offered him
little aid in his difficulties. Having farmed all their lives and been
content with the meager results they had obtained, they shrugged their
shoulders at Mar