crackle, a devouring rush toward the center of the pile of flames that mounted higher and higher until, with the surrounding column of smoke, there was a conflagration which, at night, would have alarmed the country-side. The children at first gazed with awe upon the scene as they backed farther away from the increasing heat. Our beacon fire drew Junior, who came bounding over the fences toward us; and soon he and Merton began to try how near they could dash in toward the blaze without being scorched. I soon stopped this. "Show your courage, Merton, when there is need of it," I said. "Rash venturing is not bravery, but foolishness, and often costs people dear." When the pile sank down into glowing embers, I turned to Bobsey, and added:

66

"I have let you light a fire under my direction. Never think of doing anything of the kind without my permission; for if you do, you will certainly sit in a chair, facing the wall, all day long, with nothing to cheer you but bread and water and a sound whipping. There is one thing which you children must learn from the start, and that is, you are not to play with fire except when I permit you."

At this direful threat Bobsey looked as grave as his round little face permitted, and, with the memory of his peril in the creek fresh in mind, was ready enough with the most solemn promises. A circle of unburned brush was left around the embers. This I raked in on the hot coals, and soon all was consumed, and eventually the ashes were spread far and wide.

Early the next morning, Mr. Jones arrived with his stout team, and, going twice in every furrow, he sunk his plow to the beam. We followed our neighbor for a few turns around the garden; then I went for a half-bushel of early potatoes, and Mr. Jones showed me how to cut them so as to leave at least two good "eyes" to each piece. I also varied my labor with lessons in plowing, for running in my head was an "old saw" to the effect that " He who would thrive must both hold the plow and drive.”

The fine weather lasted long enough for us to plant our early potatoes in the most approved fashion, and then came a series of cold, wet days and frosty nights. Mr. Jones assured us that the vegetable seeds already in the ground would receive no harm. At such times as we could work we finished trimming and tying up the hardy raspberries, cleaning up the barn-yard, and carting all the fertilizers we could find to the land that we meant to cultivate.

One long, stormy day, I prepared an accountbook. On its left-hand pages I entered the cost of the place and all expenses thus far incurred. The right-hand pages were for records of income, as yet small indeed. They consisted only of the

proceeds from the sale of the calf, the eggs that Winnie gathered, and the milk measured each day, all valued at the market price. I was resolved that there should be no blind drifting toward the breakers of failure-that at the end of the year we should know whether we had made progress, had stood still, or had gone backward. My system of keeping the accounts was so simple that I easily explained it to my wife, Merton, and Mousie; for I believed that, if they followed the effort at country living understandingly, they would be more willing to practice the self-denial necessary for success. Indeed, I had Merton write out most of the items.

My wife and Mousie also started another book of household expenses, and I assured them that, if we only kept up these records, we should always know just what our prospects were; that weeks would elapse before our place would be food-producing to any great extent; and that in the meantime we must draw chiefly on our capital in order to live.

But Winifred and I resolved to meet this necessity in no careless way, feeling that not a penny should be spent which might be saved. The fact that I had only my family to support was greatly in our favor. There was no kitchen cabinet that ate much and wasted more, to satisfy. Therefore, our revenue of eggs and milk went a great way toward meeting the problem. We made out a list of cheap, yet wholesome, articles of food, and found that we could buy oatmeal at four cents per pound, Indian meal at two and a half cents, rice at eight cents, samp at four, mackerel at nine, pork at twelve, and ham at fifteen cents. The last two articles were used sparingly, and more as relishes and for flavoring than as food. Flour happened to be cheap at the time, the best costing but seven dollars a barrel; of vegetables, we had secured abundance at slight cost; and the apples still added the wholesome element of fruit. A butcher drove his wagon to our door three times a week and, for cash, would give us, at very reasonable rates, certain cuts of beef and mutton. These my wife conjured into appetizing dishes and delicious soups. Such details may appear to some very homely, yet our health and success depended largely upon careful and thoughtful attention to just such prosaic matters. The children were growing plump and ruddy at an expense less than that which would be incurred by one or two visits from a physician in the city.

In the matter of food, I gave more thought to my wife's time and strength than to the little peopie's wishes. We had variety and abundance, but we did not have many dishes at any one meal.

The wash-tub I forbade utterly, and the services of a stout Irishwoman were secured for one

day in the week. Thus, by a little management, no one of us was overtaxed. Mousie began to give Winnie and Bobsey daily lessons; for we had decided that the children should not go to school until the coming autumn. Early in April, therefore, our country life was passing into a quiet routine, not burdensome, at least, within doors; and I justly felt that, if all were well in the citadel of home, the chances of outdoor campaigning were greatly improved.

In the dawn of each morning, unless it were stormy, Merton patroled the place with his gun, looking for hawks and other creatures which at this season he was permitted to shoot; and he looked quite as serious and important as if he were sally. ing forth to protect us from deadlier foes. For a time he saw nothing to fire at, since he had promised me not to shoot harmless birds. He always indulged himself, however, in one shot at a mark, and was becoming sure in his aim at stationary objects. One evening, however, when we were almost ready to retire, a strange sound startled us. At first it reminded me of the half-whining bark of a young dog; but the deep, guttural trill that followed convinced me that it was a screech-owl, for I remembered having heard them when a boy. The moment I explained that it was an owl, Merton darted for his gun.

I disliked the uncanny sounds which the bird made, and was under the impression that all owls, like hawks, should be destroyed. Therefore, I followed Merton out, hoping that he would have a successful shot at the night prowler.

The moonlight illumined everything with a soft, mild radiance; and the trees, with their tracery of bough and twig, stood out distinctly. Before we could discover the creature, it flew with noiseless wing from a maple near the door to another perch up the lane, and again uttered its weird notes.

Merton was away like a swift shadow, and, screening himself behind the fence, stole upon his game. A moment later, the report rang out in the still night. It so happened that Merton had fired just as the bird was about to fly, and had only broken a wing. The owl fell to the ground, but led the boy a wild pursuit before it was captured, and Merton's hands were bleeding when he brought the creature in. Unless prevented, it would strike savagely with its beak, and the motions of its head were as quick as lightning. It was, indeed, a strange captive, and the children looked at it in wondering and rather fearful curiosity. I granted Merton's request that he might put it in a box and keep it alive for a while.

"In the morning," I said, “we all will read about it, and can examine it more carefully."

Among my purchases was a fresh work on natural history; but our minds had been engrossed with too many practical questions to give it much attention. The next morning we consulted it, and found our captive was variously called the little red owl, the mottled owl, or the screech-owl. Then followed an account of its character and habits. So far from being an ill-boding, harmful creature, we learned that it was a useful friend upon which we had made war. We were taught that this species was a destroyer of mice, beetles, and vermin, thus rendering the agriculturist great services which, however, are so little known that the bird is everywhere hunted down without mercy or justice.

“Surely, this is not true of all owls,” I said, and by reading further we learned that the barred, or hoot owl, and the great horned-owl, were deserving of a surer aim of Merton's gun. They prey not only upon useful game, but also invade the poultry-yard, the horned species being especially destructive. Instances were given in which these freebooters had killed every chicken upon a farm. As they hunt only at night, they are hard to capture. Their notes and natures are said to be in keeping with their dark deeds; for their cry is wild, harsh, and unearthly, while in temper they are cowardly, savage, and untamable.

"The moral of this owl episode," I concluded, "is that we must learn to know our neighbors, be they birds, beasts or human beings, before we judge them. This book is not only full of knowledge, but of information that is practical and useful. I move that we read up about the creatures in our vicinity. Would n't it be well, Merton, to learn what to shoot as well as how to shoot?"

Protecting his hands with buckskin gloves, the boy applied mutton suet to our wounded owl's wing. It was eventually healed, and the bird was given its liberty. It gradually became sprightly and tame, and sociable in the evening, and afforded the children and Junior much amusement.

By the seventh of April there was a prospect of warmer and more settled weather, and Mr. Jones told us to lose no time in uncovering our Antwerp raspberries. They had been bent down close to the ground the previous winter and covered with earth. To remove this, without breaking the canes, required careful and skillful work. We soon acquired the knack, however, of pushing and throwing aside the soil, then lifting the canes gently through what remained and shaking them clear. "Be careful to level the ground evenly," said Jones, "for it wont do at all to leave hummocks of dirt around the hills." And we followed his instructions.

The canes were left until a heavy shower of rain washed them clean; then Winnie and Bobsey tied

them up. We gave steady and careful attention to the Antwerps, since they would be our main dependence for income. I also raked in a liberal dressing of wood ashes around the hills of one row through the field, intending to note its effect.

Hitherto the Sundays had been stormy and the roads bad, and we had given the days to rest and family sociability. But, at last, there came a mild, sunny morning, and we resolved to find a church-home. I had heard that Dr. Lyman, who preached in the nearest village, had the faculty of keeping young people awake. Accordingly we harnessed the old bay horse to our market-wagon, donned our 66 go-to-meetin's," as Junior called his Sunday clothes, and started. Whatever might be

the result of the ser

mon, the drive prom

SO

ised to do us good. The tender young grass by the roadside, and the swelling buds of trees, gave forth delicious odors; a spring haze softened the outline of the mountains, and made them almost as beautiful as if clothed with foliage; robins, song-sparrows, and other birds were tuneful that Mousie said she wished they might form the choir at the church. Indeed, the glad spirit of Spring was abroad, and it found its way into our hearts. We soon learned that it entered largely also into Dr. Lyman's sermon. We were not treated as strangers and intruders, but welcomed and shown to a pew in a way that made us at home. I discovered that I, too, would be kept awake and given much to think about. We remained until

wood-lot and the banks of the Moodna Creek. My wife had never seen this portion of our place before, and she was delighted with its wild beauty and seclusion.

Junior soon joined us, and led the children to a sunny bank, from which soon came shouts of joy over the first wild-flowers of the season. I seated my wife on a rock, and we sat there quietly for a time, in

Sunday-school, which followed the service, was over, and then went home, feeling that life, both here and hereafter, was something to be thankful for. After dinner, without even taking the precaution of locking the door, we all strolled down the lane and the steeply sloping meadow to our

haling the fresh woody odors, and listening to the murmurs

of the creek and the song of the birds. Then I asked:

"Isn't this better than a city flat and a noisy street? Are not these birds pleasanter neighbors than the Daggetts and the Ricketts?"

Her glad smile was more eloquent than words could have been. Mousie came running to us, holding in her hand, which trembled from excitement, a little bunch of liverworts and anemones. Tears of happiness actually stood in her eyes, and she could only falter: "Oh, Mamma! just look!" And then she hastened away to gather

"That child belongs to nature," I said, "and she would always be an exile in the city. How greatly she has improved in health already!" The air grew damp and chill early, and we soon returned to the house. Monday, another fair day, found us again absorbed in our busy life, each one having good work to do. After it was safe to uncover the raspberries, Merton and I had not lost a moment

in the task. At the time of which I write, we put in stakes where they were missing, obtaining not a few of them from the wood-lot. We also made our second planting of potatoes and other hardy vegetables in the garden. The plants in the kitchen window were thriving, and during mild, still days we carried them to a sheltered place without, that they might become hardier and inured to the open air. Winnie already had three hens sitting on their nests full of eggs, and she was counting the days until the three weeks should expire, when the little chicks would break their shells. One of the hens proved a fickle biddy, and left her nest, much to the child's anger and disgust. But the others were faithful, and one morning Winnie came bounding in, saying she had heard the first "peep." I told her to be patient and leave the brood until the following day, since I had read that the chicks were all stronger for not being taken from the nest too soon. She had treated the mother hens so kindly that they were tame, and permitted her to throw out the empty shells, and exult over each new-comer into its short-lived existence.

Our radishes had come up nicely; but no sooner had the first green leaves expanded than myriads of little flea-like beetles devoured them. A timely article in my horticultural paper explained that if little chickens were allowed to run in the garden they would soon destroy these and other insects. Accordingly, I improvised a coop by laying down a barrel near the radishes and by driving stakes in front of it to imprison the hen, which otherwise, with the best intentions, would have scratched up all my sprouting seeds. Hither we brought her the following day, with her downy brood of twelve, and they soon began to make themselves useful. Winnie fed them with Indian-meal and mashed potatoes, and watched over them with more than their mother's solicitude, while Merton renewed his vigilance against hawks and other enemies.

With the chicks to watch, and wild-flowers to gather, the tying up of raspberries became weary prose to Winnie and Bobsey; but I kept them at it during most of the forenoon of every pleasant day, and if they performed their task carelessly, I made them do it over. I knew that the time was coming when many kinds of work would cease to be play, to us all, and that we might as well face the fact first as last. After the morning duties were over and the afternoon lessons learned, there was plenty of time for play, and the two little people enjoyed it all the more.

Merton, also, had two afternoons in the week, and he and Junior began to bring home strings of little sunfish and winfish. Boys often become disgusted with country life because it is made hard and monotonous for them.

From the first, I had often thought that strawberries should form one of our chief crops. They promised well for several reasons, the main one being that they would afford a light and useful form of labor for all the children. Even Bobsey could pick the fruit almost as well as any of us, for he had no long back to ache in getting down to it. The crop, also, could be gathered and sold before the raspberry season began, and this was an important fact. We would also have another and earlier source of income. I had read a great deal about the cultivation of the strawberry, and I had visited a Maizeville neighbor who grew them on a large scale, and had obtained his views. To make my knowledge more complete, I wrote to my Washington Market friend, Mr. Bogart, and his prompt letter in reply was encouraging.

"Don't go into too many kinds," he advised; "and don't set too much ground. A few crates of fine berries will pay you better than bushels of small, soft, worthless trash. Steer clear of high-priced novelties and fancy sorts, and begin with only those known to pay well in your region. Try Wilsons (they 're good to sell, if not to eat) and Duchess for early, and the Sharpless and Champion for late. Set the last two kinds out side by side, for the Champions wont bear alone. tomer of mine cultivates only these four sorts. gives them high culture, and gets big crops and big berries, which pay big money. When you want crates, I can furnish them, and take my pay out of the sales of your fruit. Don't spend much money for plants. Buy a few of each kind, and set them in moist ground and let them run. By winter you will have enough plants to cover your farm."

A cus

He

I found that I could buy these standard varieties in the vicinity; and having made the lower part of the garden very rich, I procured, one cloudy day, two hundred plants of each kind and set them in rows, six feet apart, so that by a little watchfulness I could keep them separate. I obtained my whole stock for five dollars; therefore, even counting the value of time and everything, the cost of entering on strawberry culture was very slight indeed. A rainy night followed, and every plant started vigorously.

In spite of occasional frosts and cold rains, the days grew longer and warmer.

I proposed to extend my fruit area gradually, fearing, with good reason, that much hired help would leave small profits.

That very afternoon Mr. Jones, with his sharp steel plow, began turning over clean, deep, even furrows, for we had selected a plot for corn and potatoes, in view of the fact that it was not stony, as was the case with other portions of our little farm. When, at last, the ground was plowed, he

said: "We'd better get the potato ground ready and the rows furrowed out right off. Early plantin' is the best. How much will ye give to 'em?" ** Half the plot,” I said.

lift our toilsome lives above the coarse and sordid phase too common in country homes.

In early May the grass was growing lush and strong, and Brindle was driven down the lane to

"Well, I've a plan about that. I think I can put Early Rose potatoes in now, and harvest them in July or early August; and then, if the books are right, I can set strong plants on enriched ground early in August and get a good crop next June. I shall have my young plants growing right here in my own garden. Merton and I can take them up in the cool of the evening and in wet weather, and they wont know they 've been moved. I propose to get these early potatoes out of the ground as soon as possible, even if I have to sell part of them before they are fully ripe; then have the ground plowed deep and marked out for strawberries, put all the fertilizers I can scrape together in the rows, and set the plants as fast as possible. I've read again and again that many growers regard this method as one of the best."

Planting an acre of potatoes was no slight task for us, even after the ground was plowed and harrowed, and the furrows for the rows were marked out. I also had to make a half day's journey to the city of Newtown to buy more seed. But for a few days we worked like beavers. Even Winnie helped Merton to drop the seed; and in the evening we had regular potato-cutting "bees," Junior coming over to aid us, and my wife and Mousie helping too. Songs and stories enlivened these evening hours of labor. Indeed, my wife and Mousie performed, during the day, a large part of this task, and they soon learned to cut the tubers skillfully. I have since known this work to be done so carelessly that some pieces were cut without a single eye upon them. Of course, in such cases there is

nothing to grow.

One Saturday night, the last of April, we exulted over the fact that our acre was planted and the seed well covered.

Many of the trees about the house, meanwhile, had clothed themselves with fragrant promises of fruit. All, especially Mousie, had been observant of the beautiful changes, and, busy as we had been, she, Winnie, and Bobsey had been given time to keep our table well supplied with wild flowers. Now that they had come in abundance, they seemed as essential as our daily food. To a limited extent I permitted blooming sprays to be taken from the fruit-trees, thinking, with Mousie, that cherry blossoms were "almost as sweet as cherries." Thus Nature graced our frugal board, and suggested that, as she accompanied her useful work with beauty and fragrance, so we also could

With the first days of the month we planted, on a part of the garden slope, where the soil was dry and warm, very early, dwarf sweet corn, a second early variety, Burr's Mammoth, and Stowell's Evergreen.

"When this planting is up a few inches high," I said, "we will make another; for, by so doing, my garden-book says, we may have this delicious vegetable till frost comes."

After reading and some inquiry during the winter I had decided to buy only McLean's gem peas for seed. This low-growing kind required no brush and, therefore, far less labor. We also planted early dwarf wax-beans, covering the seed, as directed, only two inches deep. It was my ambition to raise a large crop of Lima beans, having read that few vegetables yielded more food to a small area than they. So, armed with an axe and hatchet, Merton and I went into some young growth on the edge of our wood-lot and cut thirty poles, lopping off the branches so as to leave little crotches on which the vines could rest as a support. Having sharpened these poles we set them firmly in the garden. My book said that, if the earth were cold, wet, or heavy, the beans would decay instead of coming up. The tenth of the month being fine and promising, I pressed the eye or germ side of the beans into the soil and covered them only one inch deep. In the evening we set out our cabbage and cauliflower plants where they should be allowed to mature. The tomato plants, which were more tender than their other companions, had been started in the kitchen window, and I set them out about four inches apart in a sheltered place. We could thus cover them at night and protect them a little from the midday sun for a week or two longer.

Nor were Mousie's flowering-plants forgotten. She had watched over them from the seed with tireless care, and now we made a bed and helped the happy child to put her beloved little nurslings in the open ground where they were to bloom.

The next morning Merton and I began our great undertaking — the planting of the other acre of ground, next to the potatoes, with field corn. Mr. Jones had harrowed it comparatively smooth. I had a light plow with which to mark out the furrows four feet apart each way. At the intersection of these furrows the seed was to be dropped.

We kept to work manfully, although the day was warm, and by noon the plot was furrowed one