Expansion was the only true policy, and
the fates seemed to be against it. Outside of the meetings and in daily
life all seemed to be in harmony.
I had now lived more than two years at the farm. I, the pale city lad,
had grown brown under the sun's warm kisses. I fancy I was not rosy,
but the bright eyes and the clear complexion, free from speck or
blemish, gave the certain indications of health. I had tasted of the
actual farm work. I had planted beans, potatoes and melons. I had hoed
corn, and on my knees weeded, in the broiling sun, the young onions. I
had driven horse to plough, and side by side with others, trying to hoe
my row with them, disputed, discussed social questions and ideas, and
chaffed one another on our personal gifts and peculiarities while
working together in the different groups. I had not hewed wood, but I
had chopped brush. I had yoked and driven the oxen, and the first time
had a difficulty with them because I tried to yoke the off ox on the
nigh side; and when I graduated into the greenhouse group I learned all
the mysteries of the care of plants, potting, transplanting, making
leaf-mould and doing spade and rake work to perfection; and in the
laying out of beds and walks did a full share of shovel-work on the
sandy and gravelly soil, and drove the dump-cart.
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