Hidden Treasures | Page 2

TURTLES
VI. SELLING SAND
VII. THE NEW AUNT
VIII. THE SALE
IX. POWER AND BANKING
X. RUNNING WATER
XI. TONY
XII. THE DAIRY HOUSE
XIII. VISITORS

XIV. RUTH AND THE STRAW STACK
XV. NEW METHODS
XVI. RUTH AND JERRY
XVII. FILLING THE INCUBATOR
XVIII. THE NEW IMPLEMENTS
XIX. THE STORM
XX. GOOD ROADS
XXI. FILLING THE SILO
XXII. THE FAIR
XXIII. CHRISTMAS AT BROOKSIDE FARM
XXIV. COST ACCOUNTING

ILLUSTRATIONS

The Afternoon was Spent Examining the Buildings and Looking Over
the Plans for the New Barn
The Old Homestead
"Well, Son, Let's Get Down to Business. I See You're Wise All Right
to the Value of that Pit"
Bees are a Profitable Side Line
The Tractor Will do the Work of Five Men and Five Teams

Ditch Digging by Dynamite
One-Half the Herd
The Electric Milker
Comfortable Sanitary Stalls
Small, Self-Loading, Kerosene Driven, Concrete Mixers
Every Boy that Ran Away from the Farm and Many that are Still There
can Tell of the Days Wasted on Repairs to Wooden Fences and
Cleaning Out Fence Rows
Extra Profits are not the Only Things a Farmer Gets from a Herd of
Well Bred Dairy Cows
Good Seed Well Planted Lays the Foundation for a Profitable Crop
A Well-Managed Flock of Poultry Will Return Good Profits
The Side Delivery Rake Fluffs up the Hay and Lets the Sun do Its
Work Quickly
The Self-Loader Makes Possible the Quick Storage of Properly Cured
Hay and Saves Tons of Man-Lifting Power
The Electric-Driven Laundry
Well-Built Concrete Roads Bring the Markets and Your Neighbors
Nearer
Transferring the Green Corn Crop from Field to Silo

I.
THE OLD HOMESTEAD

The late afternoon sun shone full upon a boy who was perched on the
top of an old rail fence forming the dividing line between the farm that
spread out before him and the one over which he had just passed.
It was early March. The keen wind as it whirled past him, whipping the
branches of the tree together and carrying away clouds of dried leaves
from behind the fence rows, penetrated the thin clothes he wore--but
instead of making him shiver, it seemed only to add to his pleasure, for
he removed his cap and ran his fingers through his damp hair.
The boy was slender and scarcely looked the eighteen years to which
he laid claim. He had curly sandy hair, a freckled face and penetrating
blue eyes. His clothes were new, but of rather poor material and ill-
fitting, scarcely protecting him from the cutting wind. Because of his
short legs and arms, his coat sleeves and trousers, cut for the average
boy, were too long for him and were much wrinkled.
He had climbed the last and steepest hill lying between the town and
his grandfather's farm--the ancestral home of the Williams family,
which was now, for a time at least, to be his home. Since early morning
he had bumped over the rough frozen roads between his home in a
distant village and the county seat, which was situated some two miles
to the west, and from which he had just walked.
He had expected to find his grandfather or his Uncle Joe waiting for
him; in this he was disappointed, and as the sun was getting along
toward mid-afternoon, he had picked up his worn suitcase and set off
through the town by a route that he knew would bring him to a short-
cut over the hills.
Despite the wind, he sat for some minutes, cap in hand, while he looked
out over the familiar scenes. There was not one foot of ground in the
one hundred and sixty acre farm that spread out fan-shape before him
which was not familiar. Here he had spent many happy vacations in
summers past. The last two years he had attended the State College,
taking the course in agriculture, and had worked in a grocery store in
the village during the summer vacations, but this work had been
distasteful to him--he missed the freedom of outdoor life, especially the

birds and animals so plentiful on the farm. So this year, as his father
could not afford to have him complete the course, he had asked
permission to go on a farm. His two years in the State College had
opened his eyes to modern methods of farming and the use of Portland
cement for farm buildings, and he wanted a chance to try them out.
His father had hesitated at first in giving his consent, not because he did
not wish him to be in the open country, but because he felt, now that he
had reached the age of eighteen, he should be able to earn money and
direct his attention toward permanent employment, and he could not
think of farming as a business