Hiram The Young Farmer | Page 3

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HIRAM THE YOUNG FARMER
BY BURBANK L. TODD

CONTENTS
I THE CALL OF SPRING II AT MRS. ATTERSONS III A DREARY

DAY IV THE LOST CARD V THE COMMOTION AT MOTHER
ATTERSONS VI THIS DIDN'T GET BY HIRAM VII HOW HIRAM
LEFT TOWM VIII THE LURE OF GREEN FIELDS IX THE
BARGAIN IS MADE X THE SOUND OF BEATING HOOFS XI A
GIRL RIDES INTO THE TALE XII SOMETHING ABOUT A
PASTURE FENCE XIII THE UPROOTING XIV GETTING IN THE
EARLY CROPS XV TROUBLE BREWS XVI ONE SATURDAY
AFTERNOON XVII MR. PEPPER APPEARS XVIII A HEAVY
CLOUD XIX THE REASON WHY XX AN ENEMY IN THE DARK
XXI THE WELCOME TEMPEST XXII FIRST FRUITS XXIII
TOMATOES AND TROUBLE XXIV "CORN THAT'S CORN" XXV
THE BARBECUE XXVI SISTER'S TURKEYS XXVII RUN TO
EARTH XXIX HARVEST XXX ONE SNOWY MIDNIGHT XXXI
"MR. DAMOCLES'S SWORD" XXXII THE CLOUD IS LIFTED
XXXIII "CELERY MAD" XXXIV CLEANING UP A PROFIT
XXXV LOOKING AHEAD

CHAPTER I
THE CALL OF SPRING
"Well, after all, the country isn't such a bad place as some city folk
think."
The young fellow who said this stood upon the highest point of the
Ridge Road, where the land sloped abruptly to the valley in which lay
the small municipality of Crawberry on the one hand, while on the
other open fields and patches of woodland, in a huge green-and-brown
checkerboard pattern, fell more easily to the bank of the distant river.
Dotted here and there about the farming country lying before the youth
as he looked westward were cottages, or the more important-looking
homesteads on the larger farms; and in the distance a white church
spire behind the trees marked the tiny settlement of Blaine's Smithy.
A Sabbath calm lay over the fields and woods. It was mid-afternoon of
an early February Sunday--the time of the mid-winter thaw, that false

prophet of the real springtime.
Although not a furrow had been turned as yet in the fields, and the
snow lay deep in some fence corners and beneath the hedges, there was,
after all, a smell of fresh earth--a clean, live smell--that Hiram Strong
had missed all week down in Crawberry.
"I'm glad I came up here," he muttered, drawing in great breaths of the
clean air. "Just to look at the open fields, without any brick and mortar
around, makes a fellow feel fine!"
He stretched his arms above his head and, standing alone there on the
upland, felt bigger and better than he had in weeks.
For Hiram Strong was a country boy, born and bred, and the town
stifled him. Besides, he had begun to see that his two years in
Crawberry had been wasted.
"As a hustler after fortune in the city I am not a howling success,"
mused Hiram. "Somehow, I'm cramped down yonder," and he glanced
back at the squalid brick houses below him, the smoky roofs, and the
ugly factory chimneys.
"And I declare," he pursued, reflectively, "I don't believe I can stand
Old Dan Dwight much longer. Dan, Junior, is bad enough--when he is
around the store; but the boss would drive a fellow to death."
He shook