as not to be slaves to long hours.  They were rich by work or by inheritance, and they gracefully accepted the otium cum dignitate which this condition permitted.  Social life was at its best in Exeter, and many of its people were old acquaintances of ours.  A noted country club spread its broad acres within two miles of our door, and I had been favorably posted for membership.  It did not look as though we should be thrust entirely upon our own resources in the country; but at the worst we had resources within our own walls and fences that would fend off all but the most violent attacks of ennui.

We were both keenly interested in the experiment.  Nothing that happened on the farm went unchallenged.  The milk product for the day was a thing of interest; the egg count could not go unnoted; a hatch of chickens must be seen before they left the incubator; a litter of new-born pigs must be admired; horses and cows were forever doing things which they should or should not do; men and maids had griefs and joys to share with mistress or Headman; flowers were blooming, trees were leafing, a robin had built in the black oak, a gopher was tunnelling the rose bed,—­a thousand things, full of interest, were happening every day.  As a place where things the most unexpected do happen, recommend me to a quiet farm.

But we were not to depend entirely upon outside things for diversion.  Books we had galore, and we both loved them.  Many a charming evening have I spent, sometimes alone, more often with two or three congenial friends, listening to Polly’s reading.  This is one of her most delightful accomplishments.  Her friends never tire of her voice, and her voice never tires of her friends.  We all grow lazy when she is about; but there are worse things than indolence.  No, we did not mean to drop out of anything worth while; but we were pretty well provisioned against a siege, if inclement weather or some other accident should lock us up at the farm.

To keep still better hold of the city, I suggested to Tom and Kate that they should keep open house for us, or any part of us, whenever we were inclined to take advantage of their hospitality.  This would give us city refuge after late functions of all sorts.  The plan has worked admirably.  I devote $1200 a year out of the $5200 of food-and-shelter money to the support of our city shelter at Kate’s house, and the balance, $4000, is entered at the end of each year on the credit side of the farm ledger.  Nor do I think this in any way unjust.  We do not expect to get things for nothing, and we do not wish to.  If the things we pay for now are as valuable as those we paid for six or eight years ago, we ought not to find fault with an equal price.  I have repeatedly polled the family on this question, and we all agree that we have lost nothing by the change, and that we have gained a great deal in several ways.  Our friends are of like opinion; and I am therefore justified in crediting Four Oaks with a considerable sum for food and shelter.  We have bettered our condition without foregoing anything, and without increasing our expenses.  That is enough.