His hope was in the clover, but as the fall came on the red clover was found to have failed almost completely, and the alsike was one-half a stand.  As the red clover had been seeded on the unlimed strip there was no way of knowing whether the limestone had even benefited the alsike.  The neighbors had “seen just as good clover without putting on any of that stuff.”

There were no apples, but the spraying had cost as much as ever, and some team work had been hired.

Three years of the hardest work; limestone on two forties, but only twenty acres of poor clover on one and no wheat seeded on the other.  The neighbors “knew the clover would winter kill.”  The bills for pasturing amounted to as much as the butter had brought; for the twenty-eight-acre pasture had been very poor.  The feed for the cows for winter consisted of corn fodder, straw and poor hay, and not enough of that.

They had to do it—­draw $150 from the Winterbine reserve, besides what had been used for limestone.  Part of it must go for clover seed, for clover must be seeded before it could be grown.  The small barn must also be enlarged, but with the least possible expense.

It was February.  Wet snow, water, and almost bottomless mud covered the earth.  With four horses on the wagon, Percy had worked nearly all day bringing in two “jags” of poor hay from the stack in the field.  It was all the little mow would hold.

He had finished the chores late and came in with the milk.

“Put on some dry clothes and your new shoes,” said his mother, “while I strain the milk and take up the supper.  There is a letter on the table.  I hardly see how the mail man gets along through these roads.  They must be worse than George Rogers Clark found on his trip from Kaskaskia to Vincennes.  They say his route passed across only a few miles from the present site of Heart-of-Egypt.  I suppose the letter is from Mr. West.”

Percy finished washing his hands, and opened the letter.  Two cards fell to the table as he drew the letter from the envelope.

He picked up one of the cards, and read it aloud to his mother: 

Mr. and Mrs. Strongworth Barstow

__At home after March I, 1907

1422 College Avenue

Raleigh, N. C._

"With Grandma’s Compliments," was penciled across the top of the card.  Percy glanced at the other card and read the plain lines: 

Announce the marriage of their daughter

Did his eyes blurr?  He laid the one card over the other, scanned Mr. West’s letter hurriedly, replaced it with the cards in the envelope, and laid the letter at his mother’s plate.

Percy replaced his rubber boots with shoes, and his wet, heavy coat with a dry one.

“You remember the letter I had from the College?” he asked, as he took his seat at the table.

“Yes, I remember,” she replied, “but the Institute was to begin to-day.”