“Terry’s problem was easier than Mr. West’s on his Virginia farm, where the soil is acid and hence limestone must be used liberally in order that clover and other legumes may be grown successfully.  Even the supply of phosphorus and other mineral elements is probably greater in Terry’s farm in northeastern Ohio than in the soil of Westover.

“Our problem is even more difficult, because we must not only increase the supply of active organic matter, although we have a reserve of old humus far above that contained in the Terry or West farms; but in addition we need more limestone than Mr. West and then we must add the phosphorus.  Of course the surface washing is a serious factor on Westover, but perhaps our tight clay subsoil is worse.

“But I learned at least two things that I shall try to profit by.  One of these was from Governor Hoard’s lecture on ’Cows Versus Cows, and the man behind the cow’; and the other is that we must do more work on the land.”

“Oh, Percy, I am so sorry you went.  How can you possibly do more work than you have been doing?”

“I may need to hire more,” he replied; “and, of course, that will further increase our expenses, but, it will surely pay to do well what we try to do.”

“When does my boy expect to get married?” she asked, softly, as she gently stroked his hair.

“I am married,” he replied.

She looked at him in wonder.

“Mother mine, I thought that you knew I was married.”

“Your face is blank sincerity, as usual,” she said smiling, “but you never deceive me with your voice.  Your voice reveals every attempt at deception.  Tell me what you mean.”

His voice was sincere now.  “I am married to a farm and laboring together with God.  After hearing Terry’s talk, I am more than ever determined to continue to do my part, working in the light as He gives me the power to see the light.”

“Percy, dear,” she asked, “did you know the bride whose wedding cards you received yesterday?”

“Don’t you remember what I told you of Adelaide West, Mr. West’s daughter?” he queried.

“I thought so,” said the mother.  She stepped to Percy’s home-made desk, and from one of the pigeon holes, drew out a bunch of letters, and selected the top and bottom letters from the pile.

“Here are the first and last letters you have received from Mr. West.  Did you ever see this?” She drew out a crumpled piece of paper and placed it in his hand.

"Her Grandma had not consented," he read.  “What does that mean?”

“I do not know and I did not know when I read it three years ago.  It came in your first letter from Mr. West.  I thought you had not found it in the envelope, but you gave me the letter to read and I found it.  I left it in the letter, but never till to-day did I feel that I ought to mention it to you.  Yesterday you received a letter with two cards; but you read only one of them to me.”