“Well, you ortn’t to forget that Phil is city folks now, an---- I declare to gracious, I believe I forgot to tell you that Miss Dinon,--that splendid gal I told you about, that owns a lot of stock in the company,--Phil’s writ that like enough she’ll come down too. She an’ her mother want to pick a lot for a house for themselves before it’s too late for much of a choice.” “Well, I can’t understand it yet,” said Mrs. Hayn, carefully picking the lace edging of the cap into the proper _négligée_ effect. “It seems like a dream. Here’s me, that’s sometimes been almost a-dyin’ to get away from this farm an’ into the city, an’ there’s a whole passel of city folks goin’ to leave their palaces in New York an’ come down here to live on little pieces of our farm an’ other farms along the ridge. I tell you, I can’t understand it.” “Well,” said the farmer, picking some bits of oat chaff from his shirt-sleeve, “it ain’t always easy to understand city folks at first sight. Now, there’s that feller Marge. When I fust saw him in New York I wouldn’t have give him his salt for any work he’d do in the country. Yet now look at him! Them roads an’ drives through the company’s property wouldn’t have been half so near done if he hadn’t come down here an’ took hold to hurry things along for the spring trade. Why, some of them fellers that’s doin’ the work has worked for me on the farm, off an’ on, for years, an’ I thought I knowed how to get as much out of ’em as ther’ was in ’em; but, bless your soul, he manages ’em a good deal better.” “They do say he’s a master-hand at managin’,” Mrs. Hayn admitted, “an’ that it’s partly because he takes right hold himself, instead of standin’ round bossin’, like most city men.” “Takes hold? Why, he works as if he’d been brought up at it, which I’m certain sure he never was. You can’t see the fun of it, because you never saw him in New York. Why, if you could have seen him there you’d have thought that a gate-post with two pegs in the bottom of it would have had as much go as him. I’ve reelly took a likin’ to him. More’n once I’ve let him know that I wouldn’t mind if he’d leave the hotel in the village an’ put up with us, but somehow he didn’t seem to take to it.” “That’s strange, ain’t it?” said Mrs. Hayn, with a quizzical look that made her husband stare. “Oh!” said the old man, after a little reflection. “You’re growin’ dretful old an’ short-sighted, Reuben,” said Mrs. Hayn; and the farmer made haste to change the subject of conversation.