"What will we do with the little corner down by the pond, Bob?" asked his uncle that evening as they sat around the table for their daily conference. "I've a suggestion to make for that," said his wife. "Well, what is it, now?" asked her husband smiling. "Build a little cottage there for Tony and Maria. When we get through with our concrete work, Tony can then make fence posts, apiaries and other standard concrete sections at the pit and we can sell them; besides, he can keep account of all the sand and gravel that is taken away, and, of course, if he lives there, he'll always be on hand when we need him. You remember what John White said about other farmers putting up concrete buildings, and that each time they erected one we could sell them the materials. It will make Tony and Maria happy, and keep them where their services will be most available." "That's a good idea, Bettie," said her husband. "How much would such a house cost?" "I don't know, but I think we ought to make them comfortable in a house that would cost not much over $1000 to $1500. It should be of the bungalow type and will help to give our farm a very artistic look." "What were you and Maria doing down around the pond the other day?" asked her husband, suddenly remembering that he saw them there. "Oh, we were planting slips for willow trees. When they grow up, if we trim them, it will enhance the appearance very much." "Oh, that was it?" added her husband, winking at Bob. "I saw the young willow trees, but didn't know who planted them." "Now, you're only joking," said his wife. "You knew all the time what we were doing." "Fine idea, although I must confess I didn't quite understand at first what it was, but I see now: we're not only going to have prosperity at Brookside, but beauty as well," and coming over to the side of the table where she was sitting, he kissed her. "What are you and Ruth so busy at, Edith?" asked her uncle, looking across at them. "We've so many bulletins, Uncle Joe, that I am indexing and filing them on a shelf, so we can get them just when we want them," said Edith. "You see, information, unless it's used, is of no value, and if we don't arrange our information so it's easily available when we need it, it will be of little service to us." "I'm glad the old job's done," said Ruth, "for Edith has been making me write all the names and numbers in a book and it's been a terrible job, Uncle Joe--a good deal worse than running the concrete mixer."