"Drain the pond and plant it in corn," repeated Bob. "You won't have to wait till you sell the corn, either, to get the money." "How's that?" asked his uncle, interested in spite of himself. "Well, all I can tell you is to do it and the First National Bank will make the loan." "Whoever heard of such a thing as planting corn in an old mill pond," scoffed his uncle. "I did," replied Bob smiling. "Who told you?" demanded his uncle, looking him over from head to foot, for Bob with his ideas was getting to be more and more of a puzzle to him every day as he upset the long-established farm traditions. "The president of the bank himself," declared Bob. "At least I overheard him tell another man that he would." "You overheard John White, president of the First National Bank, discussing with someone else that I wanted to borrow a thousand dollars? I don't believe it. John White wouldn't discuss my affairs with anyone, especially when boys are standing around listening," vehemently declared his uncle. "I wasn't standing around listening," said Bob blushing. "I was fishing in the pond yesterday and I sat in the mill to get out of the rain. I was fishing in the forebay, and they came in the mill to wait until the rain was over and sat down and talked." "What! They talked about me?" demanded his uncle. "They talked about you and grandfather and all the other farmers around here. Said you farmers never used your heads and let your farms run down, when all you had to do was to show him you had some 'git up and git' and you could have all the money you wanted." "Well, if that's so, then why didn't he give it to me when I asked him?" demanded his uncle. "That was because he was disappointed in you. You've not yet shown any 'git up and git,'" replied Bob. "What do you mean by 'git up and git'?" asked his uncle. "Why, things like draining the pond and making it raise corn instead of letting it lie there a waste; building a new road up to the barn that won't be so steep you can't haul a load up or down; building new wire fences with concrete posts and a new barn with silos, and--" "Stop!" shouted his enraged uncle. "You're only talking to hear yourself, Bob, and I'm not sure but you're talking to make fun of me. I've a good notion to get a buggy whip and whale you for such impertinence," he declared, his anger suddenly getting the better of him. "No 'git up and git'! You know yourself I work from before daylight until long after dark as it is. What does he expect me to do?" "Just work from six o'clock in the morning until six at night, then you can spend the rest of the time planning how to improve the farm." "Did he say that, Bob?" demanded his uncle, looking down at the ground.