"Oh, that's been taken care of," said his uncle. "I told Bettie to go ahead and have it put in. I thought it would be nice to be able to call up our friends in town and talk to them on rainy days and Sundays when we didn't want to drive in. Besides, as you say, it will be useful at times to save trips." They spent the morning repairing the fences, which, under their persistent work, were beginning to look like real fences again. There was one thing about Joe Williams--whatever he did, he did thoroughly, and the undergrowth was cut from both sides, heaped into piles and burned. "Do you know, Uncle Joe, if we had wire fences, on concrete posts, we'd never have any work like this to do each spring. The plows would keep the sides clean. Think of what it would mean, Uncle Joe, to get rid of fence rows and repairing old rail fences. Then there's the wasted land that the fence takes up; that's a dead loss." "Yes, I can easily see that," replied his uncle. "Bettie was talking about that last night." They had worked all morning and were on their way to the house to dinner when they saw a man coming across the fields toward them. He came from the direction of the farm above, and as he approached they saw he was a youthful foreign-looking chap--probably an Italian and not more than twenty or twenty-one years old. He carried a bundle at the end of a stout stick thrown across his shoulder, and when he had gotten within speaking distance, he called: "Good-a morn! Do you need-a da mase or-a da carpendero to do-a da work?" "Oh, you're one of the plumber's men?" asked Bob, thinking perhaps his aunt might have asked to have some men sent out to work on the new cellar under the washroom where the hot-water heater was to go. "No, I no-a da plumb. I-a da mase and-a da carpendero." "Oh, you want a job?" asked Bob, catching his meaning. "Yes-a, da job, but no-a work-a da field. I no-a da farmer--I-a da mase and-a da carpendero." Bob exchanged glances with his uncle, who shook his head. "What's your name?" he asked, suddenly turning to the applicant. "Tony." "What do you say, Uncle Joe, if we have Tony go down to the house with us and talk the matter over with Aunt Bettie? He might be the man we could use at the sand pit. Besides," he added suddenly, "he might be the very fellow to help build the dairy house--if he understands both carpentry and mason work, he would be a big help." "How much will you work for?" asked Joe Williams, who hesitated at paying any money in wages. "How much-a da work to do?" asked Tony. "Oh, we've enough for a week or a month--maybe more--that's if you can do our work." "I understand-a da work," replied Tony, "and I like-a da live in-a da country, if you no-a make-a me sleep in-a da barn." "Where do you come from?" asked Bob. "From Italia. My fader, he-a da contracdisto and I learn-a da mase and-a da carpendero." "Well, why didn't you stay in Italy?" asked Bob.