"H'm!" sniffed his grandmother. "I'm certainly glad you like it, and I hope you'll like her as well--it will help to make the work seem easier to you." "Why, there's grandfather and Uncle Joe now," said Bob a moment later, as he glanced through the kitchen window toward the barn, and catching up his cap he rushed out to greet them. Joe Williams was a typical farmer, tall, deep-chested and straight as an arrow. He stood six feet in his stockings and weighed two hundred and ten pounds, and could toss a barrel of salt on the tailboard of a wagon without losing his happy smile. He was twenty-seven years old, and there was not a farmer in the county who could beat him at feats of strength or endurance, and few indeed who could keep pace with him. He had black hair and blue eyes. Books had little attraction for him-- he loved to be in the open, for which his great size and strength seemed to fit him. He had received little education beyond the country school, unless could be counted the two years he had spent working on farms in the great West, where he probably would have stayed had it not been for the brown eyes of Bettie Atwood and an offer from his father, now old and failing in health, to sell him the old place at his own terms. "Hello, Bob!" he called as his nephew came forward, "sorry we missed you. The bus driver said you'd left on foot for the farm when you didn't see us around. How've you been lately?" "Oh, I'm all right," replied Bob. "Hello, grandfather!" he called, as he went round to the side of the wagon to greet his grandfather. "You don't seem to grow much, Bob," he laughed, as he shook hands. "Cooped up too much in that grocery store--you need the open air of the country to stretch you out. Just look at your Uncle Joe there--see what the country has done for him." "Oh, I'll grow all right, grandfather. I like the country and the open-air life, too, and father says I may take up farming work if I want to." The team was soon put away, and shortly after supper Bob, too sleepy to keep his eyes open, went to bed. II A DAY'S WORK "Bob! Bob! Time to get up and do your chores." The sleepy boy rolled over, rubbed his eyes and sat up, trying to remember where he was and who was calling him; then he recognized the voice of his uncle, and jumped quickly out of bed. "All right, Uncle Joe, I'm coming," he answered, as he felt around in the dark for his clothes, for he had neglected to provide himself with matches to light the oil lamp that stood near by on the dresser. His clothes were simple, and getting up before dawn was no new experience for him. A few moments later he hurried down to the kitchen, where his uncle, who had just finished stirring the kitchen fire, was filling the tea-kettle. "Well!--are you up for all day, Bob?" he inquired cheerily. "I will be as soon as I get awake," he answered, as he started for the rain barrel for water to wash.