It was then that I became aware how dependent I was upon my wife's judgment and how much I distrusted my own. Like a caged bird unwittingly made free, I felt bewildered and forsaken and vainly tried to be restored to favor. I am amenable to reason, to flattery, or to anything else that helps to make life pleasant and more worth living; not so with Marion. It is hopeless to attempt to change her purpose by external influences, and I soon gave up the thankless task of trying to extract an opinion from her that she was bound to keep to herself. It was while I was still in a state of mental bewilderment over her behavior that Peter Waydean came forward with what appeared to be a most reasonable proposition. While I had been puzzling over what I should do with the farm, it appeared that he, by a curious coincidence, was in a similar state of indecision about what he should do without it. He hadn't realized, he said, when he sold the place to Mr. Fairman, how attached he was to the old homestead or how bereft of occupation he would feel when he no longer cultivated the land that he had cropped for half a century. He could scarcely make me understand how gratified he was that I, and not a stranger, was now the owner; indeed, the idea had occurred to him that, considering our friendly relations as neighbors, we might make an arrangement, to our mutual advantage--ahem!--to work the land on shares. I had but a vague idea of what working land on shares meant, and I had to ask him to explain the term. Instead of giving me a precise definition, he began by pointing out that if I worked the farm myself I would have the expense of keeping a hired man all the year round, as well as extra hands in the busy season; I would have a continued outlay for farm-stock, implements, feed and sundries. On the other hand, if we worked the land on shares, he would be willing to do all the work himself and provide everything necessary, if I were willing to pay him the three hundred dollars that it would cost me to keep a hired man. "And the produce?" I asked warily, though I felt inclined to agree on the spot. Peter rubbed his chin thoughtfully before he spoke. "I was going to say that we might share and share alike, but I'm ready to do more than that," with an expansive smile. "You see, as I told you once before, taking one year with another, farming don't pay, and you might have to share two years' losses against one year's profits." He paused for a moment, and I nodded knowingly. "Now," he continued, "I'll take the hull darned crop myself, and if it don't pay expenses you don't lose, but if there is any profit once in a while, I'll have something for horse and cow feed."