“David, did you ever know any one who treated a housekeeper as you say you would?” “No. And I never knew any one who raised medicinal stuff for a living, but I'm making a gilt-edged success of it, and I would of a housekeeper, too.” “It doesn't seem----” “That's the bedrock of all the trouble on the earth,” interrupted the Harvester. “We are a nation and a part of a world that spends our time on 'seeming.' Our whole outer crust is 'seeming.' When we get beneath the surface and strike the BEING, then we live as we are privileged by the Almighty. I don't think I give a tinker how anything SEEMS. What concerns me is how it IS. It doesn't 'seem' possible to you to hire a woman to come into your home and take charge of its cleanliness and the food you eat--the very foundation of life--and treat her as an honoured guest, and give her the best comfort you have to offer. The cold room, the old covers, the bare floor, and the cast off furniture are for her. No wonder, as a rule, she gives what she gets. She dignifies her labour in the same ratio that you do. Wait until we need a housekeeper, and then gaze with awe on the one I will raise to your hand.” “I wonder----” “Don't! It's wearing! Come tell me how to make our living-room less bare than it appears at present.” They went downstairs together, followed by the decorator, and began work on the room. The Girl was placed on a couch and made comfortable and then the Harvester looked around. “That bundle there, Rogers, is the curtains we bought for this room. If you and my wife think they are not right, we will not hang them.” The decorator opened the package and took out curtains of tan-coloured goods with a border of blue and brown. “Those are not expensive,” said the Harvester, “but to me a window appears bare with only a shade, so I thought we'd try these, and when they become soiled we'll burn them and buy some fresh ones.” “Good idea!” laughed the Girl. “As a house decorator you surpass yourself as a Medicine Man.” “Fix these as you did those upstairs,” ordered the Harvester. “We don't want any fol-de-rols. Put the bottom even with the sill and shear them off at the top.” “No, I am going to arrange these,” said the decorator, “you go on with your part.” “All right!” agreed the Harvester. “First, I'll lay the big rug.” He cleared the floor, spread a large rug with a rich brown centre and a wide blue border. Smaller ones of similar design and colour were placed before each of the doors leading from the room. “Now for the hearth,” said the Harvester, “I got this tan goat skin. Doesn't that look fairly well?” It certainly did; and the Girl and the decorator hastened to say so. The Harvester replaced the table and chairs, and then sat on the couch at the Girl's feet.