"My darling boy," she continued, "it leads to nothing. This little farm is poorer to-day than it was when your dear father and I came here to live and labor. To be sure, the lower field still grows as good or better crops than ever; but I can remember when that field was so wet and swampy that it could not be cultivated, and it was in the work of ditching and tiling that field," she sobbed, "that your father took the sickness that caused his death." Tears were in Percy's eyes as he put his arm about his mother and wiped her tears away. "But I must tell you what I know to be the truth," she went on quickly. "The older fields that your grandfather cultivated are less productive now than when he received them from our generous government. Indeed, it was your father's plan to continue to farm here only for a few years longer until he could save enough to enable him, with what we could have gotten from the sale of our own forty, to go farther west and purchase a large farm of virgin soil. He realized, my Son, that even that part of his father's farm that was first put under cultivation was becoming distinctly reduced in productiveness. He remembered, too, the stories often repeated by your grandfather of the run-down condition of the once exceedingly fertile soils of the Mohawk Valley and other parts of New York State. "And you know, Percy, there were many Dutch farmers settled in New York. They were probably the best farmers among all who came to America from the Old World. I have heard your grandfather explain their use of crop rotation, and they understood well the value of clover and farm fertilizers. But with all of their skill and knowledge, the land grew poor, and now the very farm upon which Grandpa was born is not worth as much as the actual cost of the farm buildings. I hope you will consider all of this. The farm life is so unpromising for you, and there are such great opportunities for success in other lines. Still I feel that you must decide this question for yourself my Son, but tell me why you would choose the life and work of a farmer?" CHAPTER III LINCOLN S VIEW OF AGRICULTURE PERCY had listened without interrupting, grieved at her disappointment, and open to any reasoning that might change his mind. "Mother dearest," he said, "it was a year ago that you said I would have only till this fail to decide upon my college course and that it should be a special preparation for my life work. I have given much thought to it. You said that I should choose for myself, and I have not consulted much with others, but I have tried to consider the matter from different points of view. "You know the Christmas present you gave me of the Lincoln books?"