[Illustration]




MATALETTE'S SECTION.


"Nice place? I guess it is; ther hain't no such farm in _this_ part of
Illinoy, nor anywhere else that _I_ knows on. Two-story house, and
painted instead of being whitewashed; blinds on the winders; no
thirty-dollar horses in the barn, an' no old, unpainted wagons around;
no deadened trees standin' aroun' in the corn-lot or the
wheat-field--not a one. Good cribs to hold his corn, instead of leaving
it on the stalk, or tuckin' it away in holler sycamore logs, good pump
to h'ist his drinkin'-water with, good help to keep up with the
work--why, ther hain't a man on Matalette's whole place that don't look
smart enough to run a farm all alone by himself. And money--well, he
don't ask no credit of no man: he just hauls out his money and pays up,
as if he enjoyed gettin' rid of it. There's nobody like him in these
parts, you can just bet your life."

The speaker was a Southern Illinoisan of twenty-five years ago, and his
only auditor was a brother farmer.

Both worked hard and shook often (with ague) between the seed time and
harvest, but neither had succeeded in amassing such comfortable results
as had seemed to reward the efforts of their neighbor Matalette. For the
listener had not heard half the story of Matalette's advantages. He was
as good-natured, smart and hospitable as he was lucky. He indulged in