to have had unhappy experiences in country life--quite different from
those of a friend of mine who owns a farm. He doesn't have to run for
trains; he is independent of plumbers, because the only pipes in his
house are for smoking purposes. The farm produces corn enough to keep
his family supplied all the year round and to sell a balance at a
profit. Oats and wheat are harvested to an extent which keeps the cattle
and declares dividends besides. He never suffers from the cold or heat.
He is never afraid of losing his house or barns by fire, because the
whole fire department of the neighboring village is, to a man, in love
with the house-keeper's daughter, and is always on hand in force. The
chickens are the envy and pride of the county, and there are so many of
them that they have to take turns in going to roost. The pigs are the
most intelligent of their kind, and are so happy they never grunt. In
fact, everything is lovely and cheap, the only thing that hangs high
being the goose."

[Illustration: "'THE GLADSOME CLICK OF THE LAWN-MOWER'"]

"Quite an ideal, no doubt," put in the School-master, scornfully. "I
suppose his is one of those model farms with steam-pipes under the walks
to melt the snow in winter, and of course there is a vein of coal
growing right up into his furnace ready to be lit."

"Yes," observed the Bibliomaniac; "and no doubt the chickens lay eggs in
every style--poached, fried, scrambled, and boiled. The weeds in the
garden grow so fast, I suppose, that they pull themselves up by the
roots; and if there is anything left undone at the end of the day I
presume tramps in dress suits, and courtly in manner, spring out of the
ground and finish up for him."