quit.

"Can't we oil or grease it up or do something to make it turn easier,
Uncle Joe?" he asked as he straightened up.

"Bah, who ever heard of oiling a grindstone?" answered his uncle,
throwing some water on the bearings, which caused a lot of rust to
work out at the ends.

"I guess you'd like to go fishing to-day, instead of working?" he
observed.

"No, Uncle Joe, I'm willing to work," replied Bob, "but you don't know
how hard this old stone turns."

"Oh, I don't, don't I?" said his uncle. "Well, I turned this stone,
Bob, before you were born, and your father turned it before me."

"And you never put any oil or grease on it all that time?" inquired
Bob.

"Of course not," said his uncle, "only elbow grease. We boys always
had enough of that to keep the stone running in those days," he
continued with a sarcastic smile.

"Well, there might have been an excuse in those days, Uncle Joe, for
using a hand-power grindstone, but there certainly is none in these
days, with water power, electricity and gasoline," he added, between
breaths, as he began tugging away again at the handle.