county. And I'll tell you something more: Joe Williams hasn't waked up
to the fact that there's a railroad coming through about three miles
below his farm that will require thousands of yards of sand and gravel
for concrete bridges, and that this is the only sand and gravel pit
within a reasonable haul that's worth while. Why, do you know, Al, for
years and years they've been letting people drive in here and haul
away sand and gravel free of charge.

"You don't say!" exclaimed his friend.

"Yes, but speaking of concrete, Al, just think what a saving in
horseflesh a twenty-foot smooth concrete road all the way from here to
town would mean to these farmers--recent tests with a three-ton auto
truck show that while it could make only 3.6 miles per hour over dirt
roads, it could make twelve miles per hour over unsurfaced concrete
roads, which would represent in the United States a saving of nearly
two and one-half million dollars on auto-truck hauling alone, to say
nothing of horse-drawn vehicles--just think of it, Al. But there's
that old dirt road, same as it's been for years, hub deep with mud in
spring and winter, and so dusty in summer that there is no pleasure in
driving over it, and a dead loss in both time and money every time a
farmer drives over it."

"It's surely the roughest road I've ever traveled on, John," laughed
his friend, "and I've no doubt what you say is right. If farmers would
only take to using lead pencils and figure a little they would soon
discover where their losses are."

"You know the old way of repairing roads, Al. They dig the dirt out of
the gutters in the springtime and fill up the rut holes, and then the