it's nice, clean work."

"The dairy business on one dollar! How many cows and wagons and horses
was you figuring on buying with your dollar?"

"Don't git funny," warned Gus impatiently. "Some day I'll hev a farm of
my own and a city office, but I'll begin on one cow in our back lot and
peddle milk to the neighbors."

"That wouldn't be a bad beginning, but I reckon you'll find the start
will cost you more than a dollar. You can't get a cow at that figure."

"Then I'll start with a calf."

"Well, I guess calves cost more than a dollar."

"Say, you've got that dollar on the brain, I guess," retorted the lad
with the easy familiarity that betokened long acquaintance with the
lounging barrels and boxes of the corner grocery. "I bet it'll build a
shed in our back yard. Thar's the lumber out of our shed that blowed
down, and the Boarder can build purty near anything."

"But how are you going to buy a cow?" persisted his inquisitor.

"I ain't got that fer yet," admitted the young dairyman.

"Your dollar'll buy more than the nails for your cow-house. You can put
the balance into feed," said the grocer, with an eye to his own trade.

He wanted to add that it wouldn't cost much to feed an imaginary