“Well, Sir,” she said, “you are welcome to this whole farm for ten thousand dollars.”

“I am not wishing for it,” he answered.  “In fact I would not take this farm as a gift, if I were obliged to keep it and pay the taxes and had no other property or source of income.”

“That’s just the kind of talk I’ve been putting up to these girls,” said Mr. Thornton.  “By the time we live and pay about two hundred dollars a year taxes on all this land, I tell you, there is nothing left; and we’d been worse off than we are, except for the sale we made to the railroad company.”

“Well, the Russells lived here very well for more than a hundred years,” she retorted, “and my grandfather supported one nigger for every ten acres of the farm, but I would like to know any farmers about here who can put thirty dollars an acre, or even ten dollars an acre, back into their soil for improvement.”

“The problem is indeed a serious one,” said Percy.  “Unquestionably much of the land in these older states is far past the point of possible self-redemption under the present ownership.  Land from which the fertility has been removed by two hundred years of cropping, until it has ceased to return a living to those who till it, cannot have its fertility restored sufficiently to again make its cultivation profitable, except by making some considerable investment in order to replace those essential elements the supply of which has become so limited as to limit the crop yields to a point where their value is below the cost of production.  Even on the remaining productive lands in the North Central States, if we are ever to adopt systems of permanent agriculture, it must be done while the landowners are still prosperous.  If the people of the corn belt repeat the history of the Eastern States until their lands cease to return a profit above the total cost of production, then they, too, will have nothing left to invest in the improvement of their lands.”

“But their fertility could still be restored by outside capital?” suggested Mr. Thornton.  “I know very well that is the only solution of our problem.”

“Well, Tom, I would like to know where the outside capital is coming from,” said Miss Russell.

“Marry rich,” he replied.  “Don’t make such a blunder as your sister did.”

“I fear that Mr. Johnston will suggest that we sell some more land,” remarked Mrs. Thornton.

“All right,” replied her sister; “and we will sell it to him.  If he won’t take the whole farm as a gift, we’ll cut it to any length he wishes.  Do you consider ‘Ten Acres Enough,’ Mr. Johnston; or would you prefer ‘Three Acres and Liberty?’ We’ll do our best to enable you to enjoy ‘The Fat of the Land.’  Just tell us how large a farm you want, I know already that you do not want nine hundred acres.”

“My dear Miss Russell,” said Percy.  “This is so sudden”; whereupon Mr. Thornton nearly fell from his chair and Mrs. Thornton laughed heartily at the sister’s expense who blushed as she might have done twenty years before.