At breakfast, after our greetings and good wishes for the New Year, all looked expectantly at me as I opened our financial record.  Carefully and clearly as possible, so that even Winnie might understand in part, I went over the different items, and the expense and proceeds of the different crops, so far as I was able to separate them.  Bobsey’s attention soon wandered, for he had an abiding faith that breakfast, dinner, and supper would follow the sun, and that was enough for him.  But the other children were pleased with my confidence, and tried to understand me.

“To sum up everything,” I said, finally, “we have done, by working all together, what I alone should probably have accomplished in the city—­we have made our living.  I have also taken an inventory or an account of stock on hand and paid for; that is, I have here a list on which are named the horse, wagon, harness, cow, crates and baskets, tools, poultry, and pigs.  These things are paid for, and we are so much ahead.  Now, children, which is better, a living in the city, I earning it for you all? or a living in the country toward which even Bobsey can do his share?”

“A living in the country,” was the prompt chorus.  “There is something here for a fellow to do without being nagged by a policeman,” Merton added.

“Well, children, mamma and I agree with you.  What’s more, there wasn’t much chance for me to get ahead in the city, or earn a large salary.  Here, by pulling all together, there is almost a certainty of our earning more than a bare living, and of laying up something for a rainy day.  The chief item of profit from our farm, however, is not down in my account-book, but we see it in your sturdier forms and in Mousie’s red cheeks.  More than all, we believe that you are better and healthier at heart than you were a year ago.

“Now for the New Year.  Let us make the best and most of it, and ask God to help us.”

And so my simple history ends in glad content and hope.

THE END