“Oh, it’s a trick of mine; I caught it of Father when I was a little thing, and do it without knowing it half the time,” said Becky, sinking down upon a mossy rock, as if rest were welcome.

“Why did he do it?” asked Emily, who knew that her friend loved to talk of her father.

“Well, it’s a family failing I guess, for his father did the same, only he began with his farm and let the roads alone.  The land used to be pretty much all rocks up here, you know, and farmers had to clear the ground if they wanted crops.  It was a hard fight, and took a sight of time and patience to grub out roots and blast rocks and pick up stones that seemed to grow faster than anything else.  But they kept on, and now see!”

As she spoke, Becky pointed proudly to the wide, smooth fields lying before them, newly shorn of grass or grain, waving with corn, or rich in garden crops ripening for winter stores.  Here and there were rocky strips unreclaimed, as if to show what had been done; and massive stone walls surrounded pasture, field, and garden.

“A good lesson in patience and perseverance, my dear, and does great honor to the men who made the wilderness blossom like the rose,” said Mrs. Spenser.

“Then you can’t wonder that they loved it and we want to keep it.  I guess it would break Mother’s heart to sell this place, and we are all working as hard as ever we can to pay off the mortgage.  Then we’ll be just the happiest family in New Hampshire,” said Becky, fondly surveying the old farm-house, the rocky hill, and the precious fields won from the forest.

“You never need fear to lose it; we will see to that if you will let us,” began Mrs. Spenser, who was both a rich and a generous woman.

“Oh, thank you! but we won’t need help I guess; and if we should, Mrs. Taylor made us promise to come to her,” cried Becky.  “She found us just in our hardest time, and wanted to fix things then; but we are proud in our way, and Mother said she’d rather work it off if she could.  Then what did that dear lady do but talk to the folks round here, and show ’em how a branch railroad down to Peeksville would increase the value of the land, and how good this valley would be for strawberries and asparagus and garden truck if we could only get it to market.  Some of the rich men took up the plan, and we hope it will be done this fall.  It will be the making of us, for our land is first-rate for small crops, and the children can help at that, and with a deepot close by it would be such easy work.  That’s what I call helping folks to help themselves.  Won’t it be grand?”

Becky looked so enthusiastic that Emily could not remain uninterested, though market-gardening did not sound very romantic.

“I hope it will come, and next year we shall see you all hard at it.  What a good woman Mrs. Taylor is!”