mer, when he could enjoy the sightliness of it, and see me working over there on my farm, while he smoked on his front porch." He turned round and looked at the old house, in silence a moment. Then, as he went on, his voice lost its angry ring. "The folks here bought this place from the Indians, and they'd been here more than two hundred years. Do you think they left it because they were too lazy to run it, or couldn't get pianos and buggies out of it, or were such fools as not to know whether they were well off? It was their home; they were born, and lived and died here. There is the family burying ground, over there."
Neither Mrs, Makely nor myself was ready with a reply, and we left the word with the Altrurian, who suggested, "Still, I suppose they will be more prosperous in the west, on the new land they take up?"
The young fellow leaned his arms on the wheel by which he stood. "What do you mean by taking up new land?"
"Why, out of the public domain"—
"There ain't any public domain that's worth having. All the good land is in the hands of railroads, and farm syndicates, and speculators; and if you want
