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After estimating the cost of making cattle manure, and calculating as closely as possible the cost of obtaining and applying jungle top soil from land adjacent to the plantation, it was found that in the case of the best sample of top soil, obtained by removing only four or five inches of the soil, it paid nearly twice as well to use it as a manurial agent as it would to use cattle manure, and I may add that three tons of the soil contain the same manurial matter as two tons of ordinary well-made English farmyard manure.
With another took at the trampled rows of corn he went into the house, taking the lantern with him, and shutting the door after him. It seemed darker than ever in the farmyard with the light gone, and the rain was coming down in torrents. "Nice prospect!" murmured George. "What are we going to do?" asked Bert. "He's the man with the original grouch all right," contributed Jack. "Where'll we go?"
She heard Prudence's voice raised in angry protest, and, instead of entering the house, she discreetly withdrew, passing round to the farmyard instead. In the kitchen a stormy scene was being enacted. Prudence was standing just inside the door. Her mother was beside a long table on which were laid out the necessaries for pastry-making.
Trenholme stood in the farmyard. The light of a lantern made a little flare about the stable door. The black, huge barns, around seemed to his weary sense oppressive in their nearness. The waggon disappeared down the dark lane. The farmer talked more roughly, now that kindness no longer restrained him, of the night's event. Trenholme leaned against a white-washed wall, silent but not listening.
They verified their instructions from a boy who was standing in the farmyard, whittling a stick, and trudged away over a stubble field and through a turnstile gate. It was quite pretty along the path by the river. There was a tall hedge where hips and haws showed red, and a grassy border where a few wild flowers still bloomed.
He could make out Sabine's little girl, he could see her running, he could mark her laughter. Once he lay in wait for her near the gate of the farmyard, in a turn of the sunk road made by the walls: he seized her as she passed and kissed her. The child was afraid and began, to cry. She had almost forgotten him already. He asked her: "Are you happy here?" "Yes. It is fun...."
Speak about everything else; but if this keeps on there will be trouble!" Meanwhile the foundations of social life are being slowly undermined; and many of the upper circles of life have putrefied until they have no more power to rot. If a fox or a mink come down to the farmyard and carry off a chicken, the whole family join in the search.
Then all at once Abbe Mouret remembered: The fever had struck him in Desiree's farmyard, while he was looking at the hens still warm from laying, the rabbit-does plucking the down from under them. And now the feeling that some one was breathing on his neck became so distinct that he turned at last to see who was behind him.
These nocturnal absences naturally attracted attention and set people talking. At the same time, by a curious coincidence, a wolf used to prowl round the farm every night and to excite the dogs in the farmyard to fury by thrusting his snout derisively through the cat's hole in the great gate. The farmer had his suspicions and he determined to watch.
There were only the marks of many feet in the soft earth of the farmyard, an empty pigpen, and a few chicken feathers blowing about the hen house, to show where the invaders had been and what they had carried away with them. Jan and Marie, followed by Fidel, ran through the house.
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