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Updated: June 22, 2025
"Indeed, I don't believe there is, Farmer Hartley," replied Hilda, laughing merrily; "at least I never saw one like it. It is pretty, I think, and so comfortable! And where are you going this morning with the mammoths?" "Down to the ten-acre lot," replied the farmer. "The men are makin' hay thar to-day. Jump into the riggin' and come along," he added.
Still his mother said nothing, but kept that cringing face before a coming blow. "Father wa'n't on it," said Jerome. Still his mother waited. "I hitched the horse," said Jerome, "and then I went up to the ten-acre lot, and I looked everywhere. He ain't there." Suddenly Ann Edwards seemed to fall back upon herself before his eyes. Her head sank helplessly; she slipped low in her chair.
"I might take something less," he ventured to say, in a low, hesitating voice. "It is too late now," was Mr. Wilson's prompt reply. "Too late! How so?" "We have procured a lot." "Mr. Wilson!" Poor Smith started to his feet in chagrin and astonishment. "Yes; we have taken one of Jones's lots, on the west side of the city. A beautiful ten-acre lot." "You have!" Smith was actually pale.
"Thank you. Not for a ten-acre lot in Mohammed's Paradise would I mar Miss Muriel's happiness, or punish myself by a tête-
They gain knowledge enough to reckon with the hired man, to keep the tally of the marketing, to compute interest, and to do parish business. What more do they want? Your college-men will talk about selections and temperatures, silex and fluorine; but what has all that to do with planting the ten-acre lot? Timothy and red-top grew before Liebig was born.
"I'd just as soon tell you," she said, with a broken hardness, a composure struggled for and then lost. "I'd just as soon anybody would know it. I don't feel as if I'd any use for myself, now he don't prize me. Well, Sabrina, he don't want me any more." "You sure, dear?" asked Sabrina. "You better be sure." "We got talking about the land," said Clelia, in a high voice. "The ten-acre lot?" "Yes.
A ten-acre meadow appears like a boundless prairie, and a half-mile wide piece of woods an unbounded forest. On one side of the farm is a clear stream known as Ragged Brook, that, starting among the foothills of a low mountain range, laughs and chatters, leaps and tumbles, down the hills, through the gorges and over the ledges as if endowed with life.
The morning was clear and cool. He did his chores, then went out to his ten-acre field of wheat and lucerne. The grain was heading beautifully; and there were prospects of three cuttings of hay; the potatoes were doing fine, also the corn and the squash and the melons. The young farmer's heart was made glad to see the coming harvest, all the work of his own hands.
"I mean," replied Christopher, "to stop trying to do what I am hindered in doing, and do just once in my life what I want to do. Myrtle asked me this morning if I wasn't going to plow the south field. Well, I ain't going to plow the south field. I ain't going to make a garden. I ain't going to try for hay in the ten-acre lot. I have stopped.
When Collins succinctly called his attention to a discrepancy in his figurings, he smiled his slow, winning, troubled smile, thrust the hair back from his clear eyes, and bent his lean athlete's frame again to the labour. He soon discovered that this work demanded speed as well as accuracy. "And I need a ten-acre lot to turn around in," he told himself half humorously. "I'm a regular ice-wagon."
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