"A while ago，"said the Major，resuming the conversationas he carved the roast，"a young fellow came to me who hadinvented a new sort of pump to in？ate rubber tires.He wanted capital to patent the pump and put it on the market.The thing looked pretty good，John；so I lent him a thousand of your money.""Quite right，"returned Uncle John，nodding.
"But pretty soon he came back with a sad tale.He was in a bad ？x.Another fellow was contesting his patent and ？ghting hard to head him off.It would take a lot of money to fight back—three thousand，at least.But he was decent about it，after all.His father had left him a little farm at Millville.He couldn't say what it was worth，but there were sixty acres and some good buildings，and he would deed it to you as security if you would let him have three thousand more.""So you took the farm and gave him the money？""I did，sir.Perhaps I am to blame；but I liked the young fellow's looks.He was clean—cut and frank，and believed in his pump.I did more.At the climax of the struggle I gave another thousand，making ？ve thousand in all.""Well？""It's gone，John；and you've got the farm.The other fellows were too clever for my young friend，Joseph Wegg，and knocked out his patent.""I'm so sorry！"said Patsy，sympathetically.
The Major coughed.
"It's not an unusual tale，my dear；especially when John advances the money，"he replied.
"What became of a the young man？"asked the girl.
"He's a competent chauffeurb，and so he went to work driving an automobile.""Where is Millville？"inquired Uncle John，thoughtfully.
"Somewhere at the north of the State，I believe.""Have you investigated the farm at all？""I looked up a real estate dealer living at Millville，and wrote him about the Wegg farm.He said if any one wanted the place very badly it might sell for three thousand dollars.""Humph！""But his best information was to the effectc that no one wanted it at all."Patsy laughed.
"Poor Uncle John！"she said.
The little man，however，was serious.For a time he ate with great deliberation and revolved an interesting thought in his mind.
"Years ago."said he，"I lived in a country town；and I love the smell of the meadows and the hum of the bees in the orchards.Any orchards at my farm，Major？""Don't know，sir.""Pretty soon，"continued Uncle John，"it's going to be dreadfully hot in New York，and we'll have to get away.""Seashore's the place，"remarked the Major."AtlanticCity，or Swampscott，or—""Rubbish！"growled the other man，impatiently."The girls and I have just come from Europe.We've had enough sea to last us all this season，at least.What we pine for is country life—pure milk，apple trees and new mown hay.""We，Uncle？"said Patsy.
"Yes，my dear.A couple of months on the farm will do all of my nieces good.Beth is still with Louise，you know，and they must ？nd the city deadly dull，just now.The farm's the thing.And the Major can run up to see us for a couple of weeks in the hot weather，and we'll all have a glorious，lazy time.""And we can take Mary along to do the cooking，"suggested Patsy，entering into the idea enthusiastically.
"And eat in our shirt—sleeves！"said Uncle John，with a glowing face.
"And have a cow and some pigs！"cried the girl.
"Pah！"said the Major，scornfully."You talk as if it were a real farm，instead of a place no one would have as a gift."Uncle John looked sober again.
"Anyone live on the place，Major？"he inquired.
"I believe not.It's gone to ruin and decay the last few years.""But it could be put into shape？""Perhaps so；at an expense that will add to your loss.""Never mind that.""If you want farm life，why don't you rent a respectablefarm？"demanded the Major.
"No；this is my farm.I own it，and it's my bounded duty to live on it，"said Uncle John，stubbornly."Write to that real estate fellow at Millville tomorrow and tell him to have the place ？xed up and put into ship—shape order as quickly as possible.Tell him to buy some cows and pigs and chickens，and hire a man to look after them.Also a horse and buggy，some saddle horses—""Go slow，John.Don't leave such a job to a country real estate dealer.If I remember right the fellow wrote like a blacksmith.If you want horses and rigs，let Hutchinson send you down the right sort，with an experienced groom and stable hands.But I'm not sure there will be a place to put them.""Oh，Uncle！"exclaimed Patsy；"don't let us have allthose luxuries.Let us live a simple life on the farm，and not degrade its charms by adding city fixin's.The cow and the chickens are all right，but let's cut out the horses until we get there.Don't you know，dear，that a big establishment means lots of servants，and servants mean worry and strife？I want to let down the bars for the cow when she moos，and milk her myself.""It takes a skilled mechanic to milk a cow，"objected theMajor.
"But Patsy's right！"cried her uncle，with conviction."We don't want any frillsa at all.Just tell your man，Major，to putthe place into good living condition.""Patrichia，"softly remarked the Major，with an admiring glance at his small daughter，"has more sinse in her frizzleda head than both of us put together.""If she hadn't more than you，"retorted Uncle John，witha grin，"I'd put a candle inside her noodle and call her a Jack—Lantern."
