"They don't remind me of the Western prairies, I can tell you," was the reply. "I am a Westerner myself, or I was until eight years ago. These lands look all right from the train when the crops are all off, but I find that every patch of the earth's surface doesn't always make a good farm. Why you can go from Danville, Illinois, to Omaha, Nebraska, and stop anywhere in the darkest night and you're mighty near sure to light on a good farm where one acre is worth ten of this land along here."
"About what is this land worth?" asked Percy.
"Well, I thought six hundred acres of it was worth $5,000 about eight years ago, especially as the buildings on the place were in good repair and couldn't be built to-day for less than $6,000: but right now I think I paid a plenty for my land. It's just back a few miles at the station where I got on."
"How far is that from Washington?"
"About fifteen miles, I reckon, as the crow flies. My boy has a telescope his uncle sent him and we can see the Monument on a clear day."
"What monument?" asked Percy.
"Why, Washington's monument. Haven't you ever been to Washington?"
"No, this is my first visit. I am really thinking of buying a farm somewhere here in the East. I have been in Richmond and learned a great deal from the state reports, and I thought I might get more information from the Department of Agriculture in Washington."
"Perhaps," said the man, "but my advice is to keep in mind that there is a difference between buying land and buying a farm. I've got land to sell, by the way. I thought I'd need it all when I bought, but I can see now that I'll not need more'n half of it at the most; so, if you want two or three hundred acres of this kind of land right close here where you kind o' neighbor with the senators and other upper tens, and run back and forth from the City in an hour or so, why I think I can accommodate you. My name is Sunderland, J. R. Sunderland, and you'll find me at home any day."
"How much would you sell part of your land for?" inquired Percy.