“What is duff?” asked both boys.
“The—well—blanket formed by the leaves, rotted limbs, and logs that always covers the ground in forests.”
“Well, you’re wrong for once,” cried Ted, gleefully, as he held up a squirming worm.
“Glad I am,” smiled Andy. “Now it won’t be necessary for you to take my word that this land is fertile.
“There’s another thing I must tell you about. At the Land Office they’ll ask you a lot of questions, and one will be about whether there’s enough rainfall to serve your crops. As to that, I can’t inform you. You are surrounded by hills.”
“Mountains, we call them,” interrupted Phil.
“Well, mountains, then, so they may cut off your rain.”
“But we have the brook, so we can irrigate,” put in Ted.
“Say, who is telling this—you or me?”
“Go on, we won’t interrupt again,” promised the boys.