"Papa has," observed Winthrop. "Yes — if those stumps were out once. We ought to have good crops this year, of most things."
"I am sure I have spent four or five years of my life in hard work upon it," said the other.
"Your life ain't much the worse of it," said Winthrop, laughingly.
Rufus did not answer the laugh. He looked off to the hills again, and his lips seemed to close in upon his thoughts.
"Papa has spent more than that," said the younger brother gravely. "How hard he has worked — to make this farm!"
"Well, he has made it."
"Yes, but he has paid a dozen years of his life for it. And mamma! —"
"It was a pretty tough subject to begin with," said the elder, looking about him again. "But it's a nice farm now; — it's the handsomest farm in the county; — it ought to pay considerable now, after this."
"It hasn't brought us in much so far," observed Winthrop, "except just to keep along; — and a pretty tight fit at that."
"The house ought to be up here," said Rufus, considering the little distant brown speck; — "it would be worth twice as much."