do that,” she said thoughtfully. “That would be nice.”
“You see, I’m willing to make any arrangement, Cousin Jule. It’s about all there is that I’m fond of now, that old place. I haven’t any folks of my own, and not a chick nor child, and I love every stick and stone of that farm. I love the country, and I love Connecticut country best of all, I don’t care if it is rocky. You can’t make farming pay in New England any more. But I don’t need to make it pay; I’m willing to pay for the pleasure of it. And I want to do something for the town, too. I want ’em to be glad I came to settle there. Who’s got the keys?”
“I have, right here,” she answered. “The furniture is all ours, you see; they haven’t brought much, only they’ve changed things all around. I haven’t renewed the lease yet for this year.”
“Well, now, look here, Jule,” Mr. Bean cried eagerly, dropping the end of