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"It's head-work," Mostyn obligingly explained, as he followed John into the buggy and sat beside him "Head-work," Webb echoed, the cloud still on his brow He clucked to his horse and gently shook the reins "To save --could tire out a ood deal of worry attached to it," Mostyn felt i that worry will kill a ood sound sleep is necessary, and when a reatly bothered he simply can't sleep"

"Oh, I see, I see," Webb's blue eyes flashed "Tharin that, but it does seeu that won't be of use to 'im after he dies That's common sense, ain't it?"

Mostyn was compelled to ade square and were now in the open country

"Thar is oneabout town folks an' country folks that I've alanted to know," John began again after a silence of several minutes, "and that is why town folks contend that country folks is green As I look at it it is an even swap Now, you are a town e o' that cotton- field whar it joins on to the woods on that slope thar, an' point out a spot whar you couldn't h it will reach four feet everywhar else in the field Now, I'd be an impolite fool to lie down thar betwixt the rows an' split ot on to by years an' years o' farm life The truth is that cotton won't take any sort o' root within twenty feet of a white-oak tree"

"I didn't know that," Mostyn said

"I knowed you didn't, an' that's why I fetched it up," Webb went on, blandly, "an" me nor no other farmer would poke fun at you about it, but it is different in town Jest let a spindle-legged counter-juit a joke on a country feller, an' the whole toill take a hand in it Oh, I know, for they've shore had me on the run"