We look at every one we hear is for sale.
But they all cost too much."
"This one won't. It's a bargain-counter farm. A house and fifteen acres.
You can get it for six thousand dollars if you'll buy it to-day."
"All right; we'll take it," cried Mr. Ranny gaily. "Lead us to it."
The quest for the farm became so absorbing that the wild flowers were
forgotten. The oftener they took the wrong road and had to start over,
the keener they became to reach their destination.
"I believe it was a pipe-dream," said Mr. Ranny; "you never saw the place
at all."
"Yes, I did! I'm not kidding you. It's a regular peach of a place for
anybody that's got money to fix it up. Hold on a minute; this looks like
the side lane. Do you mind walking the rest of the way?"
"Not if we get anywhere," said Mr. Ranny.
Their way led through a tangled thicket, across a log bridge, and up a
steep hillside abloom from base to summit with early spring flowers. Down
through the tender green leaves the sunshine poured, searching out many
nooks and corners at which it would get no chance when the heavier
foliage intervened.
"This is where the land begins," said Quin.
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