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           andonthatmorningwhenitwaslongenoughforcutting,insteadofrachetsandhemsandyelling,thereshouldbeagreatswellingsymphonyoflawnmowersreapingfreshgrassupontheprairielands.Insteadofconfettiandserpentine,peopleshouldthrowgrasssprayateachotherontheonedayeachyearthatreallyrepresentsBeginning!

           Hesnortedathisownlengthydiscussionoftheaffair,wenttothewindowandleanedoutintothemellowsunshine,andsureenough,therewasaboarder,ayoungnewspapermannamedForrester,justfinishingarow.

           "Morning,Mr.Spaulding!"

           "Give’emhell,Bill!"criedGrandpaheartily,andsoondownstairseatingGrandma’sbreakfast,withthewindowopensotherattlingbuzzofthelawnmowerlolledabouthiseating.

           "Itgivesyouconfidence,"Grandpasaid."Thatlawnmower.Listentoit!"

           "Won’tbeusingthelawnmowermuchlonger."Grandmasetdownastackofwheatcakes."TheygotanewkindofgrassBillForrester’sputtinginthismorning,neverneedscutting.Don’tknowwhattheycallit,butitjustgrowssolongandnolonger."

           Grandpastaredatthewoman."You’refindingapoor!waytojokewithme."

           "Golookforyourself.Land’ssake,"saidGrandma,"itwasBillForrester’sidea.Thenewgrassiswaitinginlittleflatsbythesideofthehouse.Youjustdigsmallholeshereandthereandputthenewgrassinspots.Bytheendoftheyearthenewgrasskillsofftheold,andyousellyourlawnmower."

           Grandpawasupfromhischair,throughthehall,andoutthefrontdoorintenseconds.

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