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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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