baron 1.0.3 → 1.0.4

data/spec/sample_data/Rakefile

@@ -7,7 +7,7 @@ task :default => :new
 desc "Create a new article."
 task :new do
   title = ask('Title: ')
-  slug = title.empty?? nil : title.strip.slugize
+  slug = title.empty? ? nil : title.strip.slugize
 
   article = {'title' => title, 'date' => Time.now.strftime("%d/%m/%Y")}.to_yaml
   article << "\n"

data/spec/sample_data/articles/favorites/1916-01-01-the-road-not-taken.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,26 @@
+title: The Road Not Taken
+author: Robert Frost
+
+Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,<br/>
+And sorry I could not travel both<br/>
+And be one traveler, long I stood<br/>
+And looked down one as far as I could<br/>
+To where it bent in the undergrowth;
+ 
+Then took the other, as just as fair,<br/>
+And having perhaps the better claim,<br/>
+Because it was grassy and wanted wear;<br/>
+Though as for that the passing there<br/>
+Had worn them really about the same,
+ 
+And both that morning equally lay<br/>
+In leaves no step had trodden black.<br/>
+Oh, I kept the first for another day!<br/>
+Yet knowing how way leads on to way,<br/>
+I doubted if I should ever come back.
+ 
+I shall be telling this with a sigh<br/>
+Somewhere ages and ages hence:<br/>
+Two roads diverged in a wood, and I –<br/>
+I took the one less traveled by,<br/>
+And that has made all the difference.

data/spec/sample_data/articles/north of boston/1914-01-01-the-pasture.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,10 @@
+Title: The Pasture
+
+I'm going out to clean the pasture spring;<br/>
+I'll only stop to rake the leaves away<br/>
+(And wait to watch the water clear, I may):<br/>
+I sha'n't be gone long.—You come too.<br/>
+I'm going out to fetch the little calf<br/>
+That's standing by the mother. It's so young,<br/>
+It totters when she licks it with her tongue.<br/>
+I sha'n't be gone long.—You come too.

data/spec/sample_data/articles/north of boston/1914-01-02-mending-wall.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,48 @@
+title: Mending Wall
+
+
+Something there is that doesn't love a wall,<br/>
+That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,<br/>
+And spills the upper boulders in the sun;<br/>
+And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.<br/>
+The work of hunters is another thing:<br/>
+I have come after them and made repair<br/>
+Where they have left not one stone on a stone,<br/>
+But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,<br/>
+To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,<br/>
+No one has seen them made or heard them made,<br/>
+But at spring mending-time we find them there.<br/>
+I let my neighbor know beyond the hill;<br/>
+And on a day we meet to walk the line<br/>
+And set the wall between us once again.<br/>
+We keep the wall between us as we go.<br/>
+To each the boulders that have fallen to each.<br/>
+And some are loaves and some so nearly balls<br/>
+We have to use a spell to make them balance:<br/>
+'Stay where you are until our backs are turned!'<br/>
+We wear our fingers rough with handling them.<br/>
+Oh, just another kind of outdoor game,<br/>
+One on a side. It comes to little more:<br/>
+There where it is we do not need the wall:<br/>
+He is all pine and I am apple orchard.<br/>
+My apple trees will never get across<br/>
+And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.<br/>
+He only says, 'Good fences make good neighbors.'<br/>
+Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder<br/>
+If I could put a notion in his head:<br/>
+'Why do they make good neighbors?  Isn't it<br/>
+Where there are cows?  But here there are no cows.<br/>
+Before I built a wall I'd ask to know<br/>
+What I was walling in or walling out,<br/>
+And to whom I was like to give offense.<br/>
+Something there is that doesn't love a wall,<br/>
+That wants it down.' I could say 'Elves' to him,<br/>
+But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather<br/>
+He said it for himself. I see him there<br/>
+Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top<br/>
+In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.<br/>
+He moves in darkness as it seems to me,<br/>
+Not of woods only and the shade of trees.<br/>
+He will not go behind his father's saying,<br/>
+And he likes having thought of it so well<br/>
+He says again, 'Good fences make good neighbors.'

data/spec/sample_data/articles/north of boston/1914-01-03-the-death-of-the-hired-man.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,211 @@
+title: The Death of the Hired Man
+
+Mary sat musing on the lamp-flame at the table<br/>
+Waiting for Warren. When she heard his step,<br/>
+She ran on tip-toe down the darkened passage<br/>
+To meet him in the doorway with the news<br/>
+And put him on his guard. "Silas is back."<br/>
+She pushed him outward with her through the door<br/>
+And shut it after her. "Be kind," she said.<br/>
+She took the market things from Warren's arms<br/>
+And set them on the porch, then drew him down<br/>
+To sit beside her on the wooden steps.<br/>
+"When was I ever anything but kind to him?<br/>
+But I'll not have the fellow back," he said.<br/>
+"I told him so last haying, didn't I?<br/>
+'If he left then,' I said, 'that ended it.'<br/>
+What good is he? Who else will harbour him<br/>
+At his age for the little he can do?<br/>
+What help he is there's no depending on.<br/>
+Off he goes always when I need him most.<br/>
+'He thinks he ought to earn a little pay,<br/>
+Enough at least to buy tobacco with,<br/>
+So he won't have to beg and be beholden.'<br/>
+'All right,' I say, 'I can't afford to pay<br/>
+Any fixed wages, though I wish I could.'<br/>
+'Someone else can.' 'Then someone else will have to.'<br/>
+I shouldn't mind his bettering himself<br/>
+If that was what it was. You can be certain,<br/>
+When he begins like that, there's someone at him<br/>
+Trying to coax him off with pocket-money,--<br/>
+In haying time, when any help is scarce.<br/>
+In winter he comes back to us. I'm done."<br/>
+
+"Sh! not so loud: he'll hear you," Mary said.<br/>
+
+"I want him to: he'll have to soon or late."<br/>
+
+"He's worn out. He's asleep beside the stove.<br/>
+When I came up from Rowe's I found him here,<br/>
+Huddled against the barn-door fast asleep,<br/>
+A miserable sight, and frightening, too--<br/>
+You needn't smile--I didn't recognise him--<br/>
+I wasn't looking for him--and he's changed.<br/>
+Wait till you see."<br/>
+
+"Where did you say he'd been?"<br/>
+
+"He didn't say. I dragged him to the house,<br/>
+And gave him tea and tried to make him smoke.<br/>
+I tried to make him talk about his travels.<br/>
+Nothing would do: he just kept nodding off."<br/>
+
+"What did he say? Did he say anything?"
+
+"But little."
+
+"Anything? Mary, confess<br/>
+He said he'd come to ditch the meadow for me."
+
+"Warren!"
+
+" ;But did he? I just want to know."
+
+"Of course he did. What would you have him say?<br/>
+Surely you wouldn't grudge the poor old man<br/>
+Some humble way to save his self-respect.<br/>
+He added, if you really care to know,<br/>
+He meant to clear the upper pasture, too.<br/>
+That sounds like something you have heard before?<br/>
+Warren, I wish you could have heard the way<br/>
+He jumbled everything. I stopped to look<br/>
+Two or three times--he made me feel so queer--<br/>
+To see if he was talking in his sleep.<br/>
+He ran on Harold Wilson--you remember--<br/>
+The boy you had in haying four years since.<br/>
+He's finished school, and teaching in his college.<br/>
+Silas declares you'll have to get him back.<br/>
+He says they two will make a team for work:<br/>
+Between them they will lay this farm as smooth!<br/>
+The way he mixed that in with other things.<br/>
+He thinks young Wilson a likely lad, though daft<br/>
+On education--you know how they fought<br/>
+All through July under the blazing sun,<br/>
+Silas up on the cart to build the load,<br/>
+Harold along beside to pitch it on."<br/>
+
+"Yes, I took care to keep well out of earshot."<br/>
+
+"Well, those days trouble Silas like a dream.<br/>
+You wouldn't think they would. How some things linger!<br/>
+Harold's young college boy's assurance piqued him.<br/>
+After so many years he still keeps finding<br/>
+Good arguments he sees he might have used.<br/>
+I sympathise. I know just how it feels<br/>
+To think of the right thing to say too late.<br/>
+Harold's associated in his mind with Latin.<br/>
+He asked me what I thought of Harold's saying<br/>
+He studied Latin like the violin<br/>
+Because he liked it--that an argument!<br/>
+He said he couldn't make the boy believe<br/>
+He could find water with a hazel prong--<br/>
+Which showed how much good school had ever done him.<br/>
+He wanted to go over that. But most of all<br/>
+He thinks if he could have another chance<br/>
+To teach him how to build a load of hay----"<br/>
+
+"I know, that's Silas' one accomplishment.<br/>
+He bundles every forkful in its place,<br/>
+And tags and numbers it for future reference,<br/>
+So he can find and easily dislodge it<br/>
+In the unloading. Silas does that well.<br/>
+He takes it out in bunches like big birds' nests.<br/>
+You never see him standing on the hay<br/>
+He's trying to lift, straining to lift himself."<br/>
+
+"He thinks if he could teach him that, he'd be<br/>
+Some good perhaps to someone in the world.<br/>
+He hates to see a boy the fool of books.<br/>
+Poor Silas, so concerned for other folk,<br/>
+And nothing to look backward to with pride,<br/>
+And nothing to look forward to with hope,<br/>
+So now and never any different."<br/>
+
+Part of a moon was falling down the west,<br/>
+Dragging the whole sky with it to the hills.<br/>
+Its light poured softly in her lap. She saw<br/>
+And spread her apron to it. She put out her hand<br/>
+Among the harp-like morning-glory strings,<br/>
+Taut with the dew from garden bed to eaves,<br/>
+As if she played unheard the tenderness<br/>
+That wrought on him beside her in the night.<br/>
+"Warren," she said, "he has come home to die:<br/>
+You needn't be afraid he'll leave you this time."<br/>
+
+"Home," he mocked gently.<br/>
+
+"Yes, what else but home?<br/>
+It all depends on what you mean by home.<br/>
+Of course he's nothing to us, any more<br/>
+Than was the hound that came a stranger to us<br/>
+Out of the woods, worn out upon the trail."<br/>
+
+"Home is the place where, when you have to go there,<br/>
+They have to take you in."<br/>
+
+"I should have called it<br/>
+Something you somehow haven't to deserve."<br/>
+
+Warren leaned out and took a step or two,<br/>
+Picked up a little stick, and brought it back<br/>
+And broke it in his hand and tossed it by.<br/>
+"Silas has better claim on us you think<br/>
+Than on his brother? Thirteen little miles<br/>
+As the road winds would bring him to his door.<br/>
+Silas has walked that far no doubt to-day.<br/>
+Why didn't he go there? His brother's rich,<br/>
+A somebody--director in the bank."
+
+"He never told us that."
+
+"We know it though."
+
+"I think his brother ought to help, of course.<br/>
+I'll see to that if there is need. He ought of right<br/>
+To take him in, and might be willing to--<br/>
+He may be better than appearances.<br/>
+But have some pity on Silas. Do you think<br/>
+If he'd had any pride in claiming kin<br/>
+Or anything he looked for from his brother,<br/>
+He'd keep so still about him all this time?"
+
+"I wonder what's between them."
+
+"I can tell you.<br/>
+Silas is what he is--we wouldn't mind him--<br/>
+But just the kind that kinsfolk can't abide.<br/>
+He never did a thing so very bad.<br/>
+He don't know why he isn't quite as good<br/>
+As anyone. He won't be made ashamed<br/>
+To please his brother, worthless though he is."
+
+"I can't think Si ever hurt anyone."
+
+"No, but he hurt my heart the way he lay<br/>
+And rolled his old head on that sharp-edged chair-back.<br/>
+He wouldn't let me put him on the lounge.<br/>
+You must go in and see what you can do.<br/>
+I made the bed up for him there to-night.<br/>
+You'll be surprised at him--how much he's broken.<br/>
+His working days are done; I'm sure of it."
+
+"I'd not be in a hurry to say that."
+
+"I haven't been. Go, look, see for yourself.<br/>
+But, Warren, please remember how it is:<br/>
+He's come to help you ditch the meadow.<br/>
+He has a plan. You mustn't laugh at him.<br/>
+He may not speak of it, and then he may.<br/>
+I'll sit and see if that small sailing cloud<br/>
+Will hit or miss the moon."
+
+It hit the moon.<br/>
+Then there were three there, making a dim row,<br/>
+The moon, the little silver cloud, and she.<br/>
+
+Warren returned--too soon, it seemed to her,<br/>
+Slipped to her side, caught up her hand and waited.
+
+"Warren," she questioned.
+
+"Dead," was all he answered.

data/spec/sample_data/articles/north of boston/1914-01-04-the-mountain.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,121 @@
+title: The Mountain
+
+The mountain held the town as in a shadow<br/>
+I saw so much before I slept there once:<br/>
+I noticed that I missed stars in the west,<br/>
+Where its black body cut into the sky.<br/>
+Near me it seemed: I felt it like a wall<br/>
+Behind which I was sheltered from a wind.<br/>
+And yet between the town and it I found,<br/>
+When I walked forth at dawn to see new things,<br/>
+Were fields, a river, and beyond, more fields.<br/>
+The river at the time was fallen away,<br/>
+And made a widespread brawl on cobble-stones;<br/>
+But the signs showed what it had done in spring;<br/>
+Good grass-land gullied out, and in the grass<br/>
+Ridges of sand, and driftwood stripped of bark.<br/>
+I crossed the river and swung round the mountain.<br/>
+And there I met a man who moved so slow<br/>
+With white-faced oxen in a heavy cart,<br/>
+It seemed no hand to stop him altogether.<br/>
+"What town is this?" I asked.<br/>
+"This? Lunenburg."<br/>
+Then I was wrong: the town of my sojourn,<br/>
+Beyond the bridge, was not that of the mountain,<br/>
+But only felt at night its shadowy presence.<br/>
+"Where is your village? Very far from here?"<br/>
+"There is no village—only scattered farms.<br/>
+We were but sixty voters last election.<br/>
+We can't in nature grow to many more:<br/>
+That thing takes all the room!" He moved his goad.<br/>
+The mountain stood there to be pointed at.<br/>
+Pasture ran up the side a little way,<br/>
+And then there was a wall of trees with trunks:<br/>
+After that only tops of trees, and cliffs<br/>
+Imperfectly concealed among the leaves.<br/>
+A dry ravine emerged from under boughs<br/>
+Into the pasture.<br/>
+"That looks like a path.<br/>
+Is that the way to reach the top from here?—<br/>
+Not for this morning, but some other time:<br/>
+I must be getting back to breakfast now."<br/>
+"I don't advise your trying from this side.<br/>
+There is no proper path, but those that have<br/>
+Been up, I understand, have climbed from Ladd's.<br/>
+That's five miles back. You can't mistake the place:<br/>
+They logged it there last winter some way up.<br/>
+I'd take you, but I'm bound the other way."<br/>
+"You've never climbed it?"<br/>
+"I've been on the sides<br/>
+Deer-hunting and trout-fishing. There's a brook<br/>
+That starts up on it somewhere—I've heard say<br/>
+Right on the top, tip-top—a curious thing.<br/>
+But what would interest you about the brook,<br/>
+It's always cold in summer, warm in winter.<br/>
+One of the great sights going is to see<br/>
+It steam in winter like an ox's breath,<br/>
+Until the bushes all along its banks<br/>
+Are inch-deep with the frosty spines and bristles—<br/>
+You know the kind. Then let the sun shine on it!"<br/>
+"There ought to be a view around the world<br/>
+From such a mountain—if it isn't wooded<br/>
+Clear to the top." I saw through leafy screens<br/>
+Great granite terraces in sun and shadow,<br/>
+Shelves one could rest a knee on getting up—<br/>
+With depths behind him sheer a hundred feet;<br/>
+Or turn and sit on and look out and down,<br/>
+With little ferns in crevices at his elbow.<br/>
+"As to that I can't say. But there's the spring,<br/>
+Right on the summit, almost like a fountain.<br/>
+That ought to be worth seeing."<br/>
+"If it's there.<br/>
+You never saw it?"<br/>
+"I guess there's no doubt<br/>
+About its being there. I never saw it.<br/>
+It may not be right on the very top:<br/>
+It wouldn't have to be a long way down<br/>
+To have some head of water from above,<br/>
+And a good distance down might not be noticed<br/>
+By anyone who'd come a long way up.<br/>
+One time I asked a fellow climbing it<br/>
+To look and tell me later how it was."<br/>
+"What did he say?"<br/>
+"He said there was a lake<br/>
+Somewhere in Ireland on a mountain top."<br/>
+"But a lake's different. What about the spring?"<br/>
+"He never got up high enough to see.<br/>
+That's why I don't advise your trying this side.<br/>
+He tried this side. I've always meant to go<br/>
+And look myself, but you know how it is:<br/>
+It doesn't seem so much to climb a mountain<br/>
+You've worked around the foot of all your life.<br/>
+What would I do? Go in my overalls,<br/>
+With a big stick, the same as when the cows<br/>
+Haven't come down to the bars at milking time?<br/>
+Or with a shotgun for a stray black bear?<br/>
+'Twouldn't seem real to climb for climbing it."<br/>
+"I shouldn't climb it if I didn't want to—<br/>
+Not for the sake of climbing. What's its name?"<br/>
+"We call it Hor: I don't know if that's right."<br/>
+"Can one walk around it? Would it be too far?"<br/>
+"You can drive round and keep in Lunenburg,<br/>
+But it's as much as ever you can do,<br/>
+The boundary lines keep in so close to it.<br/>
+Hor is the township, and the township's Hor—<br/>
+And a few houses sprinkled round the foot,<br/>
+Like boulders broken off the upper cliff,<br/>
+Rolled out a little farther than the rest."<br/>
+"Warm in December, cold in June, you say?"<br/>
+"I don't suppose the water's changed at all.<br/>
+You and I know enough to know it's warm<br/>
+Compared with cold, and cold compared with warm.<br/>
+But all the fun's in how you say a thing."<br/>
+"You've lived here all your life?"<br/>
+"Ever since Hor<br/>
+Was no bigger than a——" What, I did not hear.<br/>
+He drew the oxen toward him with light touches<br/>
+Of his slim goad on nose and offside flank,<br/>
+Gave them their marching orders and was moving.
+
+
+

data/spec/sample_data/articles/north of boston/1914-01-05-A-Hundred-callers.txt

@@ -0,0 +1,196 @@
+Title: A Hundred Callers
+
+Lancaster bore him—such a little town,<br/>
+Such a great man. It doesn't see him often<br/>
+Of late years, though he keeps the old homestead<br/>
+And sends the children down there with their mother<br/>
+To run wild in the summer—a little wild.<br/>
+Sometimes he joins them for a day or two<br/>
+And sees old friends he somehow can't get near.<br/>
+They meet him in the general store at night,<br/>
+Pre-occupied with formidable mail,<br/>
+Rifling a printed letter as he talks.<br/>
+They seem afraid. He wouldn't have it so:<br/>
+Though a great scholar, he's a democrat,<br/>
+If not at heart, at least on principle.<br/>
+Lately when coming up to Lancaster<br/>
+His train being late he missed another train<br/>
+And had four hours to wait at Woodsville Junction<br/>
+After eleven o'clock at night. Too tired<br/>
+To think of sitting such an ordeal out,<br/>
+He turned to the hotel to find a bed.<br/>
+"No room," the night clerk said. "Unless——"<br/>
+Woodsville's a place of shrieks and wandering lamps<br/>
+And cars that shook and rattle—and one hotel.<br/>
+"You say 'unless.'"<br/>
+"Unless you wouldn't mind<br/>
+Sharing a room with someone else."<br/>
+"Who is it?"<br/>
+"A man."<br/>
+"So I should hope. What kind of man?"<br/>
+"I know him: he's all right. A man's a man.<br/>
+Separate beds of course you understand."<br/>
+The night clerk blinked his eyes and dared him on.<br/>
+"Who's that man sleeping in the office chair?<br/>
+Has he had the refusal of my chance?"<br/>
+"He was afraid of being robbed or murdered.<br/>
+What do you say?"<br/>
+"I'll have to have a bed."<br/>
+The night clerk led him up three flights of stairs<br/>
+And down a narrow passage full of doors,<br/>
+At the last one of which he knocked and entered.<br/>
+"Lafe, here's a fellow wants to share your room."<br/>
+"Show him this way. I'm not afraid of him.<br/>
+I'm not so drunk I can't take care of myself."<br/>
+The night clerk clapped a bedstead on the foot.<br/>
+"This will be yours. Good-night," he said, and went.<br/>
+"Lafe was the name, I think?"<br/>
+"Yes, Layfayette.<br/>
+You got it the first time. And yours?"<br/>
+"Magoon.<br/>
+Doctor Magoon."<br/>
+"A Doctor?"<br/>
+"Well, a teacher."<br/>
+"Professor Square-the-circle-till-you're-tired?<br/>
+Hold on, there's something I don't think of now<br/>
+That I had on my mind to ask the first<br/>
+Man that knew anything I happened in with.<br/>
+I'll ask you later—don't let me forget it."<br/>
+The Doctor looked at Lafe and looked away.<br/>
+A man? A brute. Naked above the waist,<br/>
+He sat there creased and shining in the light,<br/>
+Fumbling the buttons in a well-starched shirt.<br/>
+"I'm moving into a size-larger shirt.<br/>
+I've felt mean lately; mean's no name for it.<br/>
+I just found what the matter was to-night:<br/>
+I've been a-choking like a nursery tree<br/>
+When it outgrows the wire band of its name tag.<br/>
+I blamed it on the hot spell we've been having.<br/>
+'Twas nothing but my foolish hanging back,<br/>
+Not liking to own up I'd grown a size.<br/>
+Number eighteen this is. What size do you wear?"<br/>
+The Doctor caught his throat convulsively.<br/>
+"Oh—ah—fourteen—fourteen."<br/>
+"Fourteen! You say so!<br/>
+I can remember when I wore fourteen.<br/>
+And come to think I must have back at home<br/>
+More than a hundred collars, size fourteen.<br/>
+Too bad to waste them all. You ought to have them.<br/>
+They're yours and welcome; let me send them to you.<br/>
+What makes you stand there on one leg like that?<br/>
+You're not much furtherer than where Kike left you.<br/>
+You act as if you wished you hadn't come.<br/>
+Sit down or lie down, friend; you make me nervous."<br/>
+The Doctor made a subdued dash for it,<br/>
+And propped himself at bay against a pillow.<br/>
+"Not that way, with your shoes on Kike's white bed.<br/>
+You can't rest that way. Let me pull your shoes off."<br/>
+"Don't touch me, please—I say, don't touch me, please.<br/>
+I'll not be put to bed by you, my man."<br/>
+"Just as you say. Have it your own way then.<br/>
+'My man' is it? You talk like a professor.<br/>
+Speaking of who's afraid of who, however,<br/>
+I'm thinking I have more to lose than you<br/>
+If anything should happen to be wrong.<br/>
+Who wants to cut your number fourteen throat!<br/>
+Let's have a show down as an evidence<br/>
+Of good faith. There is ninety dollars.<br/>
+Come, if you're not afraid."<br/>
+"I'm not afraid.<br/>
+There's five: that's all I carry."<br/>
+"I can search you?<br/>
+Where are you moving over to? Stay still.<br/>
+You'd better tuck your money under you<br/>
+And sleep on it the way I always do<br/>
+When I'm with people I don't trust at night."<br/>
+"Will you believe me if I put it there<br/>
+Right on the counterpane—that I do trust you?"<br/>
+"You'd say so, Mister Man.—I'm a collector.<br/>
+My ninety isn't mine—you won't think that.<br/>
+I pick it up a dollar at a time<br/>
+All round the country for the Weekly News,<br/>
+Published in Bow. You know the Weekly News?"<br/>
+"Known it since I was young."<br/>
+"Then you know me.<br/>
+Now we are getting on together—talking.<br/>
+I'm sort of Something for it at the front.<br/>
+My business is to find what people want:<br/>
+They pay for it, and so they ought to have it.<br/>
+Fairbanks, he says to me—he's editor—<br/>
+Feel out the public sentiment—he says.<br/>
+A good deal comes on me when all is said.<br/>
+The only trouble is we disagree<br/>
+In politics: I'm Vermont Democrat—<br/>
+You know what that is, sort of double-dyed;<br/>
+The News has always been Republican.<br/>
+Fairbanks, he says to me, 'Help us this year,'<br/>
+Meaning by us their ticket. 'No,' I says,<br/>
+'I can't and won't. You've been in long enough:<br/>
+It's time you turned around and boosted us.<br/>
+You'll have to pay me more than ten a week<br/>
+If I'm expected to elect Bill Taft.<br/>
+I doubt if I could do it anyway.'"<br/>
+"You seem to shape the paper's policy."<br/>
+"You see I'm in with everybody, know 'em all.<br/>
+I almost know their farms as well as they do."<br/>
+"You drive around? It must be pleasant work."<br/>
+"It's business, but I can't say it's not fun.<br/>
+What I like best's the lay of different farms,<br/>
+Coming out on them from a stretch of woods,<br/>
+Or over a hill or round a sudden corner.<br/>
+I like to find folks getting out in spring,<br/>
+Raking the dooryard, working near the house.<br/>
+Later they get out further in the fields.<br/>
+Everything's shut sometimes except the barn;<br/>
+The family's all away in some back meadow.<br/>
+There's a hay load a-coming—when it comes.<br/>
+And later still they all get driven in:<br/>
+The fields are stripped to lawn, the garden patches<br/>
+Stripped to bare ground, the apple trees<br/>
+To whips and poles. There's nobody about.<br/>
+The chimney, though, keeps up a good brisk smoking.<br/>
+And I lie back and ride. I take the reins<br/>
+Only when someone's coming, and the mare<br/>
+Stops when she likes: I tell her when to go.<br/>
+I've spoiled Jemima in more ways than one.<br/>
+She's got so she turns in at every house<br/>
+As if she had some sort of curvature,<br/>
+No matter if I have no errand there.<br/>
+She thinks I'm sociable. I maybe am.<br/>
+It's seldom I get down except for meals, though.<br/>
+Folks entertain me from the kitchen doorstep,<br/>
+All in a family row down to the youngest."<br/>
+"One would suppose they might not be as glad<br/>
+To see you as you are to see them."<br/>
+"Oh,<br/>
+Because I want their dollar. I don't want<br/>
+Anything they've not got. I never dun.<br/>
+I'm there, and they can pay me if they like.<br/>
+I go nowhere on purpose: I happen by.<br/>
+Sorry there is no cup to give you a drink.<br/>
+I drink out of the bottle—not your style.<br/>
+Mayn't I offer you——?"<br/>
+"No, no, no, thank you."<br/>
+"Just as you say. Here's looking at you then.—<br/>
+And now I'm leaving you a little while.<br/>
+You'll rest easier when I'm gone, perhaps—<br/>
+Lie down—let yourself go and get some sleep.<br/>
+But first—let's see—what was I going to ask you?<br/>
+Those collars—who shall I address them to,<br/>
+Suppose you aren't awake when I come back?"<br/>
+"Really, friend, I can't let you. You—may need them."<br/>
+"Not till I shrink, when they'll be out of style."<br/>
+"But really I—I have so many collars."<br/>
+"I don't know who I rather would have have them.<br/>
+They're only turning yellow where they are.<br/>
+But you're the doctor as the saying is.<br/>
+I'll put the light out. Don't you wait for me:<br/>
+I've just begun the night. You get some sleep.<br/>
+I'll knock so-fashion and peep round the door<br/>
+When I come back so you'll know who it is.<br/>
+There's nothing I'm afraid of like scared people.<br/>
+I don't want you should shoot me in the head.<br/>
+What am I doing carrying off this bottle?<br/>
+There now, you get some sleep."<br/>
+He shut the door.<br/>
+The Doctor slid a little down the pillow.