Page:Frank Owen - Rare Earth, 1931.djvu/131

 As de clouds go by. An' de Spirits are puttin' De moon in de sky, An' stickin' de stars Here and dere like a fly, A firefly lighting De sky up above. An' crooked in my arm A wee un to love. Lullaby? Lullaby? Whut can it be? Hush! 'tis a secret 'Tween baby an' me."

Those first few years on the farm were rather lean years. Benda had not been educated to be a farmer although his early youth had been spent on a plantation. It was not easy for him to get back to plowing. However, he set about the study of the soil with the same determination that he had gone in for civil engineering. He possessed two assets—courage and enthusiasm. Sometimes he even plowed at night by lantern light. He had to get the work done. He could not afford hired help.