"Eighty acres of beautiful Ozarks hill country, $4,000. Only thirty minutes from the Queen City. Call for a look see." For most of his life Clarence had dreamed of living in the country, away from the noises and smells and confusions of the city. To be truthful, he had in mind a working farm with him in overalls and straw hat carrying a pitchfork. He knew nothing at all about farming, except what he had read in books; but if he had learned one thing about learning things it was perseverance. Everything in the world could be found inside the covers of a book, if you knew how to locate it. And once you had located it all you had to do was read and study and persevere.

He stared at the ad for a time, convinced that he had run upon one of those once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. He believed sincerely in que sera sera, and if what he was looking at wasn't que sera sera then he was a blithering idiot. Eighty acres of beautiful Ozarks hardwoods! He tried to imagine how big eighty acres was. The entire addition in which he and Mabel and their three children lived was maybe fifteen!

Without consulting Mabel, he dialed the number. His excuse being that he just wanted to find out where that eighty was located. That's all. He had no intention of going over her head. Suddenly a booming voice was in his ear: "H. B. Jakes here! How can I hep you?"

For a split second Clarence hesitated. Then he said:

"That eighty in your ad. Where is it?"

"Southeast, out in Christian County. A couple of hog calls and a yodel--"

"When could I see it?"

"Well, I'm showing it at eleven to a couple from the Queen City. How about this afternoon?"

"How about right now?"

Mabel was suddenly in the door, listening, disapproving; but all she had heard were those last four words. Clarence began to talk fast, giving her information on a need-to-know basis, making it as clear as he could that time was of the essence, that if they did not get the kids up and into the car fast he might miss the greatest opportunity of his life. "I'm not moving to the country!" said Mabel, at the beginning, middle, and end of Clarence's case. "Git that through your head."

"What makes you think that's what I have in mind?" he bawled, with guilt written all over his face. "All I want to do is look at some very cheap land!"

They drove south out of the Queen City on Highway 65 to Ozark, the county seat of Christian County. There H. B. Jakes stuffed them into his car and drove east on Highway 14 to Sparta, where the road narrowed considerably and became very crooked and full of pot holes. The children were as excited as Clarence, for different reasons, of course; but Mabel sat straight and stiff, with her eyes on the country ahead. All signs of farming operations and improvements of any kind ceased just south of Sparta, but an occasional shanty peeped at them through the trees. Once she spotted something large moving in a thicket of tall bushes.

"What road are we on now?" asked Clarence. "I haven't seen a sign of a sign for a long time."

"This is the main road into the hills," said Mr. Jakes, happily. "I reckon it don't have no name, though."