country there was no apparent reason why Henry Ford should not return to his work in the m

fe. Farmers remarked to each other, while they sat in their granaries husking corn, that Henry had come to his senses and knew when he was

ed the prevailing opinion; his interest in mechanic

the plans for the watch factory, but the thought of her was always tugging at his mind, urging

e, and already it had met the worst enemy of ambition-love. It was a choice between his work

Detroit," Henry announced to t

do better here in the long run than you can in the city. If you want to take

ht," Hen

ed to all of them only an ep

window panes showed only a square of darkness, sparkling with frost crystals, he built up the kitchen fire for Margar

s and fences, covered with snow, showed odd shapes in the

ry hung his lantern on a nail and set to work. He pitched down hay and huge forksful of straw; he measured out rations of bran and corn and oats; he

es and turning corn cakes. The other boys came tramping in from poultry yards and hog pens. They took tur

rn stalls, whitewashed the hen houses, sorted the apples in the cellar. In the shop Henry worked at the fa

calves' yard with hay, spread deep beds of straw for the horses, seen that everything was snug and

e was minded to divide her favor evenly among them until some indefinite time in the future, when, as she said, "she would see." Often

would spend the evening talking politics with him while Cla

n cushiony springs, slipping over the snow on smooth steel runners.

sparkled white on either hand, here and there lights gleamed from farm houses. Then the sleigh slipped into the woods, still and dark, except where th

ice in long, smooth flight, their skates ringing. Or it happened that Henry stood warming his

' trade journals, for his interest in machinery was still strong, but he planned nothin

ry girl who could not make up her mind to choose between her suitors. The winter

d at work. Until the pressure of farm work was over he could see Clara only on Sundays. Then summer arrived, with picnics and the old custom of bringi

ng folks that Henry Ford was "going with" Clara Bryant. But she must still h

t over his bank account, a respectable sum, made up of his earn

d one day, "I guess I'

uess. I'll give you that south forty, and you can have lumber

re was an unconscious feeling that he had spent enough time in courtship; he was impatient to get back to

eenfield, Clara with plans for the new house on the south forty already sketched in a tablet in her su

e," he says to-day. And adds, with his wh