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The clipping this text was read from
The clipping this text was read from

set it up in a new hole in the hay field, I saw the neatly finished nest at the bottom of the box. There were six pale blue eggs inside. A pity, I thought, but the farm’s water supply comes first.

I walked back, opened the red cover on the well and looked down there. Maybe the break was under the ground, buried somewhere between the well and the house. I dug small test pits one by one to find which way the water was running, until I stood right on top of where I thought the break was.

My grandfather would have been proud, for when I dug the hole I was only three inches away from the break. And it was a deep, round, neat hole. A neighbor from Culpeper who dropped by thought I was planting a tree! He looked down the hole and told me how to cut the burst pipe with a hacksaw, and how to join the good parts with a “union" and stainless steel screw-clamps.

The job went fairly smoothly, but it was cold and muddy. At one point, while I was down in the hole, the gander came over from the flower bed and looked in with its sharp beak uncomfortably close to my head. Fortunately it was not in an “attack mode” that day. Perhaps it was looking for worms, or maybe it was just plain curious. This

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