THE BAPTISM OF DIRT 



tatoes, to a distant group, consisting of two men 

 and a woman, who were digging away mechani 

 cally. 



&quot; Good day, friends,&quot; said the Doctor, breezily; 

 &quot; we are strangers and have lost our way.&quot; 



One of the men leaned on his hoe and looked 

 us over. The others went on with their work. 



&quot; Where do you want to go ? &quot; the man asked. 



&quot; Anywhere, my friend, so that we can get a 

 supper and a night s lodging. We are on a bit 

 of a jaunt for our health and have lost our bear 

 ings.&quot; The Doctor pulled out a very handsome 

 watch and looked at it. &quot; It s a quarter of five,&quot; 

 he said. &quot; Perhaps you can direct us so that we 

 can reach the nearest stopping-place before night.&quot; 



I could not very well suppress a feeling of pity 

 as the man wiped the sweat from his face with a 

 cotton handkerchief and regarded us with a dull 

 astonishment. He must have been sixty years 

 old. His hard sinewy hands were like tangled 

 roots, his face was tanned to a mahogany colour, 

 so that the white hairs on it looked grizzly. He 

 wore an old torn felt hat, and he took it off and 

 fanned himself as he said : 



&quot; Wanderin around loose, hey ? Which way 

 was you pointin ? &quot; 



The Doctor looked at me, and we both laughed. 

 It would not do to tell this pragmatic rustic that 

 we had abandoned all definite intentions. 



&quot; We were examining the country,&quot; said the 

 Doctor, with magnificent indefiniteness. &quot; Isn t 

 there a mill somewheres about ? &quot; 



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