Two Harvesters 
Another load was brought. It held more than 
enough to finish the rick. Before starting on 
it, the four men knocked off for tea and to milk 
the cows. There was no urgency. The weather 
was set fair. One more dry day and the harvest- 
ing would be over. 
After the great glare outside, the cow-stalls 
looked almost dim, spite of the reflected light 
through the open doors. It was pleasant to 
stand listening to the continuous spurt of milk 
into the pails. In one corner of the stall was a 
heap of new hay, most fragrant. What a couch! 
Again the idea of harvest idylls came to me. 
About the hour when afternoon begins plainly 
to turn to evening we went back to the rick- 
building, across the pasture and the potato-field, 
Mr. Smith chatting the while. He was full of 
praises of the weather: such a wonderful season ! 
All the crops had come strong and clean. The 
hay had been first class; these oats were good; 
and yet, with all the abundance, so splendid 
had the summer been that no extra strength had 
been wanted on the farm. “ Except,” the son 
reminded him, “‘two women for hay-making.”’ 
Yes, the farmer conceded that. Certainly he 
had put on two women, anda man—a stranger 
—for a fortnight. But that was all. There 
had been no hindrances. The good crops had 
cost less to gather than many a poor one. 
77 
