HINDRANCES AND. HELPS 



no "wee-tipped" daisies to beguile him; not a 

 mouse is stirring; only a pestilent mosquito is 

 twanging somewhere behind his left ear, and 

 a fine aromatic powder rises from the dusty 

 stubble and tickles his nostrils. So he comes 

 to the headland once more and the can; if he 

 had a copy of Burns in his pocket, it might be 

 pleasant for the fine young fellow to lie off 

 under the shade for a while, and "improve his 

 mind." But he has no Burns — in fact, no 

 pocket in his overalls; besides which, the sea- 

 son is getting late; he must finish his acre of 

 ploughing. Over and over he eyes the sun — 

 it is very slow of getting to its height, and 

 when noon comes it finds him in a very drag- 

 gled and wilty state ; but he mounts one of the 

 horses, and the mate clattering after, he leads 

 ofif to the barn and the baiting. He has a 

 sharp appetite for the beef and the greens, but 

 not much, at the noon, for Burns or Bishop 

 Butler. The return to the field haunts him; 

 but the work is only half done. Rubbing his 

 puffy hands with a raw onion (by the advice 

 of Pat), he enters bravely upon a new bout of 

 the ploughing. The sun is even more search- 

 ing than in the morning; the mosquitoes have 

 come in flocks; the bunion, aggravated by the 

 morning's pebble, angers him sorely, and de- 



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