114 Old Days on the Farm 



don't always go jest as ye figure. As Bobbie 

 Burns puts it — 



''The best laid plans o' *» 



mice an' men 

 Gang aft a-gley." 



''The handle o' my cradle played dirl against 

 a rotten stump when out swarmed a hive o' the 

 liveliest bumble-bees that ever gathered honey. I 

 got off with a few stings, but before the pesky 

 things quieted down so I could work, Jim was 

 half the length of the field ahead. 



"Bees er hornets, er yellow- jackets fer Jim, is 

 the only thing that'll save me, says I to myself. 

 But no such luck. 



"By noon Jim was a clean swath ahead an' 

 it looked as if he had a sure thing. 



"Hot, well I guess so. Woods on two sides o' 

 the field an' not a breath of wind stirrin'. We 

 were both as wet as if we'd been doused in the 

 creek. By arrangement we 'd to take a clear hour 

 at noon an' we sat under a tree eatin' an' restin' 

 an' sizin' up each other. 



" 'Purty nigh all in, are ye?' says Jim as I 

 stretched out like a lazy schoolboy under a tree 

 an' closed my eyes. 



" 'Oh, don't worry,' says I. *I'll waken up on 

 time. ' 



"At one o'clock we started in an' I went out to 

 the battle in my stockin' feet. I had on a pair o' 

 long boots — I was always fond o' top boots ever 



