PATRICK O'HARA AND SI BOOTH 327 



" We start to-morrow morning." 



*' But do you think I ought to start ? " I asked. 

 " My wheat has barely turned in places, and since 

 we have had winter nearly all the summer, mightn't 

 we reasonably expect a dash of the saving grace of 

 summer now ? " 



" We shall get it," he answered with a rather 

 weary smile. " The Indian summer — after the 

 frost." 



" But it seems so unreal — Harvest ! and I haven't 

 seen a solitary yellow field ! " 



" And you won't see one this year," he said, " it 

 will be a green harvest all right. George Seymour 

 cut a week ago ; it was always his father's plan. 

 He is making huge stooks so that it can ripen good 

 and slow in stook, and I guess he'll get the pull of 

 us all. It's all up — don't wait. No farmer can 

 afford to wait in this country when once September 



is m. 



(( 



Well, you should all know better than I. If 

 you are intending to cut immediately, I ought not 

 to wait," I said ; " only it seems to me that the 

 sun cannot fail this glorious crop." 



On the following day I made arrangements with 

 a man to come that night and start on the oats the 

 following morning. He failed to appear. I waited 

 until nine o'clcok. It was a glorious day, perfect 

 harvest weather, and the oats at any rate were just 

 ready for the reaper. I walked over the newly 

 broken field on which Si Booth was finishing his last 

 stroke of the harrows. 



" What will you charge me to take off the crops ? " 

 I asked him. " I can't afford to hire horses, as you 

 know, with an expensive season behind me and with 



