HAPPY HOLLOW FARM 227 



board for the week, and he'd done work enough 

 to set him three dollars ahead ; so he had a fine, 

 large, easy feeling that didn't match up at all 

 with the labor of the harvest field. Another 

 of the men did quit after an hour's work in 

 the afternoon. He had to go into town and 

 loaf a little while on the "square" before the 

 day was done. That's a firmer habit here on 

 Saturday afternoons than going to church on 

 Sunday. Pretty soon another hand laid off. 

 Whenever one of them stopped Sam quickened 

 his own gait to make up. He didn't speak his 

 impatience, as another man might have done; 

 he just shut his mouth and worked. The wheat 

 was all in stack when night fell. The last 

 bundles went up in murky half -darkness ; but 

 the job was done. 



Sam was tired when he brought up the team 

 to the watering trough at the well. He didn't 

 have to tell me; I knew. While the beasts 

 drank he lounged wearily on the end of the 

 trough, looking away across the twilight fields. 

 He wasn't saying a word, but there was an 

 air about him of temper smoldering. 



"Well," I said, "it's finished anyway. 

 That's some comfort." 



He grinned. It takes a pretty good man to 



