Ploughing 23 



bands, he smiled and drew a long breath then 

 said, nodding his head : " You '11 stand up to 

 it, nice girls ! " And then all at once, he was 

 so hungry he thought almost enviously of Dan 

 and his corn-cake. He was thirsty too — 

 thirsty enough to make the image of the spring 

 half a mile away very tantalizing. With a 

 quick turn, he checked the mules, looped the 

 line over the left plough-handle, and ran to 

 the bushes where he had left his runlet. 



As he reached for it, something caught his 

 hand, pinching hard, and somebody said sepul- 

 chrally : " Boo hoo ! the snappin' turtle got 

 you that time." He parted the brush, and 

 there was Patsy, his tomboy sister, balancing 

 by her elbows upon the edges of the sink-hole, 

 and kicking her feet against the sides of it. 

 Joe was fond of her, but not nearly as fond as 

 he would have been if she had not happened 

 to be so very like himself. He had ideas 

 about girls. They ought to mind about things 

 — especially their frocks, he thought — and 

 be afraid of things, particularly such things as 

 snakes and freckles and guns. Patsy was not 

 even afraid of fishing worms. She baited her 

 own hook when they went fishing together. 

 What was much worse — she usually caught 

 bigger fish. 



" You "re tryin' to get snake-bit," Joe said, 

 as sternly as he could speak. 



