"Now, if there were only some hooks or pegs here,"
thought Ellen, "to hang up dresses on; — but why shouldn't I
drive some nails? I will! I will! Oh, that'll be fine!"
Unfastening her door in a hurry, she ran down stairs; and her
heart beating, between pleasure and the excitement of daring
so far without her aunt's knowledge, she ran out and crossed
the chip-yard to the barn, where she had some hope of finding
Mr. Van Brunt. By the time she got to the little cowhouse
door, a great noise of knocking or pounding in the barn made
her sure he was there, and she went on to the lower barn-
floor. There he was, he and the two farm-boys (who, by-the-by,
were grown men), all three threshing wheat. Ellen stopped at
the door, and for a minute forgot what she had come for in the
pleasure of looking at them. The clean floor was strewn with
grain, upon which the heavy flails came down one after
another, with quick, regular beat — one — two — three — one —
two — three, — keeping perfect time. The pleasant sound could
be heard afar off; though, indeed, where Ellen stood, it was
rather too loud to be pleasant. Her little voice had no chance
of being heard; she stood still and waited. Presently, Johnny,
who was opposite, caught a sight of her, and, without stopping
his work, said to his leader, "Somebody there for you, Mr. Van
Brunt." That gentleman's flail ceased its motion, then he
threw it down, and went to the door to help Ellen up the high
step.
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