"
"It is very tiresome, isn't it?" said Ellen.
"It's the tiresomest work that ever was, for a man that has
two arms to be a-doing nothing, day after day. And what
bothers me is the wheat in the ten-acre lot, that _ought_ to be
prostrated too, and ain't, nor ain't like to be, as I know,
unless the rain comes and does it. Sam and Johnny'll make no
headway at all with it — I can tell as well as if I see 'em."
"But Sam is good, isn't he?" said Ellen.
"Sam's as good a boy as ever was; but then Johnny Low is
mischievous, you see, and he gets Sam out of his tracks once
in a while. I never see a finer growth of wheat. I had a sight
rather cut and harvest the hull of it than to lie here and
think of it getting spoiled. I'm a'most out o' conceit o'
trap-doors, Ellen."
Ellen could not help smiling.
"What can I do for you, Mr. Van Brunt?"
"There ain't nothing," said he; — "I wish there was. How are
you coming along at home?"
"I don't know," said Ellen — "I am not there just now, you
know; I am staying up with Miss Alice again."
"Oh, ay! while her brother's at home. He's a splendid man,
that young Mr. Humphreys, ain't he?"
"Oh, _I_ knew that a great while ago," said Ellen, the bright
colour of pleasure overspreading her face.
"Well, _I_ didn't, you see, till the other day, when he came
here, very kindly, to see how I was getting on. I wish
something would bring him again.
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