"
"Beckon it's gwine on twelve," said Hiram, cocking his eye at the
sun. "Hadn't I better feed de critters?"
"Ah, old man! own up, now; you've got a backache," said Minturn.
"Dere is kin' ob a crik comin'--"
"Drop work, all hands," cried Sue. "Mr. Minturn has a 'crik' also,
but he's too proud to own it. How you'll groan for this to-morrow,
sir!"
"If you take that view of the case, I may be under the necessity
of giving proof positive to the contrary by coming out to-morrow."
"You're not half through yet. The hardest part is to come."
"Oh, I know that," he replied; and he gave her such a humorously
appealing glance that she turned quickly toward the house to hide
a conscious flush.
The farmer showed him to the spare-room, in which he found his
belongings. Left to make his toilet, he muttered, "Ah, better and
better! This is not the regulation refrigerator into which guests
are put at farmhouses. All needed for solid comfort is here, even
to a slight fire in the air-tight. Now, isn't that rosy old lady a
jewel of a mother-in-law? She knows that a warm man shouldn't get
chilled just as well as if she had studied athletics.
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