The corn gave forth its sweet smell, and Diana dished it up. What was the use of taking so much trouble, she thought, as ear after ear, white and fair, came out of the pot? Yet Diana had enjoyed the notion of making this variety in the lunch. The coffee steamed forth its fragrance upon the air; and Diana poured it into prepared cups of cream and sugar which others brought and carried away; she was glad to stand by the fire if only she might. How the people drank coffee! Before the cups were once filled the first time, they began to come back for the second; and the second, Diana knew, would not satisfy some of the farmers and farmers' wives there. So pot after pot of the rich beverage had to be made. It wearied her; but she would rather do that than anything else. And she had expected this picnic to be such a pleasant time! And it had turned out such a failure. Standing by her camp fire, where the ascending column of grey smoke veiled her from observation, Diana could look off and see the wide landscape of hill and valley spread out below and around. Not a house; not another wreath of smoke; not a cornfield; hollows of beauty with nothing but their own green growth and the sunshine in them; hill-tops fair and lovely, but without a fence that told of human ownership or a road that spoke of human sympathy. Was life like that, Diana wondered? Yet surely that landscape had never looked dreary to her before. "Mrs. Starling will have another cup of coffee, Miss Diana." Diana started. What should bring Mr. Knowlton to wait upon her mother's cups of coffee? She sugared and creamed, and poured out in silence. "May I come presently and have some?" "Haven't you had any?" "Just enough to make me want more. I never saw such good coffee in my life." "You are accustomed to West Point fare." "It's not that, though. I know a good thing when I see it." "When you taste it, I suppose," said Diana; preparing his cup, however, she knew, with extra care. "I assure you," said Mr. Knowlton expressively, as he stirred it, "I _have_ appreciation for better things than coffee. I always want the best, in every kind; and I know the thing when I see it." "I make no doubt you can have it," said Diana coolly, turning away. "Hullo, Diany!" said Mr. Carpenter on the other side,--"you're coming it strong to-day. Got no one to help ye? Sha'n't I fetch 'Lizy? she's big enough to do som'thin'. I vow I want another cup. You see, it's hard work, is picking blackberries. I ain't master here; and my wife, she keeps me hard at it. Can't dewolve the duty on no one, neither; she sees if I ain't got my pail filled by the time she's got her'n, and I tell you! I catch it. It makes me sweat, this kind of work; and that makes me kind o' dry. I'll be obleeged to you for another cup. You needn't to put no milk into it!" "It's strong, Mr. Carpenter." "Want it, I tell you! working under orders this way makes a man feel kind o' feeble."