Children -- Death -- Juvenile fiction; Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Farm life -- Juvenile fiction; Siblings -- Juvenile fiction
"Do you find time for reading here in the midst of your
ploughing, Mr. Winthrop?"
"Not much -- sometimes a little in the noon-spell," he
answered, colouring slightly.
They left him and walked on to visit Rufus. Elizabeth led near
enough to the tree to make sure, what her keen eye knew pretty
well already, that one of the books was the very identical old
brown-covered Greek and Latin dictionary that she had seen in
the boat. She passed on and stood silent by Rufus's plough.
"Well, we've come to see you, Rufus," said Miss Cadwallader.
"I thought you had come to see my brother," said he.
"I didn't come to see either one or the other," said
Elizabeth. "I came to see what you are doing."
"I hope you are gratified," said the young man a little
tartly.
"What's the use of taking so much trouble to break up the
ground?" said Rose.
"Because, unfortunately, there is no way of doing it without
trouble," said Rufus, looking unspoken bright things into the
furrow at his feet.
"But why couldn't you just make holes in the ground and put
the seed in?"
"For a reason that you will appreciate, Miss Rose, if you will
put on your bonnet the wrong way, with the front precisely
where the back should be."
"I don't understand," -- said the young lady, with something of
an inclination to pout, Will's face was so full of
understanding.
"It isn't necessary that you should understand such a
business," he said, becoming grave. "It is our fortune to do
it, and it is yours to have nothing to do with it, -- which is
much better."
"I have the happiness to disagree with you, Mr. Rufus," said
Elizabeth.
"In what?"
"In thinking that we have nothing to do with it, or that it is
not necessary we should understand it."
"I don't see the happiness, Miss Elizabeth; for your
disagreement imposes upon you a necessity which I should think
better avoided."
"Which ploughs the best, Rufus?" said Rose; -- "you or
Winthrop?"
"There is one kind of ploughing," said Rufus biting his lip,
"which Winthrop doesn't understand at all."
"And you understand them all, I suppose?"
He didn't answer.
"What is the kind he does not understand, Mr. Rufus?" said
Elizabeth.
"Ploughing with another man's heifer."
"Why, what's that, Rufus? I don't know what you mean," said
Miss Cadwallader.
No more did Elizabeth, and she had no mind to engage the
speaker on unequal terms. She called her cousin off and took
the road home, leaving Winifred to speak to her brother and
follow at her leisure.
"How different those two people are," she remarked.
"Which one do you like best?"
"Winthrop, a great deal."
"I know you like him the best," said her cousin wilfully.
"Of course you do, for I tell you."
"_I_ don't. I like the other a great deal the best."
"He wasn't very glad to see us," said Elizabeth.
"Why wasn't he? Yes he was. He was as glad as the other one."
"The other one didn't care twopence about it."
"And what did this one care?"
"He cared, --" said Elizabeth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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