“I was reading somewhere,” said I, “that in Germany, where they learn to be economical from the beginning, the navy is supported—or else it’s the army is supported entirely on the hay that Americans would leave in the corners and the by-ways. I’ve no doubt that the Emperor William commands his people in a heaven-sent message to get out their nail scissors and cut the little blades in the remote corners that nothing be lost, and as ‘mony a mickle maks a muckle,’ he pays for his army out of the hay crop that would become withered grass with us. Now to-morrow, when we go over to help the Windhams, you must remember to account each blade of grass as equal in value to any other blade.” “What will Mr. Windham say to women working?” “Well, the idea! Ethel. Did any Yankee farmer ever object to women working? And isn’t it better to work out-of-doors than to work indoors? I’d rather you lifted forkfuls of hay than have you lift heavy mattresses and furniture and things, and it’s better to rake hay than to sweep floors.” “When Philip gets on a topic like that, the best thing to do is to just let him talk it out,” said Ethel. “Don’t say a word, and he’ll burn up for lack of fuel.” “Which is a logical remark,” said I. “But it will be too perfectly delightful to go out like Boaz and glean.” “You may possibly mean Ruth,” said I. “I do. I always mix them up. Boaz seems like a woman’s name. Do you think it will rain to-morrow?” “To-morrow,” said I, with a glance at the west where the sun, a red ball, was disappearing in a cloudless sky, “will be a good hay day.” And to-morrow was. We rose and breakfasted early and found when we looked at the thermometer that it was already 78, but there was a west wind blowing to temper the heat. “They’re already at work, aren’t they?” said Cherry as we started out, the women clad in walking skirts and shirt-waists and broad-brimmed hats, and I bare headed and outing shirted. “My dear child, they have been at work for the last four hours.” I had told Windham what to expect, and when he saw us coming he said, “That’s right. The more the merrier. You’ll find rakes there by the fence.” I told him that I would mow a little, as I had done it when a boy. “Good work,” said he, and let me take his own scythe while he drove a loaded wagon home.