"Well, you won't," she prophesied. "I never knew anyone who lived on a farm to have a minute's time for anything but the hardest kind of work. Even in winter when the crops are in, there's wood to get out and cut and the animals to be fed and bedded down and the fires to look after and paths to be opened and the milking to be done. It's one thing after another, all the year round." Richard put one arm around the porch pillar. "It could be different," he insisted. "For instance, you could buy bread--you just said so. That would save you some time." "Which I should feel duty-bound to use in canning more fruit," countered Mrs. Hildreth promptly. "I'm not so keen on work, but the way I'm made, I feel guilty if I waste a half hour." "It isn't wasting time to have a little enjoyment and leisure," Richard declared doggedly. "Is it, Jack?" Jack a moment before had struck his hand against the porch railing, a light tap, scarcely to be noticed. But his face was white as he turned savagely on Richard. "Work is the only thing that counts and you know it," he said fiercely. "The crops and the crops alone, are to be considered. If you kill yourself getting them in, that's a small matter; next year someone else will plant 'em again and perhaps kill himself, too." "Dear me, Jack, maybe you have a little touch of the sun," said Mrs. Hildreth. "I think the doctor had better give you something to make you sleep. You will, won't you, Doctor Willis?" the good woman urged anxiously. "I'm all right," said Jack. "Well, I'm sure I hope so," she returned in a voice that was far from sounding convinced. "Mr. Hildreth had a brother who had a sunstroke once and he wasn't right for years. Were you working in a blaze to-day, Jack?" "He wore a hat," said Richard quickly, fearful that Jack's scant supply of patience would be utterly exhausted. "Besides, there was a breeze in the afternoon. It wasn't a bad day at all, Mrs. Hildreth." "Don't you want to sit down, Mrs. Hildreth?" suggested Rosemary, wondering how anyone could remain standing so long, after being on her feet virtually all day. "No, I'm going down the road in a minute," Mrs. Hildreth answered. "I want to ask Mrs. Tice about some new kind of rubber rings she got for her jars. How much fruit did Winnie put up so far, Rosemary?" "Why--I don't believe I know," said Rosemary with a little laugh. "She made jelly, I remember and she's been canning nearly every week; but I don't know how many quarts or pints she has. Do you, Hugh?" "Never counted," acknowledged the doctor lazily. "I'll warrant Winnie can tell you right off the reel, Mrs. Hildreth. She's proud of her success--I heard her tell my mother so." "I'll step over and look at her shelves some day," promised Mrs. Hildreth. "Dear me, I'm tired. But if I don't go to Bertha's now, I'll never get there. Tell Mr. Hildreth I'll be right back, if he asks you where I am."