Didactic fiction; Roe, Edward Payson, 1838-1888; Short stories
The farmer was shaken with mirth, and Sue could not help seeing that he
was having a good time. She, however, felt that no tranquilly exciting
day was before her, as she had anticipated. What wouldn't that muscular
fellow attempt before night? He possessed a sort of vim and cheerful
audacity which made her tremble, "He is too confident," she thought,
"and needs a lesson. All this digging is like that of soldiers who soon
mean to drop their shovels. I don't propose to be carried by storm just
when he gets ready. He can have his lark, and that's all to-day. I want
a good deal of time to think before I surrender to him or any one else."
During the remainder of the forenoon these musings prevented the
slightest trace of sentimentality from appearing in her face or words.
She had to admit mentally that Minturn gave her no occasion for
defensive tactics. He attended as strictly to business as did Hiram,
and she was allowed to come and go at will. At first she merely
ventured to the house, to "help mother," as she said. Then, with
growing confidence, she went here and there to select sites for trees;
but Minturn dug on no longer "like a steam-engine," yet in an easy,
steady, effective way that was a continual surprise to the farmer.
"Well, Sue," said her father at last, "you and mother ought to have an
extra dinner; for Mr. Minturn certainly has earned one."
"I promised him only a dinner," she replied; "nothing was said about
its being extra."
"Quantity is all I'm thinking of," said Minturn. "I have the sauce
which will make it a feast."
"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.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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