"Well, now, I like the look of ye," called the old mother from the porch, where she still sat. "'Pears like it's done ye good a-ready to turn planter. The' hain't nothin' better'n the smell o' new sile fer them 'at's consumpted." "Mother," cried Cassandra from within, "don't call the doctor that! Come up and have dinner with us, Doctor." She set a chair for him as she spoke, but he would not. As he stood below them, looking up and exchanging merry banter with her mother, he laughed his contagious laugh. "I bet he's tired," shrilled Hoyle, from his perch on the porch roof. "He be'n settin' on the fence smokin' an' rubbin' his hade with his handkercher like he'd had enough with his ploughin'. You can nigh about beat him, Cass. Hisn didn't look no better'n what yourn looked." "Here, you young rascal you, come down from there," cried David. Catching him by the foot, which hung far enough over to be within reach of his long arm, he pulled him headlong from his high position and caught him in mid-air. "Now, how shall I punish you?" "Ye bettah whollop him. He hain't nevah been switched good in his hull life. Maybe that's what ails him." The child grinned. "I hain't afeared. Get me down on the ground oncet, an' I c'n run faster'n he can." "Suppose I duck him in the water trough yonder?" "I reckon he needs it. He generally do," smiled Cassandra from the doorway. "Come, son, go wash up." David allowed the child to slip to the ground. "Seems like Hoyle is right enough about you, though. Don't go away up the hill; bide here and have dinner first." David dropped on the step for a moment's rest. "I see I must make a way up to my cabin that will not pass your door. How about that? Was dinner included in the rent, and the mule and the mule's dinner? And what is Hoyle going to pay me for allowing him to ride Pete up and down while I plough?" "Yas, an' what are ye goin' to give him fer 'lowin' ye to set his hade round straight, an' what are ye goin' to give me fer 'lowin' ye to set me on my laigs again? Ef ye go a-countin' that-a-way, I'm 'feared ye're layin' up a right smart o' debt to we-uns. I reckon you'll use that mule all ye want to, an' ye'll lick him good, too, when he needs hit, an' take keer o' yourself, fer he's a mean critter; an' ye'll keep that path right whar hit is, fer hit goes with the farm long's you bide up yandah." "You good people have the best of me; we'll call it all even. Ever since I leaped off that train in the snow, I have been dependent on you for my comfort. Well, I must hurry on; since I've turned farmer I'm a busy man. Can you suggest any one I might get to do that ploughing? Miss Cassandra here may be able to do it without help, but I confess I'm not equal to it."