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Anyway, your uncle burst into a roar of laughter. 'Hattie, he said, 'my farm's too big. I'm going to sell some of it, and enjoy myself a little more. That very week he sold fifty acres, and he hired an extra man, and got me a good girl, and twice a week he left his work in the afternoon and took me for a drive.
"She does have failings," said Uli, "and is mighty sensitive too. But if she once has a good husband and has enough to do to keep her busy, so that she could forget herself now and then, she'd surely improve. Not that she can't ever be friendly. She can act very prettily at times; and if the farm's properly worked one can get at least ten thousand sheaves from it, not counting rye and wheat."
"Not but what my man's good enough, but he don't seem to get along, somehow. The farm's wore out, and the mortgage comes around so regular." "Where do you live?" asked Victoria, suddenly growing serious. "Fitch's place. 'Tain't very far from the Four Corners, on the Avalon road." "And you are Mrs. Fitch?" "Callate to be," said the mother. "If it ain't askin' too much, I'd like to know your name."
The first few days it gave them more to do, for the animals fought until they got to know one another. They were never wholly mingled; they always grazed in patches, each farm's flock by itself. The dinner-baskets were also put together, and one boy was appointed in turn to mind the whole herd. The other boys played at robbers up among the rocks, or ran about in the woods or on the shore.
The dust rose up, transformed into gold by the light of the setting sun. The children fell asleep in their tired mothers' arms. The men shouted to each other from team to team, discussing the speakers and the crops. Smiles were few as each wagon turned into its gateway and rolled up to the silent house. The sombre shadow of the farm's drudgery had fallen again on faces unused to smiling.
"With any other doctor she'd have been dead long since: leave her to herself a little, and the farm's your own; and I'm sure there'll 've been nothing at all like murder between us." "By Heavens, he does!" and Colligan rose quickly from his seat "he means to have her murdered, and thinks to make me do the deed!
"What's this?" exclaimed Uncle John, who had narrowly escaped biting his tongue through and through. "Why did you turn down here?" "It's the road," returned the driver, with a chuckle; "it's the cobble-stone lane to yer farm, an' the farm's 'bout the same sort o' land as the lane." For a few moments the passengers maintained a dismal silence.
"Between the Toughs at that end and our heatguns at this end, we ought to be able to force them back below without much trouble. Are we ready to move out?" A different voice came in over the intercom, the voice of the tenth Master, who was on duty in the farm's control room. "Placer, the screens show three groundcars moving up from the south," he said.
"We could do with a new harrow," said Aaron, "only there's no way to pay for it." Mr. Jeminy shook the reins over Elijah's back. "I have a little money," he began, "laid away . . ." "You're very kind," said Aaron, "but I don't figure to take advantage of it. Still, living's hard; so much trouble. Take me; here I am bound down to a farm's got as many rocks in it as anything else.
But the worst time is really the autumn, when the tourists are all rushing to get home again, and it's quite impossible to do the harvesting undisturbed. It's almost become a custom here now, my husband says, for the cotters to get half the harvest of the farm's outlying fields." On my wondering at Mrs.
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