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Updated: June 24, 2025
Even before the school term ended we began to take a hand at this work, after four o'clock and on Saturdays. While the hired man and father ran the cross-cut saw, whose pleasant song had much of the seed-time suggestion which vibrated in the caw-caw of the hens as they burrowed in the dust of the chip-yard, I split the easy blocks and my brother helped to pile the finished product.
I buried my head in my apron, for I thought that our time was come, and that all was lost, when a most terrific crash of thunder burst over our heads, and, like the breaking of a water-spout, down came the rushing torrent of rain which had been pent up for so many weeks. In a few minutes the chip-yard was all afloat, and the fire effectually checked.
They went out of the barn-yard and across the chip-yard to an out-house below the garden, and not far from the spout, called the poultry-house; though it was quite as much the property of the hogs, who had a regular sleeping apartment there, where corn was always fed out to the fatting ones. Opening a kind of granary store-room, where the corn for this purpose was stowed, Mr.
Pap Overholt sprang to the hearth where even in the midsummer months a log smoulders throughout the day, to be brightened into a cheery blaze mornings and evenings, seized a brand, one or two of the others following his example, and ran through the doorway, across the little chip-yard, making for the low-browed log barn and the grain-room beside it. None who witnessed that scene ever forgot it.
A little while after, Ellen was standing at the window, from which, through the shed window, she had a view of the chip-yard, and there she saw Nancy lingering still, walking round and round in a circle, and kicking the snow with her feet in a discontented fashion. "I am very glad she isn't going to be here," thought Ellen. "But, poor thing! I dare say she is very much disappointed.
The mellow light of an Indian summer afternoon lay upon the meadow and the old barn and chip-yard; there was beauty in them all under its smile. Not a breath was stirring.
The Brownie! the Brownie! the thought of him carried her as cleverly over the ground as his very back would have done. She came running into the chip-yard. "Hollo!" cried Mr. Van Brunt, who was standing under the apple-tree, cutting a piece of wood for the tongue of the ox- cart, which had been broken "I'm glad to see you can run.
Not the square-boxed wagon, with old Sorrel attached; the former was standing quietly in the chip-yard behind the low red house, while the latter with his nose over the barnyard fence, neighing occasionally, as if he missed the little hands which had daily fed him the oatmeal he liked so much, and which now lay hot and parched and helpless upon the white counterpane Grandma Markham had spun and woven herself.
Ellen stood warming herself at the blaze, when it suddenly darted into her head that it was milking time. In another minute she had thrown open the door and was running across the chip-yard to the barn.
Ellen was standing by the little gate that opened on the chip-yard; and with her heart beating anxiously, she watched the slow-coming oxen; how slowly they came! At last they turned out of the lane, and drew the cart up the ascent; and stopping beneath the apple tree, Mr. Van Brunt leisurely got down, and flinging back his whip, came to the gate.
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