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No, I have been talking with a man who wants to take the whole farm for two years upon shares that will clear me of all trouble." There was sober silence for a few minutes, and then Mrs. Rossitur asked who it was. "His name is Didenhover." "O uncle Rolf, don't have anything to do with him!" exclaimed Fleda. "Why not?" "Because he lived with grandpa a great while ago, and behaved very ill.
Fleda had before this found out another fault in the harness, or rather in Mr. Didenhover, which like a wise little child she kept to herself. A broken place which her grandfather had ordered to be properly mended, was still tied up with the piece of rope which had offended her eyes the last time they had driven out.
"What is the reason?" "Why this man Didenhover is a rogue I suspect, and he manages to spirit away all the profits that should come to uncle Rolf's hands I don't know how. We have lived almost entirely upon the mill for some time." "And has my father been doing nothing all this while?" "Nothing on the farm." "And what of anything else?"
Rossitur, more low-spirited and gloomy than ever, seemed to have no heart to anything. He would have worked perhaps if he could have done it alone; but to join Didenhover and his men, or any other gang of workmen, was too much for his magnanimity. He helped nobody but Fleda.
The man disappeared and came out again. "There's your paper, grandpa," said Fleda. "Ay, and something else," said Mr. Ringgan: "I declare! 'Miss Fleda Ringgan care of E. Ringgan, Esq. There, dear, there it is." "Paris!" exclaimed Fleda, as she clasped the letter and both her hands together. The butternuts and Mr. Didenhover were forgotten at last.
He has put them together, ready to be carried off to his nest." "We'll save him that trouble," said Mr. Carleton. "Little rascal! he's a Didenhover in miniature." "Oh, no!" said Fleda; "he had as good a right to the nuts, I am sure, as we have, poor fellow. Mr. Carleton " Mr. Carleton was throwing the nuts into the basket.
Didenhover aint fetched any of this year's home; so I made a bargain with 'em, they shouldn't starve as long as they'd eat boiled pursley." "What do you give them?" "Most everything they aint particular now-a-days chunks o' cabbages, and scarcity, and pun'kin, and that all the sass that aint wanted." "And do they eat that?" "Eat it!" said Barby; "they don't know how to thank me for't."
"I do not see how those who honour the authority of the Bible and the character of Jesus Christ can deny the truth of his own declaration. If that is false so must those be." Fleda took the Bible and hurriedly sought out another passage. "Grandpa shewed me these places," she said, "once when we were talking about Mr. Didenhover he didn't believe that.
I always told your grandpa he'd ha' saved himself a great deal o' trouble if he'd ha' let Earl Douglass take hold of things. You ha'n't got Mr. Didenhover into the works again I guess, have you? He was there a good spell after your grandpa died." "I haven't seen Mrs. Douglass," said Fleda. "But Cynthy, what do you think I have come here for?"
"Would it be any use, grandpa, for me to jump down and run and tell them you don't want them to take the butternuts? I shall have so few." "No, dear, no," said her grandfather, "they have got 'em about all by this time; the mischief's done. Didenhover meant to let 'em have 'em unknown to me, and pocket the pay himself. Get up!"
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