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"Wait until Edith gets you some clothes and then go out to the old icehouse and change them. Leave the clothes you have on out there, because you'll never be able to wear them again." Ruth, who had been trying hard to control her feelings, now broke into sobs, for she had only one farmerette suit and this meant the loss of it. "It was such an innocent-looking kitten, too," she said.

So he's still puzzling over what he regards as an anomaly, a farmerette who knows the difference between De Bussey and a side-delivery horse-rake, a mother of three children who can ride a pinto and play a banjo, a clodhopper in petticoats who can talk about Ragusa and Toarmina and the summer races at Piping Rock.

"Aunt Bettie said she'd let me help you with the concrete, Bob, so I put on these. How do you like my farmerette clothes?" she, asked smiling. "Well, you surprised me, all right," laughed Bob, as, for the first time in his life, he saw a girl dressed in man's clothes. "What do you do first, Bob?" she asked, going over to the mixer and pulling on the levers; "put in the water or the cement?"

It was probably nine-thirty that morning when Bob, busy at work on the hen house, looked up and saw Ruth dressed in her farmerette clothes, talking with their uncle at the far side of the field where he was planting oats. It was fully an hour later when he looked up again and saw Edith standing near him.

After acquiring the knack of using a pitchfork, it was surprising the work she did and thrived on. She had one vanity, however that of having her picture taken nearly every day in her farmerette clothes. Edith, who took these pictures, declared Ruth spent her nights thinking up some new poses for the next day's pictures.