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Updated: June 21, 2025
When the public had discovered her and given generous approval to "A Girl of the Limberlost," when "The Harvester" had established a new record, that would have been the time for the author to prove her commercialism by dropping nature work, and plunging headlong into books it would pay to write, and for which many publishers were offering alluring sums. Mrs.
"Ain't you a little hasty?" asked the Harvester. "Isn't it rather cold blooded to come sneaking when you thought I'd be asleep? Don't you think it would be low down to kill a man on his wedding day?" Henry Jameson arose cautiously and faced the Harvester. "Who have you killed?" he panted. "No one," answered the Harvester.
It was he who daily lived before me the life of exactly such a man as I portrayed in 'The Harvester, and who constantly used every atom of brain and body power to help and to encourage all men to do the same." Marriage, a home of her own, and a daughter for a time filled the author's hands, but never her whole heart and brain.
So great was the effect of the harvester upon western agriculture that William H. Seward declared that it "pushed the frontier westward at the rate of thirty miles a year."
The Harvester looked carefully at the road, and ceased to marvel at the Girl. But he disliked to let her know he understood, so he gave one last glance at those gripped hands and casually held out the lines. "Will you take these just a second?" he asked. "Don't let them touch your dress. We must not lose of our load, because it's mostly things that will make you more comfortable."
"It is," said the Girl. "Then I will take these things to your neighbour and wait until to-morrow night. You won't fail me?" "I never in all my life saw a man so wild over designs," said the Girl, as she started toward the house. "Don't forget that the design I'm craziest about is the same as the red bird's," the Harvester flung after her, but she hurried on and made no reply.
"It's pretty!" said the Girl, studying a plant averaging a foot in height. On a slender, round, purplish stem arose one big, rough leaf, heavily veined, and having from five to nine lobes. Opposite was a similar leaf, but very small, and a head of scarlet berries resembling a big raspberry in shape. The Harvester shook the black woods soil from the yellow roots, and held up the plant.
"I will not," she promised instantly. She went to the seat under the porch tree and leaning against the trunk she studied the hill, and the rippling course of Singing Water where it turned and curved before the cabin, and started across the vivid little marsh toward the lake. Then she looked at the Harvester. He seated himself on the low railing and smiled at her. "You are very tired?" he asked.
The sharp wild scream of a note was when a hawk passed over, a weasel lurked in the thicket, or a black snake sunned on the bushes. She remembered these things, and lay listening intently, trying to interpret every sound as the Harvester did. Birds of wide wing hung as if nailed to the sky, or wheeled and sailed in grandeur.
Roosevelt, with the conspicuous aid, I mention him with no satirical intention, but merely to set the facts down accurately, of Mr. George W. Perkins, organizer of the Steel Trust and the Harvester Trust, and with the support of more than three millions of citizens, many of them among the most patriotic, conscientious and high-minded men and women of the land.
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