Part 7 (1/2)

”Is breakfast ready?” he asked, rubbing his eyes.

”It's most ready. Get right up, for it's time to go to work.”

”I 'spose we'll have breakfast first,” said Sam.

”If it's ready.”

Under these circ.u.mstances, Sam did not hurry. He did not care to work before breakfast, nor, for that matter, afterwards, if he could help it. So he made a leisurely, though not an elaborate toilet, and did not come down till Mrs. Hopkins called sharply up the attic stairs, ”Come down, you Sam!”

”All right, ma'am, I'm comin',” said Sam, who judged rightly that breakfast was ready.

”We shan't often let you sleep so late,” said Mrs. Hopkins, who sat behind the waiter. ”We were broken of our rest through your cutting up last night, and so we overslept ourselves.”

”It's pretty early,” said Sam.

”We'd ought to have been at work in the field an hour ago,” said the deacon.

At the table Sam found work that suited him better.

”You've got a good appet.i.te,” said Mrs. Hopkins, as Sam took the seventh slice of bread.

”I most generally have,” said Sam, with his mouth full.

”That's encouraging, I'm sure,” said Mrs. Hopkins, drily.

There was no pie on the table, as Sam noticed, to his regret. However, he was pretty full when he rose from the table.

”Now, Samuel, you may come along with me,” said the deacon, putting on his hat.

Sam followed him out to the barn, where, in one corner, were kept the hoes, rakes, and other farming implements in use.

”Here's a hoe for you,” said the deacon.

”What are we going to do?” asked Sam.

”The potatoes need hoeing. Did you ever hoe potatoes?”

”No.”

”You'll l'arn. It aint hard.”

The field was some, little distance from the house,--a two-acre lot wholly devoted to potatoes.

”I guess we'll begin at the further corner,” said the deacon. ”Come along.”

When they had reached the part of the field specified, the deacon stopped.

”Now,” said he, ”just see how I do it;” and he carefully hoed around one of the hills.

”There, you see it's easy.”