Part 16 (1/2)

”I'll run over to Smith's and get him something to wear home,” said Harry, who hurried across lots and presently returned with an old suit of clothes. August was able to dress himself now, and as soon as he felt strong enough the boys helped him home.

”You can have my fish, August,” said Bert n.o.bly.

”And mine too,” Tom added. August did not want to accept the boys'

offers at first, but at last they prevailed upon him to do so.

”I think I fell asleep,” said he, referring to the accident.

”Guess we all did!” added Harry, ”for we only woke up when we heard the splash.”

It seems the number of accidents country boys have only make them truer friends, for all the things that happened in Meadow Brook made each boy think more of his companions both in being grateful for the help given and being glad no dear friend's life was lost.

CHAPTER XIII

PICKING PEAS

”Mother,” said Harry, using that loved name to show that what he was about to say was something important, ”Peter Burns is sick. He has not been able to work since the cannon exploded and gave him the shock, and all his peas are spoiling because there's no one to pick them. Mrs.

Burns hired some boys yesterday, but they broke down so many vines she had to stop them; and, mother, would you mind if Bert and I picked some to-day? The sun is not hot.”

”Why, my dear,” replied Aunt Sarah, ”it would be very nice of you to help Peter; he has always been a kind neighbor. I don't think it would do you any harm to pick peas on a cool day like this. Bert can ask his mother, and if she is satisfied you can put on your play overalls and go right along.”

Both boys were given the desired permission, and when Tom and Jack heard where the Bobbseys were going they said at once they would go along.

”Are you sure your mother won't mind?” Mrs. Burns asked the boys, knowing Harry's folks did not need the money paid to pick the peas. ”Of course I'm very glad to have you if your mothers are satisfied.”

Soon each boy had a big basket under his arm, and was off for the beautiful field of soft green peas, that stretched along the pond bank at the side of Mrs. Burns' home. Now, peas are quite an expensive vegetable when they come in first, and farmers who have big fields of them depend upon the return from the crop as an important part of the summer's income. But the peas must be picked just as soon as they are ripe, or else they will spoil. This was why Harry got his friends to turn in to help poor Peter Burns.

”I'll go down this row and you take that.” suggested Bert to Harry.

”Then we can talk to each other without hollering.”

”All right,” Harry replied, snapping the peas off the vines and dropping them into his basket like a real farmer.

”Let's have a race,” called Tom. ”See who gets his basket full first.”

”But no skipping for big ones,” put in Jack. ”You have to pick every ripe one.”

The boys all started in at the top of the hill, each working two rows at a time. They were so interested in the race that scarcely a word was spoken. The peas were plentiful and ripe too, so that the baskets were filling up quickly. Mrs. Burns herself was picking, in fact she had been in the field since the very first peep of dawn, and she would be sure to stay out until the darkness would drive her in.

”You are fine pickers,” she told the boys, seeing how quickly they worked. ”I pay ten cents a basket, you know.”

”I guess we can earn a dollar a day at this rate,” laughed Tom, whose basket was almost full.

”I'm done,” called Jack from his row.

”No, you're not,” said Harry, ”you have to cover the rim.”

”Oh!” exclaimed Jack, who had just slipped between the rows. ”Oh! there goes my basket.”

And sure enough the big basket had been upset in Jack's fall, and most of the peas were scattered on the ground.