Volume Ii Part 39 (2/2)
”Which cow? ? why ? the blue cow ? there aint none of the others that's giving any, to speak of,” said Barby, looking at her. ”Don't you know ? the cow you said them carrots should be kept for?”
Fleda half laughed, as there began to rise up before her the various magazines of vegetables, grain, hay, and fodder, that for many weeks had been deliciously distant from her imagination.
”I made b.u.t.ter for four weeks, I guess, after you went away,”
Barby went on; ? ”just come in here and see ? and the carrots makes it as yellow and sweet as June ? I churned as long as I had anything to churn, and longer; and now we live on cream ?
you can make some cheesecakes just as soon as you're a mind to ? see! aint that doing pretty well? ? and fine it is ? put your nose down to it ?”
”Bravely, Barby ? and it is very sweet.”
”You ha'n't left nothing behind you in New York, have you?”
said Barby, when they returned to the kitchen.
”Left anything! no ? what do you think I have left?”
”I didn't know but you might have forgotten to pack up your memory,” said Barby, drily.
Fleda laughed, and then in walked Mr. Dougla.s.s.
”How d'ye do?” said he. ”Got back again. I heerd you was hum, and so I thought I'd just step up and see. Been getting along pretty well?”
Fleda answered, smiling internally at the wide distance between her ”getting along,” and his idea of it.
”Well, the hay's first rate!” said Earl, taking off his hat, and sitting down in the nearest chair ?”I've been feedin' it out now for a good spell, and I know what to think about it.
We've been feedin' it out ever since some time this side o'
the middle o' November ? I never see nothin' sweeter, and I don't want to see nothin' sweeter than it is! and the cattle eats it liked May roses ? they don't know how to thank you enough for it.”
”To thank _you_, Mr. Dougla.s.s,” said Fleda, smiling.
”No,” said he, in a decided manner ? ”I don't want no thanks for it, and I don't deserve none! 'Twa'n't thanks to none or _my_ foresightedness that the clover wa'n't served the old way.
I didn't like new notions, and I never did like new notions, and I never see much good of 'em; but I suppose there's some on 'em that aint moons.h.i.+ne ? my woman says there is, and I suppose there is, and after this clover hay I'm willin' to allow that there is. It's as sweet as a posie if you smell to it ? and all of it's cured alike; and I think, Fleda, there's a quarter more weight of it. I ha'n't proved it nor weighed it, but I've an eye and a hand as good as most folks, and I'll qualify to there being a fourth part more weight of it ? and it's a beautiful colour. The critters is as fond of it as you and I be of strawberries.”
”Well, that is satisfactory, Mr. Dougla.s.s,” said Fleda. ”How is Mrs. Dougla.s.s and Catherine?”
”I ha'n't heerd 'em sayin' nothin' about it,” he said; ”and if there was anythin' the matter, I suppose they'd let me know.
There don't much go wrong in a man's house without his hearin'
tell of it. So I think. Maybe 'tan't the same in other men's houses. That's the way it is in mine.”
”Mrs. Dougla.s.s would not thank you,” said Fleda, wholly unable to keep from laughing. Earl's mouth gave way a very little, and then he went on.
”How be you?” he said. ”You ha'n't gained much, as I see. I don't see but you're as poor as when you went away.”
”I am very well, Mr. Dougla.s.s.”
”I guess New York aint the place to grow fat. Well, Fleda, there ha'n't been seen in the hull country, or by any man in it, the like of the crop of corn we took off that 'ere twenty- acre lot ? they're all beat to hear tell of it ? they wont believe me ? Seth Plumfield ha'n't showed as much himself; he says you're the best farmer in the state.”
”I hope he gives you part of the credit, Mr. Dougla.s.s ? how much was there?”
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