his tail, taken in
righteous wrath, bearing her jack-knife company in the long, narrow
pocket of her apron. But when she had sat down musingly, her chin in her
hands, a strange thing happened to the dead gopher on the meadow rim. He
moved a little, slowly unclosed his eyes, raised his head, and looked
about; and, unseen by the Swede boy and the little girl, crawled away,
through the clods that had only stunned him, to the corn-field, where,
with many a cross _seek_, he nursed the hairy stump that henceforth was
to serve him for a tail.

Dinnerless, but forgetful of hunger in the sport of capture, the little
girl and the Swede boy stayed on. Once, during the afternoon, a gopher
stopped their work by getting away with the snare and leaving them only
half of the string. But the blind black pony good-naturedly furnished
enough wiry strands for another slipping-noose, and the hunt went on.

On their way to the farm-house at sundown, they passed the spot where
the Swede boy had left his first capture, but failed to find him
anywhere.

"Why, he's runned away!" exclaimed the little girl.

The Swede boy shook his head. "Noa; ay keel hame weeth a clode," he
said, "an' a bole-snake gote hame."

They had many a stout noose stolen during the days that followed. But
the Swede boy snared plenty of gray gophers, and they all shared the
fate of the first one,--lost their tails and were left to lie on the
edge of the ruined meadow. When the spot was visited afterward, it was
generally found that they had disappeared. But this did not trouble the
little girl, for she wisely concluded that the bull-snakes were having a
fat time of it.

The night before the three big brothers left with the thrashers, the
string of gopher-tails was so long that she brought it into the kitchen
and gave it proudly to the eldest brother to count. Then it was put into
a twist of hay and shoved into the cook-stove.

"Goin' to give some of them pennies to th' Swede?" asked the youngest
brother as the little girl sat down at the table and began to add up her
earnings.

She flushed, but did not answer.

"Naw," said the eldest brother. "Why, th' Swede's not catchin' gophers
for money; he's doin' it for love."

The little girl gathered up her pennies angrily and went to her room.
But, next morning, when the Swede boy's whistle sounded from the meadow,
she mounted her pony and went down. For the biggest brother had
whispered to her this word of philosophy