s task suited him well, and as he tore out innumerable weeds,
slashing down a big one here and another there, he was in reality
overcoming and defeating opponents of the brain. They were all there
between the rows, and he could see them so plainly. The lesser ones he
could sweep away at one stroke, but that quitch grass was more
difficult to conquer. He could cut it off, but its roots would remain
firmly embedded in the ground and would spring forth again. It was a
nasty, persistent weed. Little wonder that he attacked it most
fiercely, for it reminded him of the weed of injustice with which he
had been contending for years. Other enemies, like the smaller weeds,
he could overcome, but injustice, that quitch grass of life, was what
stung him to fury. Little did Simon Squabbles, the tight old
skin-flint, realise that the lone man working in his potato field was
doing the work of two men that morning, and at the same time slaying a
whole battalion of bitter enemies. The contest was continued during
the afternoon. The quitch grass was thicker now, and the struggle
harder. With savage delight Jasper had just torn out a whole handful
and had shaken it free from its earth as a dog would shake a rat, when
the honk of an auto caused him to look toward the road. As he did so,
his face underwent a marvellous transformation. The car was only a few
seconds in passing, but it was sufficient for him to recognise the
occupants, see the amused expression upon their faces, and hear their
salutation of "Spuds," as they sped by. His strong, supple body
trembled as he leaned for a while upon his hoe and gazed down the road
after the rapidly disappearing car. He must have remained thus for
several minutes oblivious to everything else. Neither did he see his
hard taskmaster watching him in the distance. But when he again
resumed his hoeing he worked more fiercely than ever, and there was
danger at times lest the frail hoe should break beneath his tremendous
strokes. Up one row and down another he moved all the afternoon. He
seemed like a giant tearing up the earth, rather than a man performing
a prosaic task. When toward evening the sky darkened, the wind began
to blow and the rain to fall, he hardly noticed it at first. Only when
the earth became mucky and stuck constantly to his hoe, did he leave
his work and go across the field toward the barn. It was time, anyway,
to help with the chores. He was anxious to get through