right," laughed Henry Burns. "I've got Jack here to help me
out now. What'll we do, John? Come on, we're losing time."

"Well, if you really want to," replied John Ellison, somewhat
reluctantly, "two of you can go down in the haying field and help Jim;
and there's this wood's got to be split, and the corn and potatoes to be
hoed." He pointed, as he spoke, to two great fields of the latter.
"We'll set Tim catching potato bugs," he added, smiling.

"I'll catch 'em," responded Tim, heartily. "I wonder what kind of bait
they'd make for trout."

They divided up then, Tom and Bob, equipped with pitchforks, starting
off for the haying field; Henry Burns and Tim following John Ellison
into the garden; while Harvey, his waist stripped to a faded sleeveless
jersey, attacked the woodpile with a strength and energy that made up
for his lack of familiarity with the work.

He was busily engaged when Mrs. Ellison looked out at the kitchen door.

"Why," she said, in surprise, "I didn't know we had a new hand. Oh, I
see, you're one of the boys' friends."

Harvey explained.

"Well, I call that good of you," exclaimed Mrs. Ellison, her pleasant,
motherly face beaming. "Let the boys go after it's done? Why, of course.
They can both go. Benny will help me through the week, all right, won't
you, Benny?"

The youth thus addressed, who had just put in an appearance, his gun
over his shoulder, assented, though not with much heartiness. He scowled
at Harvey, and made no offer to be friendly.

"I suppose you want to go on the pond, too," said Mrs. Ellison,
sympathetically.

Benny Ellison glanced sullenly at Harvey. "Not with those city chaps,"
he replied.

The "city chaps," sneeringly referred to by Benny Ellison, proved
themselves good workmen, however. Unused to farm labour, as they were,
their muscles were, however, far from being soft and easily tired. Tom
and Bob, who excelled at athletics, surprised Jim Ellison with the
amount of hay they could stack up into cocks, or, again, the amount they
could spread and scatter; and they were tireless in following him
through all the broad field. Henry Burns and Little Tim were of the wiry
sort that never seemed to weary; while Harvey made the pile of split
wood grow in a way that made Mrs. Ellison's eyes stick out.

Then, at noon, when the big farm dinner-bell rang, there was a great
table spread for them in the long dining-room, fairly creaking with an
array of good things to eat; wit