cried the loader on the waggon hoarsely, half choked with
hay dust. "Pull away!"

"Pull, Tim!" cried one of the pitchers.

"Ha! ha!" laughed two or three more women, closing round as the girl
gave a tug which nearly upset Tim and broke half-a-dozen teeth out of
his rake.

"Darn thee!" growled the old fellow. The youngest of the girls at the
same moment gave him a push under the arm with the end of her
rake-handle. It was the last straw which broke the back of Tim's temper.
Swearing, he dropped the rake and seized a prong, and hobbled after the
girl, who danced away half in delight and half in terror.

"I'll job this into thee--darn thee--if I can come near thee, thee
hussy!"

The "hussy" let him come near, and danced away again gracefully. She
was at once the most handsome and most impudent of his tormentors.
There's no saying whether the old man, roused as he was and incensed
beyond control, might not really have "jobbed," _i.e._, stabbed, his
prong at her, had not one of the pitchers left his wake and rushed on
him.

"My eye!" shouted the loader, "Absalom's at 'un!"

Absalom took Tim by the shoulders and hurled him on the ground pretty
heavily. Flinging the prong twenty yards away, he threatened to knock
his head off if he didn't let Madge alone. Old Tim slowly got up and
went off after his tool, growling to himself, while Madge clung hold of
Absalom's arm, who, turning round, kissed her. The other women looked
jealously on as she followed him back to his wake, and kept close to him
at his work.

Madge was tall and slenderly made. Her limbs were more delicately
proportioned than is usual among women accustomed to manual labour from
childhood. The rosy glow of health lit up her brown but clear cheek,
free from freckles and sun-spots. Her eyes, black as sloes, were fringed
with long dark eyelashes which gave their glances an _espiegle_
expression. They were very wicked-looking eyes, full of fun and
mischief. Her dress, open at the throat, displayed a faultless neck, but
slightly sun-browned. Her curly dark-brown hair escaped in ringlets down
her back. A lovely nut-brown maid!

Soft glances passed rapidly between Madge and Absalom, as she raked
behind him. They did not escape the jealous notice of the other women.
It was the last day of the hay-harvest--it was "hay home" that night.

Harvest is a time of freedom, but the last day resembles the ancient
Saturnalia, or rather perhaps the vine season in Italy,