ar are you planting, Ben?" I asked.

"About fourteen inches."

So we began in fine spirits. I was delighted with the favourable
beginning of my enterprise; there is nothing which so draws men together
as their employment at a common task.

Ben was a lad some fifteen years old-very stout and stocky, with a fine
open countenance and a frank blue eye--all boy. His nose was as freckled
as the belly of a trout. The whole situation, including the prospect of
help in finishing a tiresome job, pleased him hugely. He stole a glimpse
from time to time at me then at his father. Finally he said:

"Say, you'll have to step lively to keep up with dad."

"I'll show you," I said, "how we used to drop potatoes when I was a
boy."

And with that I began to step ahead more quickly and make the pieces
fairly fly.

"We old fellows," I said to the father, "must give these young sprouts a
lesson once in a while."

"You will, will you?" responded the boy, and instantly began to drop the
potatoes at a prodigious speed. The father followed with more dignity,
but with evident amusement, and so we all came with a rush to the end of
the row.

"I guess that beats the record across THIS field!" remarked the lad,
puffing and wiping his forehead. "Say, but you're a good one!"

It gave me a peculiar thrill of pleasure; there is nothing more pleasing
than the frank admiration of a boy.

We paused a moment and I said to the man: "This looks like fine potato
land."

"The' ain't any better in these parts," he replied with some pride in
his voice.

And so we went at the planting again: and as we planted we had great
talk of seed potatoes and the advantages and disadvantages of mechanical
planters, of cultivating and spraying, and all the lore of prices and
profits. Once we stopped at the lower end of the field to get a drink
from a jug of water set in the shade of a fence corner, and once we set
the horse in the thills and moved the seed farther up the field. And
tired and hungry as I felt I really enjoyed the work; I really enjoyed
talking with this busy father and son, and I wondered what their home
life was like and what were their real ambitions and hopes. Thus the sun
sank lower and lower, the long shadows began to creep into the valleys,
and we came finally toward the end of the field. Suddenly the boy Ben
cried out:

"There's Sis!"

I glanced up and saw standing near the gateway a slim, bright girl of
about twelve in a fresh gingha