some of the potatoes," said Sam, a
brilliant excuse dawning upon him.

"How long did it take you to chase her out of the field, where she
wasn't doing any harm?"

"I was afraid she'd come back, so I chased her a good ways."

"Did you catch her?"

"No, but I drove her away. I guess she won't come round here again,"
said Sam, in the tone of one who had performed a virtuous action.

"Did you come right back?"

"I sat down to rest. You see I was pretty tired with running so
fast."

"If you didn't run any faster than you have worked, a snail would
catch you in half a minute," said the old man, with justifiable
sarcasm. "Samuel, your excuse is good for nothing. I must punish
you."

Sam stood on his guard, prepared to run if the deacon should make
hostile demonstrations. But his guardian was not a man of violence,
and did not propose to inflict blows. He had another punishment in
view suited to Sam's particular case.

"I'll go right to work," said Sam, seeing that no violence was
intended, and hoping to escape the punishment threatened, whatever it
might be.

"You'd better," said the deacon.

Our hero (I am afraid he has not manifested any heroic qualities as
yet) went to work with remarkable energy, to the imminent danger of
the potato-tops, which he came near uprooting in several instances.

"Is this fast enough?" he asked.

"It'll do. I'll take the next row, and we'll work along together. Take
care,--I don't want the potatoes dug up."

They kept it up for an hour or more, Sam working more steadily,
probably, than he had ever done before in his life. He began to think
it was no joke, as he walked from hill to hill, keeping up with the
deacon's steady progress.

"There aint much fun about this," he thought. "I don't like workin' on
a farm. It's awful tiresome."

"What's the use of hoein' potatoes?" he asked, after a while. "Won't
they grow just as well without it?"

"No," said the deacon.

"I don't see why not."

"They need to have the earth loosened around them, and heaped up where
it's fallen away."

"It's a lot of trouble," said Sam.

"We must all work," said the deacon, sententiously.

"I wish potatoes growed on trees like apples," said Sam. "They
wouldn't be no trouble then."

"You mustn't question the Almighty's doin's, Samuel," said the deacon,
seriously. "Whatever he does is right."

"I was only wonderin', that was all," said Sam.

"Human wisdom is prone to err," said the old man, i