ink of the bitter tea he had already drunk,
and the oil would have been even worse.

The deacon looked up as he caught sight of Sam.

"Have you got well?" he asked innocently, for he had not been as
clear-sighted as his wife in regard to the character of Sam's malady.

"Yes," said Sam, "I'm a good deal better, but I don't feel quite so
strong as I did."

"Mebbe it would be well for you to fast a little," said the deacon, in
all sincerity, for fasting was one of his specifics in case of
sickness.

"No, I don't think it would," said Sam, quickly. "I'll feel better by
supper-time."

"I hope you will," said the deacon.

"I wish I had a piece of pie or somethin' to take the awful taste out
of my mouth," thought Sam. "I can taste that wormwood jist as plain! I
wonder why such things are allowed to grow."

For the rest of the afternoon Sam worked unusually well. He was under
the the deacon's eye, and unable to get away, though he tried at least
once. After they had been at work for about an hour, Sam said
suddenly, "Don't you feel thirsty, Deacon Hopkins?"

"What makes you ask?" said the deacon;

"Because I'd jist as lieves go to the house and get some water," said
Sam, with a very obliging air.

"You're very considerate, Samuel; but I don't think it's healthy to
drink between meals."

"Supposin' you're thirsty," suggested Sam, disappointed.

"It's only fancy. You don't need drink railly. You only think you do,"
said the deacon, and he made some further remarks on the subject to
which Sam listened discontentedly. He began to think his situation a
very hard one.

"It's work--work all the time," he said to himself. "What's the good
of workin' yourself to death? When I'm a man I'll work only when I
want to."

Sam did not consider that there might be some difficulty in earning a
living unless he were willing to work for it. The present discomfort
was all he thought of.

At last, much to Sam's joy, the deacon gave the signal to return to
the house.

"If you hadn't been sick, we'd have got through more," he said; "but
to-morrow we must make up for lost time."

"I hope it'll rain to-morrow," thought Sam. "We can't work in the
rain."

At supper the wormwood seemed to give him additional appetite.

"I'm afraid you'll make yourself sick again, Samuel," said the
deacon.

"There aint no danger," said Sam, looking alarmed at the suggestion.
"I feel all right now."

"The wormwood did you good," said Mrs. Hopk