So through the cooling fall days they worked together.

They were very happy.

Before her wondering eyes the Harvester hung queer branches, burs, nuts, berries, and trailing vines with curious seed pods.

There were masses of brilliant flowers, most of them strange to the Girl, many to the great average of humanity.

While she sat bending over them, beside her the Harvester delved in the black earth of the woods, or the clay and sand of the open hillside, or the muck of the lake shore, and lifted large bagfuls of roots that he later drenched on the floating raft on the lake, and when they had drained he dried them.