[The Harvester by Gene Stratton Porter]@TWC D-Link bookThe Harvester CHAPTER III 19/36
I see where I grow rich in spite of myself, and also where my harvest is going to spoil before I can garner it, if I don't step lively and double even more than I am now.
Where the cabin is to come in----well it must come if everything else goes. "The roots can wait and I'll dig them next year and get more and larger pieces.
I won't really lose anything, and if she should come before I am ready to start to find her, why then I'll have her home prepared. How long before you begin your house, old fire-fly ?" he inquired of a flaming cardinal tilting on a twig. He arose to make the round of the sap buckets again, then resumed his work peeling bark, and so the time passed.
In the following ten days he collected and boiled enough sap to make more syrup than he had expected. His earliest spring store of medicinal twigs, that were peeled to dry in quills, were all collected and on the trays; he had digged several wagon loads of sassafras and felled all the logs of stout, slender oak he would require for his walls.
Choice timber he had been curing for candlestick material he hauled to the saw-mills to have cut properly, for the thought of trying his hand at tables and chairs had taken possession of him.
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