Well as he knew anything, Jimmy knew that he had no business sleeping in fence corners so early in the season.

With candor he would have admitted to himself that a part of his brittle temper came from aching bones and rheumatic twinges.

Some way, the sight of Dannie swinging across the field, looking as fresh as in the early morning, and the fact that he had carried a blanket to cover him, and the further fact that he was wild for drink, and could think of no excuse on earth for going to town, brought him to a fighting crisis.
Dannie turned his horses at Jimmy's feet.
"Come on, Jimmy, supper bell has rung," he cried.

"We mustn't keep Mary waiting.

She wants us to help her plant the sweet potatoes to-nicht." Jimmy rose, and his joints almost creaked.