But his spirits were depressed, and his sensitive conscience condemned him for some unknown crime that had brought about all this disturbance of the elements.

The ham did not seem very good, the cabbage he could not eat, the corn-dodger choked him, he had no desire to wait for the pie.

He abridged his meal, and went out to the barn to keep company with his horses and his misery until it should be time to return to his plow.
Julia sat and sewed in that tedious afternoon.

She would have liked one more interview with August before his departure.

Looking through the open hall, she saw him leave the barn and go toward his plowing.