An' that's about all there is to it!" added Farmer Hartley, rising and pushing back his massive gray hair.

"An' I sha'n't mend it by sittin' an' mowlin' over it.

Thar's all Simon's work to be done, an' my own too.

Huldy, my gal!" he held out his honest brown hand to Hildegarde, who clasped it affectionately in both of hers, "ye'll stay by Marm Lucy and chirk her up a bit.

'T'll be a hard day for her, an' she hasn't no gal of her own now to do for her.