"There's a good many stone in this field," said the old man.
"There's some." "It was a heap of work clearin' of it in the first place.

You wa'n't more'n two year old when I cleared it.

My brother Simeon helped me.
It was five year before he got the fever an' died." Caleb looked at his son with anxious pleading which was out of proportion to his words, and seemed to apply to something behind them in his own mind.
Barney worked on silently.
"I don't believe but what--if you was--to go over there--you could get her back again now, away from that Payne fellar," Caleb blurted out, suddenly; then he shrank back as if from an anticipated blow.
Barney threw a hoeful of earth high in air and faced his father.
"Once for all, father," said he, "I don't want to hear another word about this." "I shouldn't have said nothin', Barney, but I kinder thought--" "I don't care what you thought.

Keep your thoughts to yourself." "I know she allers thought a good deal of you, an'-- " "I don't want another word out of your mouth about it, father." "Well, I ain't goin' to say nothin' about it if you don't want me to, Barney; but you know how mother feels, an'-- Well, I ain't goin' to say no more." Caleb passed his hand across his forehead, and set off across the field.

Just before he was out of hearing, Barney hailed him.
"Do you feel better'n you did, father ?" said he.
"What say, Barney ?" "Do you feel better'n you did this morning ?" "Yes, I feel some better, Barney--some considerable better." Caleb started to go back to Barney; then he paused and stood irresolute, smiling towards him.