For this is the real warfare of the common life.
"Why," I said to myself with a curious lift of the heart, "they have need of a fellow just like me." At that moment the boy saw me and, missing a step in the rhythm of the planting, the father also looked up and saw me.

But neither said a word until the furrows were finished, and the planters came to refill their baskets.
"Fine afternoon," I said, sparring for an opening.
"Fine," responded the man rather shortly, glancing up from his work.

I recalled the scores of times I had been exactly in his place, and had glanced up to see the stranger in the road.
"Got another basket handy ?" I asked.
"There is one somewhere around here," he answered not too cordially.

The boy said nothing at all, but eyed me with absorbing interest.

The gloomy look had already gone from his face.
I slipped my gray bag from my shoulder, took off my coat, and put them both down inside the fence.