On came the mower in mighty sweeps, cutting the swath clean out to the end.
“Well done!” cried the girl. “You'll be cutting off Long John's heels in a year or so.”
“A year or so! If I can't do it to-day I never can. But I don't want to blow.”
“You needn't. They're all talking about you, with your binding and pitching and cradling, and what not.”
“They are, are they? Who is good enough to waste breath on me?”
“Oh, everybody. The McKenzie girls were just telling me the other day.”
“Oh, pshaw! I ran away from their crowd, but that's nothing.”
“And I suppose you have not an idea how nice you look as you go swinging along?”
“Oh, now you're fishing, and I'm not going to bite. Where did you learn the scythe?”
“Where? Right here where we had to, Dick and I. By the way, he's coming home to-day.” He glanced at her face quickly as he said this, but her face showed only a frank pleasure.
“To-day? Good. Won't your mother be glad?”
“Yes. And some other people, too,” said Barney.
A sudden shyness seemed to seize the young man, but recovering himself, “Well, I guess I will, myself, a little. This is the first time he has ever been away. We never slept a night apart from each other as long as I can mind till he went to college last year. He used to put his arm just round me here,” touching his breast. “I'll tell you the first nights after he went I used to feel for him in the dark and be sick to find the place empty.”
“Well,” said the girl doubtfully, “I hope he won't be different. College does make a difference, you know.”
“Different! Dick! He'd better not. I'll thrash the daylights out of him. But he won't be different. Not to us, nor,” he added shyly, “to you.”
“Oh, to me?” She laughed lightly. “He had better not try any airs with me.”
“What would you do?” inquired Barney. “You couldn't take it out of his hide.”
“Oh, I'd fix him. I'd take him down,” she replied with a knowing shake of her head.
“Poor Dick! He's in for a hard time,” replied Barney. “But nothing can change Dick. And I am awful glad he's coming to-day, in time for the raising, too.”
“The raising? Oh, yes. The McLeods'. Yes, I remember. And,” regretfully, “a big supper and a big spree afterwards in the new barn.”
“I don't know. They want me to go to help, but I don't think I'll go. I don't think father would like me to go, and,”--a pause--“anyway, I don't think I can get away.”