"And if I should have a hot-house by the time Joe comes back, it will be just royal!"
Granny smiled.
Poor dear Hal! One day he was working out in the hayfield, gay as a lark; and Farmer Morris said his boys did as much again work when Hal was there. The last load was going home. Hal mounted to the top, calling merrily to the group, when the horses gave a sudden start. It seemed as if he only slid down, and the distance was not very great; but he lay quite still. They waited for a laugh or a shout, and then ran; but Hal's face was over in the grass.
Great brawny Sam lifted him up, uttering a sharp cry; for Hal was deathly white, and could not stand. A deep groan escaped the lips that had laughed with gladness only a moment ago, and were now drawn to a thin blue line.
They crowded round with awe-stricken faces.
"Oh, he isn't dead!"
"No, I guess not;" and Sam's voice had a quiver in it, as if tears were not far off. "O father, father!"
Mr. Morris hurried to the spot.
"Poor Hal! Let's take him home, and send for a doctor. I wouldn't had it happen for a hundred dollars! It'll about kill his grandmother."
Hal gave another groan, but did not open his eyes.