“You surely have a stall to spare?”
“Plenty; but no feed.”
“Oh, I will bring my own grain; and I’ll let her pasture in your orchard. She doesn’t work hard and doesn’t need much forage except what she can glean at this time of year for herself.”
“Well, then, perhaps it can be arranged,” said Lyddy. “Will you come in and see what our accommodations are?”
And so that is how another boarder came to Hillcrest Farm. Mr. Somers chose one of the smaller rooms upstairs, and agreed to pay for his own entertainment and pasturage for his horse–six dollars and a half a week. It was a little more than he had been paying at Larribee’s, he said–but then, Mr. Somers wanted to come to Hillcrest.
He drove away to get his trunk out of the window of his bedroom at the measles-stricken farmhouse down the hill; he would not risk entering by the door for the sake of his other pupils.
A little later Lucas drove up from town with Harris Colesworth and his bag.
“Say!” whispered the lanky farmer, leaning from his seat to whisper to ’Phemie. “I hear tell you’ve got school teacher for a boarder, too? Is that so?”
“What of it?” demanded ’Phemie, somewhat vexed.
“Oh, nawthin’. Only ye oughter seen Sairy’s face when maw told her!”