"I guess you've struck it right this time," assented Mandy, as Strout left the room and started for the wood-shed.
As he closed the door, Mandy resumed her singing as though such conversations were of everyday occurrence.
She finished her work at the sink and was fixing the kitchen fire when Hiram returned.
"All I could find," said he, holding an egg in each hand. "The hens must have struck or think it's a holiday. S'pose there's any out in the barn? Come, let's go look, Mandy. Where's old Strout?"
"I guess he's gone to look for Mr. Pettengill," replied Mandy, with a laugh.
"I kinder thought he would if I stayed long enough," said Hiram, with a grin; "but come along, Mandy, no hen fruit, no puddin'."
"Mr. Maxwell," said Mandy, soberly, "I wish you'd be more particular about your language. You know I abominate slang. You know how careful I try to be."
"You're a dandy," said Hiram, taking her hand.
They ran as far as the wood-shed, when seeing the door open, they hid behind it until Strout came out and walked down towards the lane to meet Ezekiel, whom he had seen coming up from the road. Then Hiram and Mandy sped on their way to the barn, which they quickly reached and were soon upon the haymow, apparently searching intently for eggs.