Mr. Jones was not a man of half-way measures. He remained helping us, till he had gone through the corn, once each way, twice between the long rows of potatoes, then twice through all the raspberry rows, giving us two full days of his time altogether.
I handed him a dollar in addition to his charge, saying that I had never paid out money with greater satisfaction.
"Well," he said, with a short, dry laugh, "I'll take it this time, for my work is sufferin' at home, but I didn't want you to get discouraged. Now, keep the hoes flyin', and you're ahead once more. Junior's at it early and late, I can tell ye."
"So I supposed, for we've missed him."
"Good reason. When I'm through with him he's ready enough to crawl into his little bed."
So were we for a few days, in our winning fight with the weeds. One hot afternoon, about three o'clock, I saw that Merton was growing pale, and beginning to lag, and I said, decidedly: "Do you see that tree there? Go and lie down under it till I call you."
"I guess I can stand it till night," he began, his pride a little touched.
"Obey orders! I am captain."
In five minutes he was fast asleep. I threw my coat over him, and sat down, proposing to have a half-hour's rest myself. My wife came out with a pitcher of cool butter-milk and nodded her head approvingly at us.
"Well, my thoughtful Eve," I said, "I find that our modern Eden will cost a great many back-aches."