“What are you going to do about the next crop after this? Father promised us three crops; I don’t suppose he thought anything about the time.”
“I’ll give it to you and Peter.”
“We’ll buy it of you,” said Peter.
“You are not going away,” said Bertie. “What is the use to talk about that. This is your home just as much as it is ours; we won’t let you go, will we, Pete?”
“Of course we won’t.”
“Father,” said Bertie, at dinner, “do you know that James’ time is out next fall?”
“Yes.”
“But you said he and we might have three crops off that burn. If he goes away he’ll lose his crop.”
“He won’t go away. I’ll hire him and let him have his crop to boot. I suppose he’ll work for me, won’t you, James?”
“Work for you, Mr. Whitman. I’ll gladly work for you a year without wages, and then I shall be altogether in your debt, for coming here has been my salvation, both for soul and body.”