"Well, pass it over. I'm as dry as a powder horn."
"I'll take it first, if you don't mind," remarked Jed, with a smile. "You're so tall, Lanky, that if you got to drinking, all there is in the jug might run down to your feet, and I'd get left."
He laughed and, tilting up the jug, drank from the uncorked opening. Switchel, I may explain to my young readers, is a drink much used by farmers, and those who have to work in hot fields often take a jug of it along, especially if they are far from good drinking water. It is composed of molasses, water and ginger, and has a pleasant taste.
"Um! I feel better," remarked Jed as he passed the jug to his brother. "Now, Bean-pole, don't take it all. That's got to last until noon, and the day has only begun."
"Don't worry. I won't take any more than you did."
After the refreshing draught the two brothers rested for a moment in the shade of the willow trees.
"Do you know, Will, I'm not much stuck on farming," remarked Jed slowly.
"Me either. I don't mind hard work, but there doesn't seem to be much of a prospect here."
"You're right. Dad and all of us work hard, but it does not seem to amount to anything. Times are getting harder all the while and even the weather is against us."
"It does seem so. But I suppose it would be just as bad if we were in some other business."