"What a boy you are to find nests!" she said, as she bustled about the hearth. "To-morrow you are to go to Broadwood, Renti. There you will have plenty of eggs to hunt, for they keep a large flock of chickens, the finest in this whole region."
Renti stared at the woman and almost dropped the eggs from his hand, but he did not utter a word.
"Lay the eggs on the table," said the woman; "I haven't time to put them away now; and bring in a stick of wood. You needn't go for water while it rains so hard. Then come in to supper."
Renti laid down his cap and went out to the shed. He was paralyzed by the news he had just heard; he could scarcely lift the stick of wood, although he usually carried such a burden on a run.
The housewife looked at him questioningly. "I believe you are tired, Renti. Come, eat your supper and then go right to bed."
At the table Renti never once looked up, and for the first time since he came to Lindenhof he had no appetite.
"He is tired; I noticed it awhile ago," said the wife in answer to her husband's puzzled look,—for the boy's spoon was not traveling back and forth in its usual way, in and out of the big bowl of sour milk.
"Pshaw! that wouldn't take away his appetite," said the farmer.
But Renti could not swallow his supper.