"I looked for grandfather and Uncle Joe when I got off the bus in town, but I couldn't see them anywhere, so I walked out," he replied.
"Why, I'm sure they expected to meet you, Bob," she replied, "but the roads are so rough, I suppose they were late. They took some grain to the mill and would have to wait for it to be ground, and they may have been delayed there—but you haven't told me yet how all the folks are."
"Oh, they're all pretty well," he replied; "but tell me, when is Uncle
Joe to be married?"
"Some time in April, I believe," she replied. "Do you know you're to be his chore boy this summer?"
"Yes, father told me—it will be lots of fun. Just think—no more working all cooped up in a store like the last two summers," he replied enthusiastically.
"But it won't be all fun, you know, Bob. Your Uncle Joe has bought the farm, although it's not all paid for yet, and I imagine he'll keep you pretty busy—if I know Joe," she added.
"Let me get you some water, grandma," he said a moment later, seeing her pick up the tin water-pail; "I'll start right in now and get my hand in," he laughed.
"You always were a hustler, Bob, even if you don't grow very fast," she said, looking at his over-large clothes, as he left the kitchen.
"I hope your Uncle Joe will remember that you're not grown and can't do a man's work, even if you're willing to try," she said on his return, as she watched him set the pail of water on the kitchen table.
"Why, I'm eighteen now, grandma, and weigh one hundred and ten pounds," he answered stoutly.