“Please understand,” said the carpenter, “that I will do what I have said, but I don't want to be worried about the details. You are a boy, but I shall trust to your judgment, as you are interested in the result.”
“Thank you,” said Herbert, rather proud of the confidence reposed in him. “I will do what I can to justify your confidence. I'll go right off and see about the plowing.”
“Very well.”
Whatever Herbert did was done promptly. He knew of a man named Kimball, a farmer on a small scale, who was accustomed to do work for neighbors, not having enough work of his own to occupy his whole time. He went to see him at once.
“Mr. Kimball,” he said, “I want to know if I can engage you to do some plowing for me.”
“For you!” repeated the farmer, opening his eyes. “Why, you haven't taken a farm, have you?”
“Not yet,” said Herbert, smiling; “but I've agreed to cultivate a little land on shares.”
“Sho! you don't say so! What land is it?”
“It's the field behind Mr. Crane's house.”
“So he's engaged you, has he? Well, I've often wondered why he didn't cultivate it. Might as well as not.”