"No, but I shall be bimeby. I thought I'd like to know when to quit work, and go to dinner."
"I'll be back before that. You needn't worry about that."
The deacon turned, and directed his steps homeward.
As long as he was in sight Sam worked with tolerable speed. But when the tall and stooping figure had disappeared from view he rested, and looked around him.
"It'll be a sight of work to hoe all them potatoes," he said to himself. "I wonder if the old man expects me to do the whole. It'll be a tough job."
Sam leisurely hoed another hill.
"It's gettin' hot," he said. "Why don't they have trees to give shade? Then it would be more comfortable."
He hoed another hill, taking a little longer time.
"I guess there must be a million hills," he reflected, looking around him thoughtfully. "It'll take me from now till next winter to hoe 'em all."
At the rate Sam was working, his calculation of the time it would take him was not far out probably.