“Solemn!” said Shenac. “Lightly! By no means. I was putting two solemn things together. I don’t know which is more solemn. For my part, I would as soon feel the cold water creeping up my back, like—”
“Shenac,” said our Shenac entreatingly, “don’t say foolish things and vex my mother and Hamish.”
Her cousin put her hand on her mouth.
“You have heard my last word.”
But the last word about the shining curls was not spoken yet.
Chapter Six.
The day when the haying was to have commenced was very rainy, and so was every day for a week or more. People were becoming a little anxious as to the getting in of the hay; for in almost all the fields it was more than ripe, and everybody knows that it should not stand long after that. The fields of the Macivors were earlier than those of most people, and Shenac was especially careful to get the hay in at the right time and in good condition, because they had so much less of it than ever before.
And besides, the wheat-harvest was coming on, and where there were so few to help, every day made a difference. Whenever there came a glimpse of sunshine, Dan was out in the field, making good use of his scythe; for mowing was new and exciting work to him, though he had seen it done every summer of his life. It is not every boy of fourteen that could swing a scythe to such good purpose as Dan, and he might be excused for being a little proud and a little unreasonable in the matter. And after all, I daresay he knew quite as much about it as Shenac. When she told him how foolish it was to cut down grass when there was no chance of getting it dried, he only laughed and pointed to the fields of Angus Dhu, where there were three men busy, and acres and acres of grass lying as it had fallen.