"Do I? Then it must be that I set my heart on very little," interjected Rob.
"Would Mr. Flinders cut it?" suggested Prue.
"Even an infant must realize how very sharey Mr. Flinders is in carrying on the place on shares, Prudence, my child," said Rob, gravely. "He may be honest in giving us our third of the vegetables for the use of the land, but I always suspect him of opening the lettuce-heads and rolling them up again to make sure ours haven't more leaves than his."
"Oh, you know Mr. Flinders won't do one thing extra, Prue," said Oswyth, hastily, fearing Prue might resent being called an infant.
"He could have the grass for his horse," said Prue.
"'A merciful man regardeth the life of his beast,' Prudy," said Rob. "Our grass is half daisy-stalks, half chicory, half dandelions, half some other things—pigweed, probably—and the other half may be grass."
Both her sisters laughed. "You always were strong in fractions, Rob," said Oswyth.
"Had to practise the most fractional fractions ever since I was born—why shouldn't I be? There come those new Rutherford boys down the street," said Rob, as three tall figures, arms locked, marching abreast at a good pace, swung into sight at the head of the street. "They seemed nice when we met them the other day; I wish they'd say they'd cut our grass."
"I thought you scorned to admit boys' superiority in anything, Rob," said Wythie, slyly.
"I don't admit it; I only act on it—if I have to," said Rob.