He did not say anything, but leaning up against the great brown trunk of the chestnut took a pleased survey of the whole—then went to work with the rest.
"Boys!" he said—"aren't there enough of you to open these burrs as fast as Miss Derrick can pick out the nuts? You should never let a lady prick her fingers when you can prick yours in her place."
There was a general shout and rush at this, which made Faith give way before it. The burrs disappeared fast; the brown nuts gathered into an immense heap. That tree was done.
"Hurrah! for Mr. Simlins!" shouted all the boys, throwing up their caps into the air,—then turning somersets, and wrestling, and rolling over by way of further relief to their feelings.
"The chestnut beyond that red maple for him," said Mr. Linden, flinging a little stone in the right direction; at which with another shout the little tornado swept away.
"Will you follow, Miss Faith? or are you tired?"
"No, I'm not tired yet. I must do something for Mr. Simlins."
"Well don't handle those burrs—" he said. "They're worse than darning needles."
"Have you seen Kildeer river yet, Mr. Linden?"
"I have had a bird's eye view."