"He hadn't ought to!" said Mrs. Starling. "What's the reason the others ain't gettin' ahead as fast as him?"
"He's a different critter—that's all," said Josiah stolidly. "He'll be the biggest."
"They're all fed alike?"
"Fur's my part goes," said Josiah; "but when it comes to the eatin'—tell you! that little feller'll put away consid'able more'n his share. That's how he's growd so."
"They are not any of 'em the size they ought to be, Josiah."
"We ain't feedin' 'em corn yet."
"But they are not as big as they were last year this time."
"Don't see how you'll help it," said Josiah. "I ain't done nothin' to 'em."
With which conclusion Mrs. Starling's 'help' finished his breakfast and went off.
"There ain't the hay there had ought to be in the mows, neither," Mrs. Starling went on to her daughter. "I know there ain't; not by tons. And there's no sort o' a crop o' rye. I wish to mercy, Diana, you'd do somethin'."