Mrs. Penn hurried her baking; at eleven o 'clock it was all done. The load of hay from the west field came slowly down the cart track, and drew up at the new barn. Mrs. Penn ran out. "Stop!" she screamed—"stop!"
The men stopped and looked; Sammy upreared from the top of the load, and stared at his mother.
"Stop!" she cried out again. "Don't you put the hay in that barn; put it in the old one."
"Why, he said to put it in here," returned one of the haymakers, wonderingly. He was a young man, a neighbor's son, whom Adoniram hired by the year to help on the farm.
"Don't you put the hay in the new barn; there's room enough in the old one, ain't there?" said Mrs. Penn.
"Room enough," returned the hired man, in his thick, rustic tones. "Didn't need the new barn, nohow, far as room's concerned. Well, I s'pose he changed his mind." He took hold of the horses' bridles.
Mrs. Penn went back to the house. Soon the kitchen windows were darkened, and a fragrance like warm honey came into the room.
Nanny laid down her work. "I thought father wanted them to put the hay into the new barn?" she said, wonderingly.
"It's all right," replied her mother.
Sammy slid down from the load of hay, and came in to see if dinner was ready.