Northern Wisconsin advertiser. [volume] (Wabeno, Wis.) 1898-1925, 1920-12-03

and learned his lesson.
There was no further conversation
while they worked at varying speeds
while the drowsr hot sound of the
locusts came to them. and the breath
of the hayfields. freshly cut, sweet
with a thousand blended perfumes.
They both sire 'ghtered up at the
sound of the horn blowing across the
fields.
"Dinnerr'
They both stopped with relief and
the man rose stiffly.
4 II guess you're not used to this"
the girl smiled. Her voice, huskily
sweet, was as pretty as her eyes, he
decided. Then he lifted his pail and
hers and strobe off beside her.
"Not berry picking" he explained,
looking down on her pink sun-bonnet
that she had tossed on to cross the
fields. Tive been haying over to
Farmer Dicks, and now he's set me
to berrying."
"Oh!' said the girl. In flash she
knew he was the new hand at the
Dicks, who tossed the hay on the
ricks and rode past to the barns while
she had been wedding in the kitchen
garden Of the farm below
"Do you live around here?" it was
his turn to question.
"Over to the Mayberrys'," she an
swered.
He remembered now this was the
same girl he had noticed hanging out
the clothes and working around the
place. Old Mayberry's daughter.
She was pretty thing, he thought,
as he watched her swing down the
road to the next farm. The girl, al
most as though she had read his
thoughts, turned at the pasture to
wave to him. He waved back awk-
wardly, knowing that he was not used
10 this easy give and take of farm
life, as he should be.
But he was more disappointed than
the occasion warranted when she did
not rejoin him that afternoon at the
berry bushes. They must have needed
her at home, but still He noticed
how tedious the work was and how
his fingers were stiff with thorn
pricks and how hot the sun beat down
on the fields.
When his days work was over at
last and he had washed out at the
pump with the other two Hands" and
had eaten his supper Of hearty farm
food, he found that he had no desire
rs usual to throw himself out under
the stars on the cool grass and lie
there until bedtime.
With his pipe between his teeth he
walked off hazily down the road until
he had come to the white farmhouse
cuddling down under the trees-where
she had said she lived.
"Cissy !" he heard voice call, and
as soon as he heard the name he knew
that no other could have suited her
so perfectly. He was very slow at go.
ing past the house, and when he came
back he saw a figure out under the
Rose-of- Sharon bushes, and he knew 1t
was she.
He ought to go past. But he gave
in and called, "Good EVENING"" and
she answered him in that husky, sweet
voice that blended in with the night
sounds and came out to where he
waited in the road. AS she came to
him her little bingham dress had taken
on the glamour of moonshine and the
fragrance of the roses; he knew he
was going to be sorry later. But he
found himself strolling up the road
and sitting on the crumbling stone
wall that shut in the Mayberry or.
chard.
what do you do all the timer" he
asked her.
And she told him about the kitchen,
garden and the wedding, and how she
made bread and churned the butter |;
she told him how she drove the cows
home at night sometimes and the way
she hunted for the eggs, and laughed
at the funny tricks Of the lens who
lid them so smartly In new hooks
and crannies.
He thought she was very sweet,
this little farm girl, with her knowl-
edge of the ways of all these animals
eca her natural way of looking on her
duties as so many pleasures.
But she shook him oizt OF bis
thoughts with the question, "AnG
what do you do?"
"Oh. I'm just a farmland, haying
in season, and the chores, milking,
| feeding the animals"
There was pause and the girl
wondered how. such a strong, brown,
/ steady-looking man could spend winter
laborer. If it was his own farm, or
even if he were learningl But he