A "sump," or drainage pit, was dug,
too, into which the drains might discharge the alkali water. The
hired men expected Claude to help dig the "sump," and it proved
quite hard work. So did the pounding of the "hard pan" on the alkali
tract, itself. The tough, hard clods of earth were so difficult to
pulverize that they had to be pounded with crowbars and axes.
"I used to think that helping pick lemons, at home, was work,"
Claude thought to-day, as he went toward the part of the ranch where
he was expected to work, "but I didn't know about alkali patches,
then. And--I had mother."
The tears would come into his eyes.
The hired men were scattered over the extensive alkali tract, and
were pounding the clods. Claude chose to work near a man called
Neil. The boy liked Neil better than the other men, because he did
not speak crossly.
Claude sorrowfully lipunded the alkali clods. How tiresome the work
was, and how uncomfortably warm the sun! The boy worked dejectedly.
After a while, pausing to take breath, he looked up and found Neil
also pausing.
"We are tired," said Neil, with a friendly smile.
"Don't you hate this work?" exclaimed Claude vehemently. "I wouldn't
touch it, if Cousin Harriet didn't make me."
The hired man looked kindly at the small, tired boy.
"It is not most pleasant," he returned, "but what I think of makes
me glad while I work.
Pages:
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114