The artistic hoer, however, is not content with this.
His artistic soul demands not only that single plants should stand in
unbroken row from end to end along the drill top, but that the drill
itself should be pared down on each side to the likeness of a house roof
with a perfectly even ridge.
"Ever hoe turnips?" enquired Perkins.
"Never," said Cameron, "and I am afraid I won't make much of a fist at
it."
"Well, you've come to a good place to learn, eh, Tim! We'll show him,
won't we?"
Tim made no reply, but simply handed Cameron a hoe and picked up his
own.
"Now, show me, Tim," said Cameron in a low voice, as Perkins and Webster
set off on their drills.
"This is how you do it," replied Tim. "Click-click," forward and back
went Tim's sharp shining instrument, leaving a single plant standing
shyly alone where had boldly bunched a score or more a moment before.
"Click-click-click," and the flat-topped drill stood free of weeds
and superfluous turnip plants and trimmed to its proper roof-like
appearance.
"I say!" exclaimed Cameron, "this is high art. I shall never reach your
class, though, Tim."
"Oh, shucks!" said Tim, "slash in, don't be afraid." Cameron slashed in.
"Click-click," "Click-click-click," when lo! a long blank space of drill
looked up reproachfully at him.
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