He stood
voiceless, but he needed no words. Cameron knew well the passionate
emotion that thrilled his soul and shook the slight body, trembling
under his hand. For Tim, too, it had been a notable day. He had achieved
the greatest ambition of his life in beating the best turnip-hoer on the
line, and he, too, had found what to a boy is a priceless treasure, a
man upon whom he could lavish the hero worship of his soul.
CHAPTER IV
A RAINY DAY
It was haying time. Over the fields of yellowing fall wheat and barley,
of grey timothy and purple clover, the heat shimmered in dancing waves.
Everywhere the growing crops were drinking in the light and heat with
eager thirst, for the call of the harvest was ringing through the land.
The air was sweet with scents of the hay fields, and the whole country
side was humming with the sound of the mowers. It was the crowning time
of the year; toward this season all the life of the farm moved steadily
the whole year long; the next two months or three would bring to the
farmer the fruit of long days of toil and waiting. Every minute of these
harvest days, from the early grey dawn, when Mandy called the cows in
for the milking, till the long shadows from the orchard lay quite across
the wide barley field, when Tim, handling his team with careless pride,
drove in the last load for the day, every minute was packed full of life
and action.
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