The old lady begins to think she must give it up; when, luckily, her eye falls on a crouching "Venus," in the corner. Saints and angels! why, she has never been to the dress-makers! There's a text, now! What a pity there is no appreciative audience to see the glow of indignation with which those half averted eyes regard the undraped goddess!
"Oh, Harry! is this the end of all my teachings? Well, it is all _Ruth's_ doings--_all_ Ruth's doings. Harry is to be pitied, not blamed;" and the old lady takes up, at length, her _triumphant_ march for home.
"Hallo! what are you doing there?" exclaimed the doctor, looking over the fence at a laborer, at work in one of Harry's fields.
"Ploughing this bit o' ground, sir. Mr. Hall told me to be sure and get it finished before he came home from the city this afthernoon."
"Nonsense!" replied the doctor, "I was born sometime before my son Harry; put up your plough, and lay that bit of stone wall yonder; that needs to be done first."
"I'm thinking Masther Hall won't be afther liking it if I do, sir," said Pat; "I had my orders for the day's work before masther went to the city, sir, this morning."
"Pooh, pooh," said the old man, unchaining the horse from the plough, and turning him loose in the pasture; "young folks _think_ old folks are fools; old folks _know_ young folks to be so."
Pat eyed the doctor, scratched his head, and began slowly to lay the stone wall.
"What's _that_ fellow doing over yonder?" said the doctor to Pat.
"Corn? ha! ha! city farming! Good. Corn? That's just the spot for potatoes. H-a-l-l-o there! Don't plant any more corn in that spot, John; it never'll come to anything--never."
"But, Mr. Hall?" said John, hesitatingly, leaning on his hoe-handle.
"Harry? Oh, never mind him. He has seen more ledgers than corn. Corn? Ha! that's good. You can go cart that load of gravel up the hill. What a fortunate thing for Harry, that I am here to oversee things. This amateur farming is pretty play enough; but the way it sinks the money is more curious than profitable. I wonder, now, if that tree is grafted right. I'll take off the ligatures and see. That hedge won't grow, I'm certain; the down-east cedars thrive the best for hedges. I may as well pull these up, and tell Harry to get some of the other kind;" and the doctor pulled them up by the roots, and threw them over the fence.
