y to bribe people to stay a
little longer."

"I'm going to see her," Rosemary said, as she filled the water glasses.
"I told her I'd come--it isn't far to go and I have plenty of time.
Can I do anything more, Winnie?"

"Nothing except to tell your mother dinner is ready," was Winnie's
grateful reply. "You are the handiest child, sometimes, Rosemary, and
I declare I don't know how I should have got dinner on the table
to-night without a bit of a lift. I hate to be late, too, when Hughie
is here."

"I hope Jack comes up to talk to-night," said Rosemary as they sat down
at the table. "I want to know if it is fun to earn your own living.
I'm going to try it myself some day."

CHAPTER XIX

JACK--HIRED MAN

It wasn't all fun, Jack assured her when, soon after dinner, he came
toiling up the grass path and mounted the porch steps wearily.

"I never was so tired in my life," he declared. "Gee, I thought I was
'hard' enough--I've been fishing lots since school closed and that
isn't a lazy man's work especially if you wade upstream. I've hiked
miles and I've worked in the garden at home; but at this minute I have
three hundred and ninety-eight muscles creaking in my machinery that I
never knew before existed."

Doctor Hugh tossed him an extra sofa cushion and Jack stuffed it behind
his back as he sat in one of the comfortable wicker chairs.

"Where's Richard and Warren?" demanded Sarah. "I want to tell them
about greasing the chickens. Jack, did you ever grease chickens?"

"Now look here, Sarah," protested Doctor Hugh hastily, "we've listened
to the unsavory details of that process once and not even for Jack's
sake can we go through it again. Besides, Jack has a recital of his
own; you come sit with me and we'll listen to an agricultural lecture."

Sarah and Shirley both rushed to accept the invitation and after some
skirmishing managed to squeeze into the one big chair.

"Warren and Richard have gone down to the brook," reported Jack. "Mr.
Hildreth thinks someone from town is gigging there nights and they want
to keep a watch. I haven't enough ambition to catch a worm, let alone
a gigger."

"What's gigging?" cried Sarah, twisting about so that she placed her
feet in Rosemary's lap.

"Gigging is fishing at night," said Jack briefly. "I'll show you
sometime--when I can bend my knees again."

Doctor Hugh adroitly shifted the wandering feet by turning Sarah back
to her original position.

"The f