sudden eruptions of thunder and
quick cross-lightnings upon his devoted head.

XX.

THE HAY-FIELD.

Father Brighthopes felt much refreshed in the open air. His heart
expanded, his soul went up on wings of light towards God.

"I have done my duty, thanks to the Giver of strength!" he murmured,
with deep inward peace. "Oh, Lord, bless unto her the seed of truth thy
servant has scattered upon the thorny ground of her heart!"

Birds sang around him; fearless squirrels chattered at him, from fences
and limbs of trees, with fan-like, handsome tails curved proudly over
their backs; and the beautiful sunshine kissed his aged cheek.

In the distance he heard the cheerful sound of the mowers whetting their
scythes, in the sweet air of June. His heart leaped with joy, as he
followed along the grassy orchard path. In a little while he came in
sight of the hay-field. A pleasing picture met his eye, and he stopped
to look upon it.

A sturdy laborer stood manfully erect, his scythe at his feet, with the
blade buried in a fresh swath, and the water-jug elevated at right
angles from his perpendicular, with its nose just beneath his own.
Chester, rosy, perspiring, his straw hat set carelessly upon one side of
his head, stood leaning on his scythe. His father was whetting the
obstinate tool which he had been deterred from grinding properly by the
ill-timed laziness of Sam. The second hired laborer was seated upon a
heap of grass, under the fence, fanning his brown face with his broad
hat-brim; and, still nearer the orchard, James was scattering the swaths
with a pitchfork, in the midst of the wide space which the mowers had
already gone over.

It was a handsome meadow; the ground high and rolling, the grass waving
in the distance, a cornfield on the right, a hilly pasture on the left,
and a green grove still further to the south. The old clergyman stood in
the midst of the orchard trees, admiring the picture, until Mr. Royden,
uttering some pleasant jest, swung his scythe into the tall grass,
followed by the two hired men and Chester in regular succession, at each
other's heels.

Father Brighthopes found a fork by the orchard fence, and went to help
James spread hay. Having gone once across the field with one of
Chester's light swaths, he took off his coat, and hung it upon the fence
by the pasture; having gone back again, he removed his vest; and one
more turn brought off his neckcloth.

"You go to work like an old f