lared Janice, quickly.

"I'll show it to you after dinner," said Marty, of a sudden surprisingly
friendly.

"You'll hoe them 'taters after dinner," cried his father, sharply.
"That's what _you'll_ do."

"Huh!" growled the sullen youth. "Yer said I was to be perlite, an' when
I start in ter be, you spring them old pertaters on a feller. Huh!"

"Aw, now, Jason," interposed his mother. "Can't Marty show his cousin
over the farm and hoe the 'taters afterward?"

"No, he can't!" denied Master Marty, quickly. "I ain't goin' ter work
double for nobody. Now, that's flat!"

"Oh, we can go to the Shower Bath some other time," suggested Janice,
apprehensive of starting another family squabble. "I don't know as I'd
be able to hoe potatoes; but maybe there are other things I can do in
the garden. I always had a big flower garden at home."

"Huh!" grunted Marty. "Flowers are only a nuisance."

"I s'pose you could weed some," sighed Aunt 'Mira. "It hurts me so to
stoop."

"She'd better pick 'tater bugs," said Marty, grinning. "They've begun to
come, I reckon. Hard-shells, anyway."

Janice could not resist shivering at this suggestion. She did not love
insects any better than do most girls. But she took Marty's suggestion
in good part.

"You wait," she said. "Maybe I can do that, too. I'll weed a little,
anyway. Have you a large farm, Uncle Jason?"

"It's big enough, Janice," grumbled Jason. "Does seem as though--most
years--it's too big for us to manage. If Marty, here, warn't so
triflin'----"

"I don't see no medals on _you_ for workin' hard," whispered the boy,
loud enough for Janice to hear.

"This was a right good farm, onc't," said Aunt 'Mira. "B'fore Jason got
his mis'ry we use ter have good crops. That's when we was fust married."

"But that's what broke my health all down," interposed Uncle Jason.
"Don't pay a man to work so hard when he's young. He has ter suffer for
it in the end."

"Huh!" grunted Marty. "If it wasn't good for _you_ to work so hard when
you was young, what about _me_?"

"You git along out o' here an' start on them 'taters!" commanded Mr.
Day, angrily.

Marty slid out, muttering under his breath. Janice jumped up from the
table, saying cheerfully: "I'll help you with the dishes, Aunty. Let's
clear off."

Her uncle had risen and was feeling for his corncob pipe on the ledge
above the door. Mrs. Day looked a bit startled when she saw Janice begin
briskly to collect the soiled dishes.