or you sooner than you're ready."

The brown horse flung him a brief snort of assurance, and plunged his
head into the manger; and Calvin fastened the door and made his way
slowly toward the house.

The back view of the Sill farmhouse was hardly less pleasant than the
front, especially when, as now, the morning sun lay full on the warm
yellow of the house, the bright green of the door, and the reddish
granite of the well-scoured steps. A screen of dark evergreens set off
all these cheerful tints; and to make the picture still gayer Mary
Sands, a scarlet "sontag" tied trimly over her blue dress, was sitting
on the cellar door, picking over tomatoes.

Calvin Parks was conscious of missing Hossy. He wanted some one to
appeal to.

"Do you see that?" he murmured, addressing the landscape. "Do you call
that handsome? because if you don't, you are a calf's-head, whatever
else you may be."

Mary Sands looked up, and her bright face grew brighter at sight of him.

"Oh, Mr. Parks!" she cried. "I am glad to see you. I've been wishin' all
the week you'd come by and stop in a bit. Now this is a pleasure,
surely! Come right in!"

"Hold on, Miss Hands!" said Calvin, as she moved toward the door.
"Hold on just a minute. How about the tomaytoes?"

[Illustration: "'HOLD ON, MISS HANDS!' SAID CALVIN, AS SHE MOVED TOWARD
THE DOOR."]

"Oh, they can wait!" said Mary. "I was just turning 'em so they'd get
the sun on all sides."

"Ain't it remarkable late for tomaytoes?" asked Calvin. "I dono as ever
I see ripe ones at this season. I expect you can do what you like with
gardin truck, Miss Hands, same as with most things."

Mary blushed and twinkled.

"Oh, I don't know!" she answered. "I've always had good luck with late
vegetables. I do suppose I've kept these tomaytoes on later than common,
though; I confess I'm rather proud of them, Mr. Parks. Cousins say I
tend 'em like young chickens, and I don't know but I do. I put 'em out
mornings, when 'tis bright and warm like this, and take 'em in before
sundown, fear they'll get chilled. Anything ripens so much better in
the sun."

"I don't believe you've turned 'em all," said Calvin. "I should admire
to set here a spell, if 'tis warm enough for you. I ripen better in the
sun, too;" he twinkled at her. "_Is_ it warm enough for you?" he added
anxiously.

"My, yes!" said Mary Sands. "Why, 'tis like summer in this bright sun,
and this cellar door is warm as a stove. Well, if you're r