t
there were plenty of people glad to get any "grass" butter.

Betty took Doris out for a walk and to show her what a farm was like.
There was the herd of cows, and in a field by themselves the young ones
from three months to a year. There were two pretty colts Mr. Manning
was raising. And there was a flock of sheep on a stony pasture lot,
with some long-legged, awkward-looking lambs who had outgrown their
babyhood. Then they espied James weeding out the garden beds.

Betty sat down on a stone at the edge of the fence and took out some
needlework she carried around in her pocket. Doris stood patting down
the soft earth with her foot.

"Do you like to do that?" she asked presently.

"No, I don't," in a short tone.

"I think I should not either."

"'Taint the things you like, it's what has to be done," the boy flung
out impatiently. "I'm not going to be a farmer. I just hate it. When I'm
big enough I'm coming to Boston."

"When will you be big enough?"

"Well--when I'm twenty-one. You're of age then, you see, and your own
master. But I might run away before that. Don't tell anyone that, Doris.
Gewhilliker! didn't I have a splendid time at grandmother's that winter!
I wish I could live there always. And grandpop is just the nicest man I
know! I just hate a farm."

Doris felt very sorry for him. She thought she would not like to work
that way with her bare hands. Miss Recompense always wore gloves when
she gardened.

"I'd like to be you, with nothing to do."

That was a great admission. The winter at Uncle Leverett's he had rather
despised girls. Cousin Sam was the one to be envied then. And it seemed
to her that she kept quite busy at home, but it was a pleasant kind of
business.

She did not see Elizabeth until dinner time. James took the men's dinner
out to the field. They could not spend the time to come in. And after
dinner Betty harnessed the old mare Jinny, and took Electa, Doris, and
little Ruth out driving. The sun had gone under a cloud and the breeze
was blowing over from the ocean. Electa chose to see the old town, even
if there were but few changes and trade had fallen off. Several
slender-masted merchantmen were lying idly at the quays, half afraid to
venture with a cargo lest they might fall into the hands of privateers.
The stores too had a depressed aspect. Men sat outside gossiping in a
languid sort of way, and here and there a woman was tending her baby on
the porch or doing a bit of sewin