rs. Marlowe's girl--told me they used six pounds and a half
last week, and there's only four of them, including the girl. What do
you think of that?"

"What do I think? I think it's sinful--positively sinful! Six pounds and
a half at twenty-seven cents----"

"They pay thirty-two, and get the best in the market," amended his wife.

"Worse and worse! That comes to what--Bert?"

"Two dollars and eight cents," answered Bert promptly.

"Sho! Did you ever?"

"Well, I s'pose the squire can stand it. No doubt they live on the fat
of the land. I just wish they'd invite me to tea, so I could judge for
myself. I could tell within five cents how much the supper cost."

It must be confessed that Bert did not enjoy his dinner. The sausage was
far from rich or juicy, and the beans were almost cold. The potatoes and
bread have already been referred to. However, there was to be a second
course, and to that Bert looked forward anxiously, for he had by no
means satisfied his appetite. It was a plain rice pudding, and partially
satisfactory, for it takes very little skill to boil rice, and there is
little variety in the quality. By way of sauce Mrs. Wilson provided
cheap grade of molasses. Still Bert enjoyed it better than any other
article on the table.

"There's nothing like a good dinner to strengthen us for the labors of
the field," said Silas Wilson complacently, as he rose from the table.
"Come, Bert, now let us get to work to make up for lost time."

"So Mr. Wilson considers the time spent in eating as lost time," thought
Bert. "I'd rather have one of mother's dinners than half a dozen like
this. Ugh! how nasty those potatoes were."

Bert returned to the field, and resumed his work. He found it hard to
keep up with Silas Wilson, whose energies seemed to be quickened by his
midday meal.

About four o'clock a man came along who wanted to see Silas on business,
and he went back to the house, leaving Bert to continue his work alone.

"This is about the longest day I ever passed," thought Bert, pausing to
wipe his moistened forehead. "I am afraid I shall never want to be a
farmer. I mustn't forget, though, that I am to receive sixteen cents and
a little over per day, besides board--and such board! Yet this is the
way Silas Wilson has lived all his life, and he must be sixty-five at
least. How much more enjoyment Uncle Jacob has out of life, though he is
a poor man compared to the farmer."

At this moment he heard wheels pa