er what I tell you!" said his
father.

Nevertheless, when the two boys stepped bravely out, next morning, in
the wake of the breaking-team, they were not in the least dismayed by
the prospect of working all day in the heavy furrows of the plough.
Bryant drove the leading yoke of oxen, Charlie tried his 'prentice
hand with the second yoke, and Howell held the plough.

"'He that by the plough would thrive,
Must either hold the plough or drive,'"

commented Oscar, filling his corn-dropper and eyeing his father's
rather awkward handling of the ox-goad. Uncle Aleck had usually driven
the cattle, but his hand was now required in the more difficult
business of holding the plough.

"'Plough deep while sluggards sleep,'" replied his father; "and if you
don't manage better with dropping corn than I do with driving these
oxen, we shall have a short crop."

"How many grains of corn to a hole, Uncle Aleck? and how many bushels
to the acre?" asked Oscar.

"Not more than five grains nor less than three is the rule, my boy.
Now then, step out lively."

And the big team swept down the slope, leaving a broad and shining
furrow behind it. The two boys followed, one about twenty feet behind
the other, and when the hindermost had come up to the work of him who
was ahead, he skipped the planted part and went on ahead of his
comrade twenty feet, thus alternating each with the other. They were
cheerily at work when, apparently from under the feet of the forward
yoke of oxen, a bird somewhat bigger than a robin flew up with shrieks
of alarm and went fluttering off along the ground, tumbling in the
grass as if desperately wounded and unable to fly. Sandy made a rush
for the bird, which barely eluded his clutches once or twice, and
drew him on and on in a fruitless chase; for the timid creature soon
recovered the use of its wings, and soaring aloft, disappeared in the
depths of the sky.

"That's the deceivingest bird I ever saw," panted Sandy, out of breath
with running, and looking shamefacedly at the corn that he had spilled
in his haste to catch his prey. "Why, it acted just as if its right
wing was broken, and then it flew off as sound as a nut, for all I
could see."

When the ploughmen met them, on the next turn of the team, Uncle Aleck
said, "Did you catch the lapwing, you silly boy? That fellow fooled
you nicely."

"Lapwing?" said Sandy, puzzled. "What's a lapwing?" But the ploughmen
were alread