"If I stay with you," he
said, "I should like to work in the fields, and help with the sowing
and the harvesting."
"So you may," said Aaron Bade.
Mr. Jeminy looked at Margaret. "And you, madam?" he asked. "Would you
care for the company of a garrulous old man at evening in your kitchen?"
Margaret blushed with pleasure. "Yes," she said.
"Very well," said Mr. Jeminy; "I will stay."
In this fashion Mr. Jeminy settled down at Bade's Farm, as farm hand to
Aaron Bade. At the end of a week he felt that he had nothing to
regret. He was active and spry, and believed himself to be useful. In
fact, he could not remember when he had been so happy. High on his
hill, he heard October's skyey gales go by above his head, and in the
noonday drowse, watched, from the shade of a tree, the crows fly out
across the valley, with creaking wings and harsh, discordant cries. In
the early morning, he came tip-toeing down the stairs; from the open
doorway he marked day rise above the east in bands of yellow light, and
saw the foggy clouds of dawn slip quietly away, rising from the
valleys, drifting across the hills; in the afternoon he labored in the
fields, and at night, his tired body filled his mind with comfortable
thoughts.
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