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“Lyman Gilman, what in the world ails you to-day? It’s perfectly ridiculous the way you yell and talk t’ y’rself out there on the chips. You beat the hens, I declare if you don’t.”

Lime put on his hat and walked up to the window, and, resting his great bare arms on the sill, and his chin on his arms, said:

“Merry, I’m goin’ to tackle ‘Dad’ this afternoon. He’ll be settin’ up the new seeder, and I’m goin’ t’ climb right on the back of his neck. He’s jest got t’ give me a chance.”

Marietta looked sober in sympathy.

“Well! P’raps it’s best to have it over with, Lime, but someway I feel kind o’ scary about it.”

Lime stood for a long time looking in at the window, watching the light-footed girl as she set the table in the middle of the sun-lighted kitchen floor. The kettle hissed, the meat sizzled, sending up a delicious odor; a hen stood in the open door and sang a sort of cheery half-human song, while to and fro moved the sweet-faced, lithe and powerful girl, followed by the smiling eyes at the window.

“Merry, you look purty as a picture. You look just like the wife I be’n a-huntin’ for all these years, sure ‘s shootin’.”

Marietta colored with pleasure.

“Does Dad pay you to stand an’ look at me an’ say pretty things t’ the cook?”

“No, he don’t. But I’m willin’ t’ do it without pay. I could jest stand here till kingdom come an’ look at you. Hello! I hear a wagon. I guess I better hump into that wood-pile.”

“I think so, too. Dinner’s most ready, and Dad’ll be here soon.”

Lime was driving away furiously at a tough elm log when Farmer Bacon drove into the yard with a new seeder in his wagon. Lime whacked away busily while Bacon stabled the team, and in a short time Marietta called, in a long-drawn, musical fashion:

“Dinner-r-r!”

After sozzling their faces at the well the two men went in and sat down at the table. Bacon was not much of a talker at any time, and at mealtime, in seeding, eating was the main business in hand; therefore the meal was a silent one, Marietta and Lime not caring to talk on general topics. The hour was an anxious one for her, and an important one for him.

“Wal, now, Lime, seedun’ ‘s the nex’ thing,” said Bacon, as he shoved back his chair and glared around from under his bushy eyebrows, “We can’t do too much this afternoon. That seeder’s got t’ be set up an’ a lot o’ seed-wheat cleaned up. You unload the machine while I feed the pigs.”

Lime sat still till the old man was heard outside calling “Oo-ee, poo-ee” to the pigs in the yard; then he smiled at Marietta, but she said:

“He’s got on one of his fits, Lime; I don’t b’lieve you’d better tackle him t’-day.”

“Don’t you worry; I’ll fix him. Come, now, give me a kiss.”

“Why, you great thing! You–took”—-

“I know, but I want you to give ’em to me. Just walk right up to me an’ give me a smack t’ bind the bargain.”

“I ain’t made any bargain,” laughed the girl. Then, feeling the force of his tender tone, she added: “Will you behave, and go right off to your work?”

“Jest like a little man–hope t’ die!”

“Lime!” roared the old man from the barn.

“Hello!” replied Lime, grinning joyously and winking at the girl, as much as to say, “This would paralyze the old man if he saw it.”

He went out to the shed where Bacon was at work, as serene as if he had not a fearful task on hand. He was apprehensive that the father might “gig back” unless rightly approached, and so he awaited a good opportunity.

The right moment seemed to present itself along about the middle of the afternoon. Bacon was down on the ground under the machine, tightening some burrs. This was a good chance for two reasons. In the first place the keen, almost savage eyes of Bacon were no longer where they could glare on him, and in spite of his cool exterior Lime had just as soon not have the old man looking at him.