"Asahel don't understand why you are not more of a farmer,
when you are in a farmhouse."

"Asahel had better mind his own business," was the somewhat
sharp retort; and Rufus pulled a lock of the little boy's hair
in a manner to convey a very decided notion of his judgment.
Asahel, resenting this handling, or touched by it, slipped off
his chair and took himself out of the room.

"He thinks you ought to take off your fine clothes and help
Winthrop more than you do," said his mother, going on with a
shirt she was ironing.

"Fine clothes!" said the other with a very expressive breath,
-- "I shall feel fine when I get that on, mother. Is that
mine?"

"Yes."

"Couldn't Karen do that?"

"No," said Mrs. Landholm, as she put down her iron and took a
hot one. The tone said, "Yes -- but not well enough."

He stood watching her neat work.

"I am ashamed of myself, mother, when I look at you."

"Why?"