The Harvester by Gene Stratton-Porter
page 11 of 646 (01%)
page 11 of 646 (01%)
![]() | ![]() |
|
10 `` snake root 18 `` 1.80
10 `` blood root 12 `` 1.20 15 `` hoarhound 10 `` 1.50 ----- $7.95 ``Not so bad,'' he muttered, bending over the figures. ``I wonder if any of my neighbours who harvest the fields average as well at this season. I'll wager they don't. That's pretty fair! Some days I don't make it, and then when a consignment of seeds go or ginseng is wanted the cash comes in right properly. I could waste half of it on a girl and yet save money. But where is the woman who would be content with half? She'd want all and fret because there wasn't more. Blame that dog!'' He put the book in his pocket, prepared and ate his supper, heaped a plate generously, placed it on the floor beneath the table, and set away the food that remained. ``Not that you deserve it,'' he said to space. ``You get this in honour of your distinguished name and the faithfulness with which you formerly have lived up to its import. If you hadn't been a dog with more sense than some men, I wouldn't take your going back on me now so hard. One would think an animal of your intelligence might realize that you would get as much of a dose as I. Would she permit you to eat from a plate on the kitchen floor? Not on your life, Belshazzar! Frozen scraps |
|