"I hope you may be right," answered Father Maes, cracking his
whip, and the cart moved on.

Mother Van Hove, meanwhile, had hastened ahead of the cart to
stir up the kitchen fire and put the kettle on before the others
should reach home, and when Father Van Hove at last drove into
the farmyard, she was already on the way to the pasture bars with
her milk-pail on her arm. "Set the table for supper, ma Mie," she
called back, "and do not let the pot boil over! Jan, you may shut
up the fowls; they have already gone to roost."

"And what shall I do, Mother?" laughed Father Van Hove.

"You," she called back, "you may unharness Pier and turn him out
in the pasture for the night! And I'll wager I shall be back with
a full milk-pail before you've even so much as fed the pig, let
alone the other chores--men are so slow!" She waved her hand
gayly and disappeared behind the pasture bars, as she spoke.

"Hurry, now, my man," said Father Van Hove to Jan. "We must not
let Mother beat us! We will let the cart stand right there near
the barn, and to-morrow we can store the grain away to make room
for a new load. I will let you lead Pier to the pasture, while I
feed the pig myself; by her squeals she is hungry enough to eat
you up in one mouthful."


II