"They wouldn't take it?" gasped he. "Ay, Will, our credit is down, the
whole town knows our rent is overdue. I suppose you know money
_must_ be got some way."

"Any way is better than threshing out new wheat at such a price," said
William sullenly. "Ask a loan of a neighbor."

"Oh, Will," appealed George, "to ask a loan of a neighbor, and be
denied--it is bitterer than death. _You_ can do it."

"I! Am I master here?" retorted the younger. "The farm is not farmed
my way, nor ever was. No! Give me the plow-handle and I'll cut the
furrow, George."

"No doubt, no doubt!" said the other, very sharply, "you'd like to
draw the land dry with potato crops, and have fourscore hogs snoring
in the farmyard; that's your idea of a farm. Oh! I know you want to be
elder brother. Well, I tell'ee what do; you kill me first, Bill
Fielding, and then you will be elder brother, and not afore."

Here was a pretty little burst of temper! We have all our sore part.

"So be it, George!" replied William, "you got us into the mud, elder
brother, you get us out of the mire!"

George subdued his tone directly.

"Who shall I ask?" said he, as one addressing a bosom counselor.

"Uncle Merton, or--or---Mr. Meadows the corn-factor; he lends money at