Uncle Joe says," replied his grandmother with a haughty toss of her
head. "That's what he's got you down on the farm for."

"Oh," said Bob, dryly, "and so that's why he was so extremely anxious
for me to come."

"Yes, that's why, Bob--you might as well know sooner as later, that
you're going to be a pretty busy boy this summer. Your Uncle Joe is so
big and strong that he never gets tired and doesn't know when to quit,
and he expects every one else to work just as hard and as long as he
does. Besides," she added, "I don't think he'll want HIS wife to spoil
her nice white hands."

"What's her name?" inquired Bob, not in the least worried by his
grandmother's gloomy predictions.

"Betsy Atwood--but your uncle calls her Bettie," replied his
grandmother.

"Aunt Bettie," repeated Bob. "A pretty name!"

"H'm!" sniffed his grandmother. "I'm certainly glad you like it, and I
hope you'll like her as well--it will help to make the work seem
easier to you."

"Why, there's grandfather and Uncle Joe now," said Bob a moment later,
as he glanced through the kitchen window toward the barn, and catching
up his cap he rushed out to greet them.

Joe Williams was a typical farmer, tall, deep-chested and straight as