it would make, as he drove around the meadow again and again, each time
coming nearer the center.

No sound broke the stillness but the "click, click" of the sharp knives,
at the touch of which the tall grass quivered a moment and then fell.

In the afternoon Donald rode the rake, to which one of the horses,
strong and steady, was hitched. The horse knew his business. He needed
no direction from Donald as up and down the meadow he went, with slow
and even steps.

Donald sat on the small round seat, his hand grasping the lever by which
he raised and lowered the long curved teeth of the rake that gathered up
the hay and dropped it in long rows called windrows.

Mr. Leonard and Frank followed with their pitchforks, and piled the
windrows into big round cocks. The sun shone hot and clear. A strong,
dry south wind was blowing, and the air was filled with the sweet smell
of the newly mown hay.

The second day Mr. Leonard rode the machine while Peter and Frank opened
the hay that had been cocked the day before, so that it would be nicely
dried. By noon it was all cut.

The next day they raked it up for the last time and began to stow it
away in the big haymows in the barn, where the very smell of it would
make the horses hungry.

"Susie and I are coming out to help this afternoon," said Uncle Robert,
as, after a short rest in the cool porch, the haymakers, started for the