farmers; and then came potato-planting time when they could help
Ben as he worked for Deacon Brown, who always paid them well
in potatoes that kept them through the winter. And, dear me, there
was always wood to pick up and split, Ben doing the heaviest part
of the chopping; and errands down to the store for Indian meal
and molasses and flour, and to fetch and carry back the coats
and sacks that Mamsie was always sewing up. So at it they kept
all the pleasant days. And, of course, on the rainy days no one
could think of getting off to the woods. So presently Joel almost
forgot about wanting to go, until one day when Polly broke out,
"Now, boys, you can play a good while to-day; your work's all done
up."

Joel twitched Davie's arm and hauled him out to the woodpile
behind the shed. "Now come on, Dave, let's go to old Bandy Leg
Mountain."

"No, I don't want to. I'm never goin' there," said Davie,
shrinking back.

"Not after the flowers?" said Joel, aghast at that.

David looked longingly off to the tip of the mountain
overhanging Badgertown.

"N-no," he said slowly.

"You see," said Joel, wheedlingly, "there must be such a very
great lot up there, and nobody to pick 'em, Dave."