Everything she said
seemed to come right out of her heart.
One evening when we were picking out kernels for walnut taffy, Tony told us
a new story.
`Mrs. Harling, did you ever hear about what happened up in the Norwegian
settlement last summer, when I was threshing there? We were at Iversons',
and I was driving one of the grain-wagons.'
Mrs. Harling came out and sat down among us. `Could you throw the wheat
into the bin yourself, Tony?' She knew what heavy work it was.
`Yes, ma'm, I did. I could shovel just as fast as that fat Andern boy that
drove the other wagon. One day it was just awful hot. When we got back to
the field from dinner, we took things kind of easy. The men put in the
horses and got the machine going, and Ole Iverson was up on the deck,
cutting bands. I was sitting against a straw-stack, trying to get some
shade. My wagon wasn't going out first, and somehow I felt the heat awful
that day. The sun was so hot like it was going to burn the world up.
After a while I see a man coming across the stubble, and when he got close
I see it was a tramp. His toes stuck out of his shoes, and he hadn't
shaved for a long while, and his eyes was awful red and wild, like he had
some sickness. He comes right up and begins to talk like he knows me
already.
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