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WHENGrantcameinatnoon，Mrs。McLanemethimatthedoorwithatendersmileonherface。
“Where’sHoward，Grant？“
“Idon’tknow，“herepliedinatonethatimplied“Idon’tcare。“
Thedimeyescloudedwithquicktears。
“Ain’tyouseenhim？“
“Notsincenineo’clock。“
“Whered’youthinkheis？“
“ItellyehIdon’tknow。He’lltakecareofhimself；don’tworry。“
Heflungoffhishatandplungedintothewashbasin。Hisshirtwaswetwithsweatandcoveredwithdustofthehayandfragmentsofleaves。Hesplashedhisburningfacewiththewater，payingnofurtherattentiontohismother。Shespokeagain，verygently，inreproof：
“Grant，whydoyoustandoutagainstHowardso？“
“Idon’tstandoutagainsthim，“herepliedharshly，pausingwiththetowelinhishands。Hiseyeswerehardandpiercing。“Butifheexpectsmetogushoverhiscomingback，he’sfooled，that’sall。
He’sleftustopaddleourowncanoeallthiswhile，and，sofarasI’mconcerned，hecanleaveusalonehereafter。Helookedoutforhisprecioushidemightywell，andnowhecomesbackheretoplaybiggunandpatusonthehead。Idon’tproposetolethimcomethatoverme。“
Mrs。McLaneknewtoowellthetemperofhersontosayanymore，butsheinquiredaboutHowardoftheoldhiredman。
“Hewentoffdownthevalley。He’n’Granthads’mwords，andhepulledoutdowntowardtheoldfarm。That’sthelastIseeof’im。“
LauratookHoward’spartatthetable。“Pityyoucan’tbedecent，“
shesaid，brutallydirectasusuaL“YoutreatHowardasifhewasa-a-Ido’knowwhat。“
“wrnyouletmealone？“
“No，Iwon’t。IfyouthinkI’mgoingtosetbyan’agreetoyourbullyraggin’him，you’remistaken。It’sashame!You’remad’causehe’ssucceededandyouain’t。Heain’ttoblameforhisbrains。IfyouandI’dhadany，we’d’a’succeeded，too。Itain’tourfaultanditain’this；sowhat’stheuse？“
TherewasalookcameintoGrant’sfacethatthewifeknew。Itmeantbitterandterriblesilence。Heatehisdinnerwithoutanotherword。
Itwasbeginningtocloudup。Athin，whitish，’all-pervasivevaporwhichmeantrainwasdimmingthesky，andbeforcedhishandstotheirutmostduringtheafternooninordertogetmostofthedownhayinbeforetheraincame。HewaspitchinghayupintothebarnwhenHowardcamebyjustbeforeoneo’clock。
Itwaswindlessthere。Thesunfellthroughthewhitemistwithundiminishedfury，andthefragranthaysentupabreaththatwashotasanovendraught。Grantwasapowerfulman，andtherewassomethingmajesticinhisactionasherolledthehugeflakesofhaythroughthedoor。Thesweatpouredfromhisfacelikerain，andhewasforcedtodrawhisdrippingsleeveacrosshisfacetoclearawaytheblindingsweatthatpouredintohiseyes。
Howardstoodandlookedathiminsilence，rememberinghowoftenhehadworkedthereinthatfurnaceheat，hismusclesquivering，coldchillsrunningoverhisflesh，redshadowsdancingbeforehiseyes。
Hismothermethimatthedooranxiously，butsmiledasshesawhispleasantfaceandcheerfuleyes。
“You’realittlelate，m’son。“
Howardspentmostoftheafternoonsittingwithhismotherontheporch，orunderthetrees，lyingsprawledoutlikeaboy，restingattimeswithsweetforgetfulnessofthewholeworld，butfeelingadullpainwheneverherememberedthestern，silentmanpitchinghayinthehotsunonthetorridsideofthebarn。
Hismotherdidnotsayanythingaboutthequarrel；shefearedtoreopenit。Shetalkedmainlyofoldtimesinagentlemonotoneofreminiscence，whilehelistened，lookingupintoherpatientface。
Theheatslowlylessenedasthesunsankdowntowardtheduncloudsrisinglikeamoredistantandmajesticlineofmountainsbeyondthewesternhills。Thesoundofcowbellscameirregularlytotheear，andthevoicesandsoundsofthehayingfieldshadajocund，thrillingeffectontheearofthecitydweller。
Hewasverytender。Everythingconspiredtomakehimsimple，direct，andhonest。
“Mother，ifyou’llonlyforgivemeforstayingawaysolong，I’llsurelycometoseeyoueverysummer。“
Shehadnothingtoforgive。Shewassogladtohavehimthereatherfeet-hergreat，handsome，successfulboy!Shecouldonlylovehimandenjoyhimeverymomentofthepreciousdays。IfGrantwouldonlyreconcilehimselftoHoward!Thatwasthegreatthorninherflesh。
Howardtoldherhowhehadsucceeded。
“Itwasluck，Mother。FirstImetCooke，andheintroducedmetoJakeSaulsmanofChicago。JakeaskedmetogotoNewYorkwithhim，and-Idon’tknowwhy-tookafancytomesomeway。HeintroducedmetoalotofthefellowsinNewYork，andtheyallhelpedmealong。Ididnothingtomeritit。Everybodyhelpsme。
Anybodycansucceedinthatway。“
Thedotingmotherthoughtitnotatallstrangethattheyallhelpedhim。
AtthesuppertableGrantwasgloomilysilent，ignoringHowardcompletely。Mrs。McLanesatandgrievedsilently，notdaringtosayawordinprotest。LauraandthebabytriedtoamuseHoward，andundercoveroftheirtalkthemealwaseaten。
TheboyfascinatedHoward。He“sawedwood“witharapidityanduninterruptednesswhichgavealarm。Hehadtheairofcoalingupforalongvoyage。
“Atthatage，“Howardthought，“Imusthavegrippedmyknifeinmyrighthandso，andpouredmyteaintomysaucerso。Imusthavebutteredandbitintoahugesliceofbreadjustso，andchewedatitwithasmackingsoundinjustthatway。Imusthavegonetothelengthofscoopinguphoneywithmyknifeblade。“
Itwasmagically，mysticallybeautifuloverallthissqualorandtoilandbitterness，fromfivetillseven-amovinghour。Againthefallingsunstreamedinbroadbannersacrossthevalleys；againthebluemistlayfardownthecouleeovertheriver；thecattlecalledfromthehillsinthemoistening，sonorousair；thebellscameinapleasanttangleofsound；theairpulsedwiththedeepeningchorusofkatydidsandothernocturnalsingers。
Sweetanddeepastheveryspringsofhislifewasallthistothesouloftheelderbrother；butinthemidstofit，theyoungerman，inill-smellingclothesandgreatbootsthatchafedhisfeet，wentouttomilkthe。cows-onwhoselegsthefliesandmosquitoesswarmed，bloatedwithblood-tositbythehotsideofthecowandbelashedwithhertallasshetriedfranticallytokeepthesavageinsectsfromeatingherraw。
“Thepoetwhowritesofmilkingthecowsdoesitfromthehammock，lookingon，“HowardsoliloquizedashewatchedtheoldmanLewisracingaroundthefilthyyardafteroneoftheyoungheifersthathadkickedoverthepailinheragonywiththefliesandwasunwillingtostandstillandbeeatenalive。
“So，so!youbeast!“roaredtheoldmanashefinallycorneredtheshrinking，nearlyfranticcreature。
“Don’tyouwanttolookatthegarden？“askedMrs。McLaneofHoward；andtheywentoutamongthevegetablesandberries。
Thebeeswerecominghomeheavilyladenandcrawlingslowlyintothehives。Thelevel，redlightstreamedthroughthetrees，blazedalongthegrass，andlightedafewold-fashionedflowersintoredai~dgoldflame。Itwasbeautiful，andHowardlookedatitthroughhishalf-shuteyesasthepaintersdo，andturnedawaywithasighatthesoundofblowswherethewetandgrimymenwereassailingthefranticcows。
“There’sWesleywithyourtrunk，“Mrs。McLanesaid，recallinghimtohimself。
Wesleyhelpedhimcarrythetrunkinandwavedoffthanks。
“Oh，that’sallright，“hesaid；andHowardknewtheWesternmantoowelltopressthematterofpay。
Ashewentinanhourlaterandstoodbythetrunk，thedullachecamebackintohisheart。Howhehadfailed!Itseemedlikeabittermockerynowtoshowhisgifts。
Granthadcomeinfromhiswork，andwithhisfeetreleasedfromhischafingboots，inhiswetshirtandmilk-splashedoveralls，satatthekitchentablereadinganewspaperwhichheheldclosetoasmallkerosenelamp。Hepaidnoattentiontoanyone。Hisattitude，Curiouslylikehisfather’s，wasperfectlydefinitetoHoward。Itmeantthatfromthattimeforwardthereweretobenowordsofanysortbetweenthem。Itmeantthattheywerenolongerbrothers，notevenacquaintances。“Howinexorablethatface!“thoughtHoward。
Heturnedsickwithdisgustanddespair，andwouldhaveclosedhistrunkwithoutshowinganyofthepresents，onlyforthechildishexpectancyofhismotherandLaura。
“Here’ssomethingforyou，Mother，“hesaid，assumingacheerfulvoiceashetookafoldoffinesilkfromthetrunkandhelditup。
“AllthewayfromParis。“
Helaiditonhismother’slapandstoopedandkissedher，andthenturnedhastilyawaytohidethetearsthatcametohisowneyesashesawherkeenpleasure。
“Andhere’saparasolforLaura。Idon’tknowhowIcametohavethatinhere。Andhere’sGeneralGrant’sautobiographyforhisnamesake，“hesaidwithaneffortatcarelessness，andwaitedtohearGrantrise。
“Grant，won’tyoucomein？“askedhismotherquiveringly。
Grantdidnotreplynormove。Lauratookthehandsomevolumesoutandlaidthembesidehimonthetable。Hesimplypushedthemtoonesideandwentonwithhisreading。
AgainthathorribleangerswepthotasflameoverHoward。Hecouldhavecursedhim。HishandsshookashehandedoutotherpresentstohismotherandLauraandthebaby。Hetriedtojoke。
“Ididn’tknowhowoldthebabywas，soshe’llhavetogrowtosomeofthesethings。“
Butthepleasurewasallgoneforhimandfortherest。Hisheartswelledalmosttoafeelingofpainashelookedathismother。
Thereshesatwiththepresentsinherlap。Theshiningsilkcametoolateforher。Itthrewintoappallingreliefherage，herpoverty，herwork-wearyframe。“MyGod!“healmostcriedaloud，“howlittleitwouldhavetakentolightenherlife!“
Uponthismoment，whenitseemedasifhecouldendurenomore，camethesmoothvoiceofWilliamMcTurg：
“Hello，folkses!“
“Hello，UncleBill!Comein。“
“That’swhatwecamefor，“laughedawoman’svoice。
“Isthatyou，Rose？“askedLaura。
“It’sme-Rose，“repliedthelaughinggirlasshebouncedintotheroomandgreetedeverybodyinabreathlesssortofway。
“Youdon’tmeanlittleRosy？“
“BigRosynow，“saidWilliam。
Howardlookedatthehandsomegirlandsmiled，sayinginanasalsortoftone，“Wal，wal!Rosy，howyou’vegrowedsinceIsawyeh!“
“Oh，lookatallthispurpleandfinelinen!AmIleftout？“
Rosewasalargegirloftwenty-fiveorthereabouts，andwascalledanoldmaid。Sheradiatedgoodnaturefromeverylineofherbuxomself。Herblackeyeswerefullofdrollery，andshewasonthebestoftermswithHowardatonce。Shehadbeenateacher，butthatdidnotpreventherfromassumingapeculiardirectnessofspeech。Ofcoursetheytalkedaboutoldfriends。
“Where’sRachel？“Howardinquired。Hersmilefadedaway。
“ShelliemarriedOrrinMcllvaine。They’rewayoutinDakota。
Shellie’shavin’ahardrowofstumps。“
Therewasalittlesilence。
“AndTommy？“
“GoneWest。MostalltheboyshavegoneWest。That’sthereasonthere’ssomanyoldmaids。“
“Youdon’tmeantosay-“
“Idon’tneedtosay-I’manoldmaid。Lotsofthegirlsare。“
“Itdon’tpaytomarrythesedays。“
“Areyoumarried？“
“Notyet。“Hiseyeslightedupagaininahumorousway。
“Notyet!That’sgood!That’sthewayoldmaidsalltalk。“
“Youdon’tmeantotellmethatnoyoungfellowcomesprowlingaround-“
“Oh，ayoungDutchrnanorNorwegianonceinawhile。Nobodythatcounts。Factis，we’regettinglikeBoston-fourwomentooneman；andwhenyouconsiderthatwe’regettingmoreparticulareachyear，theoutlookis-well，it’sdreadful!“
“Itcertainlyis。“
