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“And there are many times when the duty itself is disagreeable, yet doing it brings a finer joy than shirking it ever could bring.” “Pull it tighter.” “Them carrots do smell sweet.”.
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Conrad
Billy went to the door and looked after them. No one was in sight. Harold, the twins, and May Nell, too, were gone. What could it mean? He looked back at the clock. Nearly ten. Usually the Gang gathered earlier than this, hung around and hurried him with his work, many putting in lusty strokes, that Billy, the favorite, might the sooner be released. But now even Jean, his stanch second in all the fun going, was late. He had expected to be late himself; he always was. But he, who planned most of the sport in spite of doing more work than any of them, had this day expected his schemes to be well launched before he could join in them. To the melody of the shining bells, Betty dropped off to sleep. A period of silence followed excepting for the slight sounds made by the workers, the drowsy humming of flies, the murmur of an occasional bee and the faint rustlings of the tall stalks of corn. “Yes; but I’m afraid my papa’s dead, he’s been gone so long.” How she hated that word “kid.”.
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