from the cart. “Oh! They all rode by here not long since, to look at a reaping machine. They’ll be home by now. And who will you be belonging to? …”
“We’ve come a long way,” said the coachman, climbing onto the box. “So it’s not far?”
“I tell you, it’s just here. As soon as you get out. …” he said, keeping hold all the while of the carriage.
A healthy-looking, broad-shouldered young fellow came up too.
“What, is it laborers they want for the harvest?” he asked.
“I don’t know, my boy.”
“So you keep to the left, and you’ll come right on it,” said the peasant, unmistakably loth to let the travelers go, and eager to converse.
The coachman started the horses, but they were only just turning off when the peasant shouted: “Stop! Hi, friend!