Chapter 62

AT last the corn was all carried, even to the thin rakings. The fowls had pecked the corn out of these; the turkeys had gone to the stubble; potatoes were being lifted; the hum of the threshing had already begun; soon Robert would be driving straight reddish-brown furrows in the pale stubble. The autumn sheep sales were going on up in the hills. The ewes that had feasted all summer on the sweet herbage of valley and summit were brought down before the hard weather should set in, only a small flock being kept by eac…