Flo got the impression that Mr. Nadin was really worried; obviously he was stubborn, determined to keep to his own methods, yet he had been impressed and had spoken hoping that one of the boys might know more about it. “I dunna see ’ow you
“Oh, he’s allus gettin’ ideas,” said Clem.
“Trouble is, he doesna follow ’em out; allus on ta something fresh,” said Bert, reaching his glass and taking a deep drink.
“I know it loses seeds if it’s non cut just reet’; if ’e’d argued about that I could ’a understood,” complained Mr. Nadin.
“Hech,” broke in Mrs. Nadin testily, “it’s hay outside an’ hay in; let’s have a change.”
Nobody seemed to be able to think of anything else and the meal ended in silence.
In the afternoon Flo was shown how to draw the hay into wind-rows. The rake had a foot-lever and a hand-lever to be used together, only she was forced to do all by hand. There was a good crop, and she was kept at it reaching down and pulling on the handle. The long curved tines swung up, clearing themselves, then clashed down and groped again along the ground. It was harder for Colonel, too, and Flo could not control him well with one hand, so that the windrows suggested tremendous caterpillars with convulsions. She was ashamed of them. At half-past five Mr. Nadin stopped her. It was cow-time. She was glad of the rest because her ankle was aching again. The farmer and Dot milked as well, but the boys kept on in the field. Getting at the end of a wind-row they tucked their pikels in and shoved, tobogganing the hay along till the weight stopped them, and then making it up into neat conical lumps. Mr. Nadin kept going to the gate. Once Flo heard him shout:
“Na, Bert, mek it proper; they’ll non shed water.”
What reply he got she did not know, but he came back muttering. Dot was in a bad temper also, and Flo began to understand why haytime was so disliked. The farmer and the boys worked till ten, and when Flo looked out of her window the field was covered with humps which in the dusk looked as if some gigantic moles had thrown up their hills all over. She remembered the swaths of the morning, and was surprised when she counted the times in the day that the look of the field had been completely changed.
At ten next morning the weather broke. A fine drizzle like a cloud came up the valley from the west.
“Fine-weather rain,” said Clem. He went off in the float with Colonel to get a new shoe, one having been kicked off during the raking, though Flo hadn’t noticed.
Bert got his gun. Mr. Nadin went with him, but only to the gate, where he looked over the field which in the greyness looked disconsolate. He stayed there ten minutes. Hearing Flo going to the wash-house he turned and said, “Damn good job we got it coiled,” and at once turned to stare over the gate again. Half an hour later Flo saw him with a spade and a mattock going to open a drain that had choked in Three Oaks. He could not go far away from the hay field.
In the afternoon Flo was surprised to hear Mrs. Nadin say, “If you want to goo out, goo. When th’ weather’s fit agen the old fool’ll be like a slave-driver.”
Although Flo’s foot had gone easier in the night, she decided to write home; but then thought that if she didn’t go out Mrs. Nadin might give her more darning, which had already thoroughly bored her. So knowing that she could not walk far she put her old coat on over her working frock, intending to idle round the lake. She went slowly along the lane. Just as she was level with the boat-house Bert came out. He seemed surprised and called, “Hello, where are you off?”
She told him, “Nowhere special,” and he answered, “I promised you a trip; now’s your chance.”