V.

SUNDAY

Saturday was the busiest day in the week at Thankful Rest. There was
churning to be done, extra cooking for Sunday, mending and darning,
and the weekly polishing of every bit of brass, and copper, and tin
in the establishment. Lucy rubbed at them till her arms ached,
without bringing them to the required height of brightness, and was
at last sent off to pick the few remaining gooseberries for a tart.
That was a piece of work much more to her liking, and she lingered so
long out in the sunshine that Aunt Hepsy came at last, and scolded
her long and shrilly; which took all the enjoyment away. Tom received
his lessons from Uncle Josh outside; and, judging from his face when
he came in at dinner-time, he had not found them particularly
agreeable. Tom Hurst was a dainty youth, in fact, and shrank from
soiling his fingers with the tasks allotted to him: and seeing that
grim Uncle Josh had not spared him, the forenoon had been one long
battle; for, try as he might, Tom could not keep a bridle on his
tongue.

"I guess I'll hev a pesky deal o' trouble with that young 'un,
Hepsy," his uncle said that night when the children had gone to bed.
"He doesn't take to farm work; an' he's that peart I durstn't speak
to him. Queer thing if we've got to keep the young upstart in
idleness."