He
deliberately tied his team in a fence corner, lay down, and fell
asleep. The clanging of the supper bell aroused him. He opened
his eyes, and as he rose, found that Dannie had been to the barn,
and brought a horse blanket to cover him. Well as he knew
anything, Jimmy knew that he had no business sleeping in fence
corners so early in the season. With candor he would have
admitted to himself that a part of his brittle temper came from
aching bones and rheumatic twinges. Some way, the sight of Dannie
swinging across the field, looking as fresh as in the early
morning, and the fact that he had carried a blanket to cover him,
and the further fact that he was wild for drink, and could think
of no excuse on earth for going to town, brought him to a
fighting crisis.
Dannie turned his horses at Jimmy's feet.
"Come on, Jimmy, supper bell has rung," he cried. "We mustn't
keep Mary waiting. She wants us to help her plant the sweet
potatoes to-nicht."
Jimmy rose, and his joints almost creaked. The pain angered him.
He leaned forward and glared at Dannie.
"Is there one minute of the day whin you ain't thinkin' about my
wife?" he demanded, oh, so slowly, and so ugly!
Dannie met his hateful gaze squarely. "Na a minute," he answered,
"excepting when I am thinking about ye.
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