Jimmy straightened, stared wildly behind him, and over the
open, hazy field, where flowers bloomed, and birds called, and
the long rows of shocks stood unconscious auditors of the strange
scene. He lifted his hat, and wiped the perspiration from his
dripping face with the sleeve of his shirt, and as he raised his
arm, the corn- cutter flashed in the light.
"My God, it's awful, Dannie! It's so awful, I can't begin to tell
you!"
Dannie's face was ashen. "Jimmy, dear auld fellow," he said, "how
long has this been going on?"
"A million years," said Jimmy, shifting the corn-cutter to the
hand that held his hat, that he might moisten his fingers with
saliva and rub it across his parched lips.
"Jimmy, dear," Dannie's hand was on Jimmy's sleeve. "Have ye been
to town in the nicht, or anything like that lately?"
"No, Dannie, dear, I ain't," sneered Jimmy, setting his hat on
the back of his head and testing the corn-cutter with his thumb.
"This ain't Casey's, me lad. I've no more call there, at this
minute, than you have."
"It is Casey's, juist the same," said Dannie bitterly. "Dinna ye
know the end of this sort of thing?"
"No, bedad, I don't!" said Jimmy. "If I knew any way to ind it,
you can bet I've had enough. I'd ind it quick enough, if I knew
how.
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