Page:War; or, What happens when one loves one's enemy, John Luther Long, 1913.djvu/49

ABOUT THE LOVE GAME it's yellow—and for a background, the blue old sky with little sugar-loaf clouds like they might fall on us. It looked like that picture in the old red Bible, of Ruth reaping—if Evelyn had just had a sickle yet, and shorter clothes. But handsomer than Ruth, enough sight. One of Ruth's eyes wasn't printed right. And, anyhow, Evelyn's eyes couldn't be printed.

Old Jon, with his smile and yellow hair and whiskers just fitting into the color plan of the wheat, wasn't so very far out of the picture, neither. And, I expect, if some one else was telling this he might say that me and the hireland was somewhere near the frame.

"Daddy," says Evelyn, "if I can get work here I'll work!"

Just in fun. She couldn't work. Such hands as she had on the ends of her arms are for ornament, not work.

"Yes," says I, "you can. We're just one hand short. You can take Dave's place. Get his old rusty sickle and sharpen it up, and we'll 33