A beautiful spring morning dawned on Dry Bench. A cool breeze came from
the mountains and played with the young leaves of the orchard. The
apricots were white with blossoms, and the plums and peaches were just
bursting into masses of pink and white. The alfalfa and wheat fields
were beautifully green. Blessed Morning, what a life promoter, what a
dispeller of fears and bringer of hopes, thou art!
Rupert was out early. After tossing some hay to the horses and cows, he
shouldered his shovel and strode up the ditch, whistling as he went. His
straw hat set well back on his head. His blue "jumper" met the blue
overalls which were tucked into a pair of heavy boots. His tune was a
merry one and rang out over the still fields and up to the hills.
Rupert's thoughts were a mixture that morning, and flew from one thing
to another: the ditch which he was to clean and repair; the condition of
the reservoir; the meeting of the school board; the planting of the
garden; the dance at the hall in town; the wonderful spreading
properties of weeds--so on from one subject to another, until he came to
a standstill, leaning on his shovel and looking over his farm and down
to the town, fast growing into a city.
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