From a hundred chimneys smoke was
beginning to come, befouling the clear air of the valley.
"It is a beautiful sight," said he to himself. "Six years ago and what
was it? Under whose hand has this change grown? Mine. I have done most
of the work, and I can lawfully claim most of the credit. Then it was
worthless, and just the other day I was offered five thousand dollars
for the place. That's pretty good. Father couldn't have done any
better."
Rupert was not given to boasting, but it did seem lately that everything
he set his hand to prospered exceedingly. This had brought some
self-exalting thoughts into his mind; not that he talked of them to
others, but he communed with them to himself, nevertheless.
That morning, as he rested his chin on his hands that clasped the end of
his shovel, such thoughts swelled the pride in his heart, and his work
was left undone. The sun came suddenly from behind the peak and flooded
the valley with light; still Rupert stood looking over the fields.
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