Here the season appeared to be more backward
than in the open country; the hay harvest was not yet over.
Jacob's taste for scenery was not particularly cultivated, but
something in the loneliness and quiet of the farms reminded him of
his own home; and he looked at one house after another,
deliberating with himself whether it would not be a good place to
spend the remainder of his month of probation. He seemed to be
very far from home--about forty miles, in fact,--and was beginning
to feel a little tired of wandering.
Finally the road climbed a low pass of the hills, and dropped into
a valley on the opposite side. There was but one house in view--a
two-story building of logs and plaster, with a garden and orchard
on the hillside in the rear. A large meadow stretched in front,
and when the whole of it lay clear before him, as the road issued
from a wood, his eye was caught by an unusual harvest picture.
Directly before him, a woman, whose face was concealed by a huge,
flapping sun-bonnet, was seated upon a mowing machine, guiding a
span of horses around the great tract of thick grass which was
still uncut.
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