had settled on the cart, and were pecking away at the grain as hard as they could. "It was two weeks ago," he repeated, as he turned back to me. "God knows we expected nothing of the sort; the weather was improving and calmer, we began to get things ready, and to rejoice that the spring had come. The first day he spent all the morning in the fields looking at the winter corn, but he complained that his loins ached a good deal. 'I have such a pain here,' he said. In the evening I went to see him in the barn, and he said to me, 'Well, Saul, spring is here,' and he looked all round; 'spring is here, and we must begin to plough.' Then he began to complain of weakness. 'My strength is failing me; I shan't be able to go ploughing with you.' 'Come, father,' said I, ' don't forecast evil, God is merciful.' 'No,' said he, 'I shan't go ploughing with you, my heart tells me so.' Then he lay down on a bundle of straw and suddenly burst out crying; it was pitiable to see him He had never done such a thing before. There he lay till evening, when we persuaded him to go into the house. The next day he was better, and went again into the field."
"Why didn't you stop him?"
"How could we stop him? He had always
