They might have been forthcoming had not the
windmill maker been engaged just at that moment in gazing
abstractedly at the door of the little stove which heated, or was
intended to heat, the workshop. He did not appear to have heard
her remark, so the young lady repeated it. Still he paid no
attention. Miss Maud, having inherited a goodly share of the
Hunniwell disposition, demanded an explanation.
"What in the world is the matter with you?" she asked. "Why are
you staring at that stove?"
Jed started and came to life. "Eh?" he exclaimed. "Oh, I was
thinkin' what an everlastin' nuisance 'twas--the stove, I mean. It
needs more wood about every five minutes in the day, seems to--
needs it now, that's what made me think of it. I was just
wonderin' if 'twouldn't be a good notion to set it up out in the
yard."
"Out in the yard? Put the stove out in the yard? For goodness'
sake, what for?"
Jed clasped his knee in his hand and swung his foot back and forth.
"Oh" he drawled, "if 'twas out in the yard I shouldn't know whether
it needed wood or not, so 'twouldn't be all the time botherin' me."
However, he rose and replenished the stove. Miss Hunniwell
laughed. Then she said: "Jed, you don't deserve it, because you
didn't hear me when I first dropped the hint, but I came here
with an invitation for you.
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