The Bagleys did as well as we could expect, I suppose.  The children did need the “gad” occasionally and the father indulged in a few idle, surly, drinking days; but, convinced that the man was honestly trying, I found that a little tact and kindness always brought him around to renewed endeavor.  To expect immediate reform and unvaried well-doing would be asking too much of such human nature as theirs.

As July drew to a close, my wife and I felt that we were succeeding better than we had had reason to expect.  In the height of the season we had to employ more children in gathering the raspberries, and I saw that I could increase the yield in coming years, as I learned the secrets of cultivation.  I also decided to increase the area of this fruit by a fall-planting of some varieties that ripened earlier and later, thus extending the season and giving me a chance to ship to market for weeks instead of days.  My strawberry plants were sending out a fine lot of new runners, and our hopes for the future were turning largely toward the cultivation of this delicious fruit.

Old Jacox had plodded faithfully over the meadow with his scythe, and the barn was now so well filled that I felt our bay horse and brindle cow were provided for during the months when fields are bare or snowy.

Late one afternoon, he was helping me gather up almost the last load down by the creek, when the heavy roll of thunder warned us to hasten.  As we came up to the high ground near the house, we were both impressed by the ominous blackness of a cloud rising in the west.  I felt that the only thing to do was to act like the captain of a vessel before a storm, and make everything “snug and tight.”  The load of hay was run in upon the barn floor, and the old horse led with the harness on him to the stall below.  Bagley and the children, with old Jacox, were started off so as to be at home before the shower, doors and windows were fastened, and all was made as secure as possible.

Then we gathered in our sitting-room, where Mousie and my wife had prepared supper; but we all were too oppressed with awe of the coming tempest to sit down quietly, as usual.  There was a death-like stillness in the sultry air, broken only at intervals by the heavy rumble of thunder.  The strange, dim twilight soon passed into the murkiest gloom, and we had to light the lamp far earlier than our usual hour.  I had never seen the children so affected before.  Winnie and Bobsey even began to cry with fear, while Mousie was pale and trembling.  Of course, we laughed at them and tried to cheer them; but even my wife was nervously apprehensive, and I admit that I felt a disquietude hard to combat.

Slowly and remorselessly the cloud approached, until it began to pass over us.  The thunder and lightning were simply terrific.  Supper remained untasted on the table, and I said:  “Patience and courage!  A few moments more and the worst will be over!”