Chapter 12

‘You could have them all thrown out for trespassing, couldn’t you?’ suggested Voldi.

‘I suppose so,’ nodded the farmer; ‘but that might cause trouble for the Carpenter. He stopped here, one day last week, for a drink of water.’

‘And you were favourably impressed?’

‘Bring your horse into the paddock,’ said the farmer, ignoring Voldi’s query. ‘Want him to have a basin of grain?’

‘Oh—I’ll not be gone that long.’

‘I wouldn’t be too sure about that,’ chuckled the farmer. ‘If he gets to healing diseases you may want to stay awhile.’

‘You mean—the fellow really does heal the sick?’

‘Well, my boy Jake—he’s fourteen now—hadn’t heard a word since he had the red fever when he was nine. I signed him to draw a bucket of water from the well and give the stranger a drink. The Carpenter took the cup and said, “Thank you, son,” and Jake heard it. You should have seen the way his eyes popped open wide!’

‘And—now he can hear?’

‘Good as you can! Better than I can! Jake’s over there now, listening to the Carpenter. He likes to tell about it when the neighbours ask him.’ The farmer laughed good-naturedly. ‘I can’t get much work out of him any more. The boy was quite a help to me before the Carpenter came along. In fact, nobody wants to work since the Carpenter showed up in this country. What time they’re not out here listening to him, they’re sitting around at home talking it over. I hear that the landowners are complaining about their labourers. Lots of corn still out in the weather…There’s going to be plenty of empty bellies this winter.’

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