He went, and returned on the day Tom and Bill were born--twins.

Maybe his absence did keep the wolf from the door, but it did n't keep the dingoes from the fowl-house! Once the corn ripened it did n't take long to pull it, but Dad had to put on his considering-cap when we came to the question of getting it in.

To hump it in bags seemed inevitable till Dwyer asked Dad to give him a hand to put up a milking-yard.

Then Dad's chance came, and he seized it.
Dwyer, in return for Dad's labour, carted in the corn and took it to the railway-station when it was shelled.

Yes, when it WAS shelled! We had to shell it with our hands, and what a time we had! For the first half-hour we did n't mind it at all, and shelled cob after cob as though we liked it; but next day, talk about blisters! we could n't close our hands for them, and our faces had to go without a wash for a fortnight.
Fifteen bags we got off the four acres, and the storekeeper undertook to sell it.