The labourers come every day, and some trifling job is found for them--the garden path is weeded, the nettles cut, and such little matters done.

Their wages are paid every week in silver and gold--harvest wages, for which no stroke of harvest work has been done.

He must keep them on, because any day the weather may brighten, and then they will be wanted.

But the weather does not brighten, and the drain of ready cash continues.

Besides the men, the mowing machine is idle in the shed.
Even if the rain ceases, the crops are so laid that it is doubtful if it can be employed.