Then the force of the whirlwind spends itself; some of the hay falls on the oaks, and some drifts with the breeze across the field before it sinks.
This decides him at once.

He resolves to have all the hay carted that he can, and the remainder put up into haycocks.

The men grumble when they hear it; perhaps a year ago they would have openly mutinied, and refused to work beyond the usual hour.

But, though wages are still high, the labourers feel that they are not so much the masters as they were--they grumble, but obey.

The haycocks are put up, and the rick-cloth unfolded over the partly made rick.