Naomi spent a peaceful and happy convalescence. Everything combined for her blessedness. The soft April days scattered their scent and sunshine on her bed, where she lay with her baby, full of drowsy hopes. Even Boarzell\'s firs had a mellowness about them, as if her motherhood had sweetened not only herself and those about her, but the grim face of nature militant.

Her memories of those days were full of the smell of daffodils blown in at her window from the garden and of primroses set by Reuben in a bowl beside the bed—of Reuben stooping over her, smoothing back her hair, and stroking her face with hands that quivered strangely, or holding the baby as if it were made of fire and glass.

As soon as she was well enough the christening took place in Peasmarsh church. The heir of all the Backfields was important enough to receive three Christian names—Reuben after his father, Thomas after old Gasson, and Albert after the Prince Consort. "I shall call him Albert," said Naomi.

That spring and summer Reuben worked with a light heart. His fatherhood made him proud and expansive. He would boast about the baby to Beatup, tell him how many ounces it had gained in the week, enlarge on its[Pg 85] strength and energy, with intimate details concerning its digestion—all of which were received open-mouthed by Beatup who knew pretty well as much about babies as he did about ?cumenical councils.

"He\'ll soon be able to do a bit of work wud us, Beatup," said Reuben apocalyptically.—"I\'ll have him on when he\'s ten or thereabouts, and at fifteen he\'ll be doing full man\'s work. I shouldn\'t wonder as how I\'d never want another hand but you—we could manage the pl?ace, I reckon, till the lad\'s old enough, and then there\'ll be others...."

"Yus, M?aster," said Beatup.

The second piece of land had thriven better than the first. The hops were sturdy and promising beside the brook, and on the higher grounds the new pastures fattened. Reuben had decided to dig up a couple of his old grass meadows and prepare them for grain-sowing in the autumn. The soil was good, and it was only his father\'s want of enterprise which had kept so much of Odiam as mere grazing land. As for the cows, there was ample provision for them on the new pastures, which Boarzell would continue to yield, even if it refused oats—"But I\'ll have oats there some day, I reckon," said Reuben, "oats, and barley, and ma............