At the lake, Hollanden went pickerel fishing, lost his hook in a gaunt, gray , and earned much distinction by his skill in discovering words to express his emotion without resorting to the list ordinarily used in such cases. The younger Miss Worcester ruined a new pair of boots, and Stanley sat on the bank and howled the song of the . At the conclusion of the festivities Hollanden said, "Billie, you ought to take the boat back."  
"Why had I? You borrowed it."
 
"Well, I borrowed it and it was a lot of trouble, and now you ought to take it back."
 
Ultimately Hawker said, "Oh, let's both go!"
 
On this journey Hawker made a long speech to his friend, and at the end of it he exclaimed: "And now do you think she cares so much for Oglethorpe? Why, she as good as told me that he was only a very great friend."
 
Hollanden wagged his head . "What a woman says doesn't amount to shucks. It's the way she says it—that's what counts. Besides," he cried in a brilliant afterthought, "she wouldn't tell you, anyhow, you fool!"
 
"You're an encouraging brute," said Hawker, with a rueful grin.
 
Later the Worcester girls seized upon Hollanden and piled him high with ferns and . They dragged the long gray from the chins of venerable pines, and ran with them to Hollanden, and dashed them into his arms. "Oh, hurry up, Hollie!" they cried, because with his great load he frequently fell behind them in the march. He once refused to carry these things another step. Some distance farther on the road he positively refused to carry this old truck another step. When almost to the inn he positively refused to carry this senseless rubbish another step. The Worcester girls had such vivid contempt for his expressed that they neglected to tell him of any they might have had for his noble struggle.
 
As Hawker and Miss Fanhall proceeded slowly they heard a voice ringing through the : "Whoa! Haw! Git-ap, blast you! Haw! Haw, drat your hides! Will you haw? Git-ap! ! Whoa!"
 
Hawker said, "The others are a good ways ahead. Hadn't we better hurry a little?"
 
The girl obediently mended her pace.
 
"Whoa! haw! git-ap!" shouted the voice in the distance. "Git over there, Red, git over! Gee! Git-ap!" And these cries pursued the man and the maid.
 
At last Hawker said, "That's my father."
 
"Where?" she asked, looking bewildered.
 
"Back there, driving those oxen."
 
The voice shouted: "Whoa! Git-ap! Gee! Red, git over there now, will you? I'll trim the shin off'n you in a minute. Whoa! Haw! Haw! Whoa! Git-ap!"
 
Hawker repeated, "Yes, that's my father."
 
"Oh, is it?" she said. "Let's wait for him."
 
"All right," said Hawker .
 
Presently a team of oxen into view around the curve of the road. They swung their heads slowly from side to side, under the , and looked out at the world with their great eyes, in which was a mystic note of their , submissive, toilsome lives. An old creaked after them, and upon it was the tall and figure of the farmer swinging his whip and yelling: "Whoa! Haw there! Git-ap!" The and flew over the broad backs of the animals.
 
"Hello, father!" said Hawker.
 
"Whoa! Back! Whoa! Why, hello, William, what you doing here?"
 
"Oh, just taking a walk. Miss Fanhall, this is my father. Father——"
 
"How d' you do?" The old man balanced himself with care and then raised his straw hat from his head with a quick gesture and with what was perhaps a slightly apologetic air, as if he feared that he was rather over-doing the ceremonial part.
 
The girl later became very intent upon the oxen. "Aren't they nice old things?" she said, as she stood looking into the faces of the team. "But what makes their eyes so very sad?"
 
"I dunno," said the old man.
 
She was unable to resist a desire to pat the nose of the nearest ox, and for that purpose she stretched a cautious hand. But the ox moved restlessly at the moment and the girl put her hand behind ............