And so poor Dan worked until nearly every night he was so tired he could hardly sleep.
Dan had an ambition to be something more than a mere farm-hand. He was better educated than most boys in his circumstances, for his father had been a school teacher in a neighboring village, until failing health had caused him to resign his position.
Mr. Hardy had instructed his son in several branches, and the boy had a real love for learning, though his opportunities were small.
Among his choicest possessions, and, in fact, one of his very few left after the debts were paid for his mother’s funeral, was a small case of books of instruction.
When Dan went to work for Mr. Savage, the boy thought he would have a chance to study, but the miserly farmer was afraid Dan would waste time over the volumes, and would not consent to allow him any hour of leisure in which to advance his lessons. Dan was thus forced to pore over the books at night, and he had to be careful even in this, as, had Mr. Savage or his wife caught him at it, they would have scolded him for burning kerosene oil.
Still Dan determined to educate himself, but it was hard work. The other boys in the village used to laugh at him for trying to use correct language, but Dan did not mind that. He hoped, some day, to take a higher position in life than that of “hired man” and he wanted to be ready for it when the opportunity came. So he took good care of his little case of books, though Mr. Savage sneered at him, and often threatened to throw them out if he caught Dan “wasting” his time over them.
“I should like to run away from him,” thought the boy, as he kept on with the tiresome labor of shelling the corn, “only I’m afraid he’d make me come back. I suppose he has some sort of a claim on me until I’m of age, and that won’t be for five years. Well, there’s no use kicking. I’ve got to stand it.”
Dan was a well built, strong lad, and he was healthy, which counts for a good deal. Consequently his gloomy thoughts did not bother him long. Still he did wish he could have it a little easier in life. He would have liked to go fishing once in a while, or take a long tramp through the woods. But the only time he did not have to work all day long was Sunday, and then his employer, who was very strict as regards church, would not hear of any one taking innocent pleasures on that day.
As Dan continued to turn the corn sheller, a shadow fell across the broad patch of sunlight that streamed in the open barn door. It was the shadow of a man, and Dan glanced up, expecting to see the angry face of Mr. Savage. Instead he beheld a stranger.
“Good morning, my lad,” spoke the man, in a rather pleasant voice. “I see you are hard at work.”