The search was a long and tedious one; for, after every thing in the closet had been thrown into the bed-room, the missing boot had not been found. Finally, Tom pulled his bed into the middle of the floor; and this movement revealed another scene of confusion. Articles of every description were mixed up in all conceivable shapes, and among them, Tom at last found his boot.
“It’s lucky that I pulled that bed out,” said he to himself; “for here are lots of things that I thought I had lost. Here’s one of the Mystery’s oars, that I accused Bob Jennings of stealing. I’ll put it right here, behind the door, so that I’ll know just where to find it the next time I want it. There’s my favorite ball-bat, that I thought Gus Miller had carried off. Here’s my fish-line, with which I once knocked off old ’Squire Thompson’s new stove-pipe hat. Wasn’t he mad, though? And here—well I declare, if here isn’t my jack-knife! I thought that was gone up, sure. I’ll put it into my pocket, for I may need it to cut switches, to drive the horses with.”
Thus enumerating the different articles which he discovered, Tom found the boot of which he was in search, and which he put into his valise, after wrapping it up in one of his clean shirts. Then the other boot was missing; he had put it somewhere, and could not find it.
“Now, just look at that,” whined Tom, as he took his stand in the middle of the room, and gazed despairingly at the numerous piles of clothing that lay scattered about the floor. “Something’s always happening to bother me. I always was the most unlucky boy in the whole world.”
Tom began to throw the clothing back into the closet, violently shaking each garment before he did so, and the missing boot was finally found on the bed. His farming outfit was now complete, with the exception of a pair of black broadcloth pants, and a jacket, which were found, after considerable trouble, and crowded into the valise, which was so full that it could not be closed. Besides, the key was lost. But Tom did not intend to look for that, for he might as well have searched for a needle in a hay-stack, as to endeavor to find so small an article as a key in his room. However, he did not need it. Placing the valise flat upon the floor, he kneeled upon it, and, exerting all his strength, succeeded in bringing the handles so close together that they could be tied with a string.
“There,” said he, with something like a sigh of relief; “that job is done. And now, I’m all ready to be a farmer. I wish Mr. Hayes would come to-night, for I don’t like to wait. When I get ready to do a thing, I want to be at it.”
Tom carried his valise down stairs, and placed it in the hall, near the door; and then, walking out on the lawn, gave himself up to the delights of dreaming.
“This is the business for me,” he soliloquized. “I’ll be certain to succeed; for if I didn’t know it, I wouldn’t attempt it. What is there to prevent my being a farmer, I’d like to know? I’ll have no arithmetic or geography lessons to learn; no writing to work at; no figures to culculate; no trading to do; no second mate to bother me; no boots to black, or beds to make up; and no wood to saw. Now, hold on a minute,” he added, shaking his head, doubtfully; “I don’t know about that. Farmers must have wood, and, perhaps, Mr. Hayes will want me to keep his galley-stove in fuel. No, sir; I won’t do it. Before I hire out to him, I’ll be particular to ask him if I shall be obliged to saw wood; and if he says ‘yes,’ I won’t go. I’ll look around and find some other farmer that wants a boy. But if he says I needn’t saw wood, I’m all right. I ought to be able to learn all about this business in a short time, and then I’ll ask father to buy me a farm and stock it for me. Then, perhaps, I might be as lucky as that man in Iowa I heard father talking about the other day. He has six thousand acres of land, and, in one year, he sold two thousand head of cattle and twenty-five hundred sheep. He doesn’t do a stitch of work, but employs all his time in riding about his farm on horseback. Now, two thousand head of cattle, at—say ten dollars apiece; that would be—would be—I wish Bob Jennings was here to tell me what it would amount to, so that I might know how much I would make if I had a farm like that.”
As these thoughts passed through Tom’s mind, he suddenly paused in his walk, and then catching up his cap, which he had thrown under one of the trees, he ran into the house, exclaiming: