“Come, Tommy,” said Mr. Hayes, “don’t you see that shower coming up? It’s goin’ to rain afore long; an’ if this hay gets wet again, it will be dollars out of my pocket. Handle that rake jest the least bit faster.”
But the hay did not get wet. The farmer had a strong force, and, when the shower came up, the last load was safely housed in the barn.
“Wal, sir, we done it, didn’t we?” said Mr. Hayes. “Now, that hay is worth twelve dollars a ton—I’ve got ’bout thirty ton, an’ that’s worth how much, Tommy?”
The time for action had arrived much sooner than Tom had expected it would. He had not decided what he would do when called upon to make an exhibition of his powers as a “lightning calculator,” and the farmer’s question was so sudden and unexpected that, for a moment, he did not know how to act. But it was only for a moment, for happening to cast his eye toward Franklin Pierce, an idea struck him, and he seized upon it at once.
“Can you tell how much it would amount to?” he asked, turning to the “best l’arnt boy in the whole family.”
“I reckon!” replied Franklin Pierce. “But can you?”
“What a question!” answered Tom, evasively. “A two-year old boy ought to do it. But I don’t believe you can.”
“Wal, now, I’ll mighty soon show you!” said Franklin Pierce, and, picking up a chip, he marked the figures upon the ground, and commenced: “Twelve times nothing is nothing,” said he. “Set down the nothing. None to carry. Twelve times three is thirty-six. Set down the thirty-six. Dad, your hay is worth three hundred and sixty dollars.”
“Is that right, Tommy?” asked the farmer, gazing proudly upon his son.
“Yes, that’s correct,” said Tom; but, fearing that he had fallen in the farmer’s estimation by not working it out himself, he continued: “He couldn’t possibly have made a mistake in a little thing like that. But after all, I didn’t suppose he could do it.”