"Do you think," said Harry, laying down the book on the table, and looking up earnestly, "do you think, mother, I could any way earn the forty dollars before it is to be paid?"
"You, Harry?" repeated his mother, in surprise, "what could you do to earn the money?"
"I don't know, yet," answered Harry; "but there are a great many things to be done."
"I don't know what you can do, except to hire out to a farmer, and they pay very little. Besides, I don't know of any farmer in the town that wants a boy. Most of them have boys of their own, or men."
"I wasn't thinking of that," said Harry. "There isn't much chance there."
"I don't know of any work to do here."
"Nor I, mother. But I wasn't thinking of staying in town."
"Not thinking of staying in town!" repeated Mrs. Walton, in surprise. "You don't want to leave home, do you?"
"No, mother, I don't want to leave home, or I wouldn't want to, if there was anything to do here. But you know there isn't. Farm work wont' help me along, and I don't' like it as well as some other kinds of work. I must leave home if I want to rise in the world."
"But your are too young, Harry."