"I hear you're a good scholar. Got the prize, didn't you?"
"Yes," said Mr. Walton; "Harry was always good at his books."
"I guess he knows enough now. You'd ought to set him to work."
"He is ready enough to work," said Mr. Walton. "He never was lazy."
"That's good. There's a sight of lazy, shiftless boys about in these days. Seems as if they expected to earn their bread 'n butter a-doin' nothin'. I've been a thinkin', neighbor Walton, that you'll find it hard to pay for that cow in six months."
"I am afraid I shall," said the farmer, thinking in surprise, "Can he be going to reduce the price?"
"So I thought mebbe we might make an arrangement to make it easier."
"I should be glad to have it made easier, squire. It was hard on me, losing that cow by disease."
"Of course. Well, what I was thinkin' was, you might hire out your boy to work for me. I'd allow him two dollars a month and board, and the wages would help pay for the cow."
Harry looked up in dismay at this proposition. He knew very well the meanness of the board which the squire provided, how inferior it was even to the scanty, but well-cooked meals which he got at home; he knew, also that the squire had the knack of getting more work out of his men than any other farmer in the town; and the prospect of being six months in his employ was enough to terrify him. He looked from Squire Green's mean, crafty face to his father's in anxiety and apprehension. Were all his bright dreams of future success to terminate in this?