"I know it, father; but I was reading in a daily paper, not long since, of a boy, as poor as myself, who was worth twenty-five thousand dollars by the time he was thirty. Why shouldn't this happen to me?"
"Don't build castles in the air, Tom," said his mother sensibly.
"At least, mother, I may hope for good luck. I have been wanting to talk to you both about my future prospects. I shall be sixteen next week, and it is time I did something."
"You are doing something—working on the farm now, Tom."
"That don't count. Father advises me not to be a farmer, and I agree with him. I think I am capable of making my way in the world in some other way, where I can earn more money. There is Walter, who likes the country, to stay with you."
Walter, the third child, was now twelve years of age, with decided country tastes.
"I would like to be a farmer as well as anything," said Walter. "I like the fresh air. I shouldn't like to be cooped up in a store, or to live in the city. Let Tom go if he likes."
"I have no objection," said Mr. Nelson; "but I have neither money nor influence to help him. He will have to make his own way."
"I am not afraid to try," said Tom courageously. "From this day I will look out for a chance, if you and mother are willing."
"I shall not oppose your wishes, Tom," said Mrs. Nelson gravely, "though it will be a sad day for me when you leave your home."