"Where did you come from?" asked Daddy Brown, as Mrs. Brown was setting out some food.
"I come from Benton," the boy answered, naming a city about twenty miles away. "I've lived there all my life until about a week ago, and I wish I was back there now."
"How did you come to leave?"
"Well, all my folks died, and I couldn't make much of a living selling papers, running errands and blacking shoes, so when a farmer down in the city market, said he wanted a boy on his farm, I said I'd come and work for him.
"I rode out on his wagon, after he had sold all his stuff one day, and I came to a place called Fayetteville."
"Yes, I know where that is," said Mr. Brown. "It's on the other side of the lake."
"I went to work for the farmer," said the ragged boy, who gave his name as Tom Vine, "but it was worse than being in the city. I never had a minute's rest and I didn't get enough to eat. I wasn't used to working out in the hot sun, and my legs and arms seemed as if they'd burn off me."
"Yes, I can see you're pretty well burned," said Mr. Brown. "Then you ran away?"
"Yes, sir. I couldn't stand it any longer. The farmer and his hired man used to whip me if I made a mistake, or if I didn't get up early enough. And they used to get up before daylight. So I made up my mind to run away, and go back to the city.
"I used to think the country was nice," the ragged boy went on, "but I don't any more. I don't mind working, but I don't want to be starved and whipped all the while. So I ran off, but I guess I got lost, for I can't find the way back to the city. I don't know what to do. When I got here, and saw that sign about resting, I thought that was what I needed. So I came in."