Even Hamp's mother was discouraged. Hamp was always "pottering," she said, instead of attending to his books.
"Why," she said, "he's been fooling with a spring up on the hill back of the house the whole season through. He's laid pipes to bring the water down here, and now he's turned the whole house into a mill." Then she would show her visitor what Hamp had done. He had constructed an ingenious water-wheel with which to make the most of the power afforded by the spring, and had set it at a variety of tasks. A stretch of line shafting passed under the floor of the house, and bands were passed through the floor to the churn and the sewing-machine, and even the sausage-chopper could be attached at will. "I don't deny that it's handy, and saves work," said his mother. "And now he's made a sort of fan in the dining-room, and has set that going too, so that it keeps the flies off the table. If we had a baby in the house, I believe he'd make the water rock the cradle. But it's discouraging about his studies. Mr. Penruddock is in despair, and says he don't know what is to be made of the boy."
The summer proved to be a very dry one, and the gardens especially suffered for water. When the people began to complain, Hamp had an idea. He always had an idea when an emergency arose. He went into his mother's garden and worked all day, digging a trench down the middle, and making little trenches at right angles to the main one, so that each bed was surrounded by them, and the larger beds crossed as well. He was very careful to keep all these trenches on one level. When he had finished, he laid a drain from his water-wheel to the main trench, so that the waste water, after turning the wheel, was carried into the garden and emptied into the trench. Little by little the main trench filled; then the water trickled into the smaller trenches, and as the spring from which it came was a never-failing one, the garden was supplied with water throughout the dry, hot summer, and such a garden nobody in that region had seen that season.
People said that Hamp See certainly was a handy sort of boy; but they were sure to add, "It's a pity he is so dull."
One day old Riley Vaughn was offering extravagant prices for horse, mule, or ox teams to haul stone. He had taken a contract to supply from his quarry the stone for the railroad bridge over Bushy Run, and now the time for delivery was near at hand, and no teams could be had. All the horses were at work on the crops, and it began to appear that old Riley must either lose money on the contract by hiring horses and mules and teamsters at ruinous prices, or forfeit the contract itself. He tried in every direction to get mules and wagons, offering twice the usual wages, but still he could get very few. He was in real trouble, with a loss of several thousands of dollars threatening him.
One day Hamp, who knew what trouble Riley was in, went down to the creek, and, cutting several twigs, began setting them up at a distance from each other, and sighting from one to the other. The few teamsters who were at work watched him curiously, but could not make out what he was doing. He went up the creek with his sticks, moving one of them at a time, and always carefully sighting from one to another, or rather from one over another to a third. In this way he worked up to the quarry, which was immediately on the creek, nearly a mile above the point where the bridge was to be built.
When he had done, he walked back, examining the banks as he went; then he presented himself before Riley Vaughn.
"Mr. Vaughn," he said, "I've an idea that will help you out of your difficulty."
"Will it hire teams to haul stone?" asked Riley.
"No; but it will enable you to haul stone without teams."