o! that's a good joke! Money's scarce, and I'd rather pay in
victuals, if it's all the same to you."

"Do you generally find people willing to work for their board?" asked
Carl, who knew that he was being imposed upon.

"Well, I might pay a leetle more. You work for me till sundown, and I'll
give you dinner and supper, and--fifteen cents."

Carl wanted to laugh. At this rate of compensation he felt that it would
take a long time to make a fortune, but he was so hungry that he would
have accepted board alone if it had been necessary.

"I agree," he said. "Shall I leave my rake here?"

"Yes; it'll be all right."

"I'll take along my valise, for I can't afford to run any risk of losing
it."

"Jest as you say."

Five minutes brought them to the farmhouse.

"Can I wash my hands?" asked Carl.

"Yes, you can go right to the sink and wash in the tin basin. There's a
roll towel behind the door. Mis' Perkins"--that was the way he addressed
his wife--"this is a young chap that I've hired to help me hayin'. You
can set a chair for him at the table."

"All right, Silas. He don't look very old, though."

"No, ma'am. I ain't twenty-one yet," answered Carl, who was really
sixteen.

"I shouldn't say you was. You ain't no signs of a mustache."

"I keep it short, ma'am, in warm weather," said Carl.

"It don't dull a razor any to cut it in cold weather, does it?" asked
the farmer, chuckling at his joke.

"Well, no, sir; I can't say it does."

It was a boiled dinner that the farmer's wife provided, corned beef and
vegetables, but the plebeian meal seemed to Carl the best he ever ate.
Afterwards there was apple pudding, to which he did equal justice.

"I never knew work improved a fellow's appetite so," reflected the young
traveler. "I never ate with so much relish at home."

After dinner they went back to the field and worked till the supper
hour, five o'clock. By that time all the hay had been put into the barn.

"We've done a good day's work," said the farmer, in a tone of
satisfaction, "and only just in time. Do you see that dark cloud?"

"Yes, sir."

"In half an hour there'll be rain, or I'm mistaken. Old Job Hagar is
right after all."

The farmer proved a true prophet. In half an hour, while they were at
the supper table, the rain began to come down in large drops--forming
pools in the hollows of the ground, and drenching all exposed objects
with the largesse of the heavens.

"Where war you a-goin' to-nig