ding the milking, wherein the boy proved an apt
scholar, until nearly six o'clock, when Mrs. Noman's shrill voice
summoned them to breakfast.

That meal, possibly on account of Matt's want of the good appetite he
had had the night before, seemed to him greatly inferior to his supper.
The coffee was bitter and sweetened with molasses, the johnny-cakes were
burnt, and the meat and vegetables cold.

He did his best to eat heartily of the unsavory food, however--partly
that he might not seem to his employer over-fastidious in taste, and
partly because the morning's work had taught him that he would need all
the strength he could obtain ere his day's task was over. Stormy though
it was, he felt sure Mr. Noman would find enough for him to do.

In fact, long before the first of May came, Matt realized fully the
force of the words Mr. Goodenough shouted after him the night he stopped
there to inquire the way to Mr. Noman's.

Had he really known his employer and family, he certainly would not have
been over-anxious to hire out to him for the season, for the dilapidated
condition of the buildings, and the untidiness and disorder that marked
everything about the place, were not, after all, the worst features with
which Matt had to deal. He soon found that his employer was a hard,
grasping tyrant, while his wife was a termagant, scolding and
fault-finding incessantly from morning until night. There was not an
animal on the place that escaped the abuse of the master, and not even
the master himself eluded the tirades of the mistress.

Matt, by faithfully performing every task assigned him, and thus
frequently doing twice over what a boy of his age should have been
expected to do, tried to win the approval of both Mr. Noman and his
wife. He soon found this impossible, and so contented himself with doing
what he felt to be right, and cheerfully bore the scoldings that
speedily became an hourly occurrence.

It was indeed astonishing with what good-nature Matt accepted the work
and the hard words put upon him. Mr. Noman attributed it to the paper he
had asked him to sign, and chuckled to himself at the thought that
Matt's fear of losing his wages kept him so industrious and docile.

He confidentially admitted to his wife, one day, that the boy was worth
twice what he had agreed to pay him--"only I ain't paid him nothin' as
yit," he added, with a knowing look, which his wife seemed to
understand, for she replied:

"Now yer up to