You'll get a dollar a week and your board, and you can't do better. I
reckon dinner is about ready now."

Kit felt ready for the dinner, for the morning's ride had sharpened his
appetite. So when, five minutes later, he was summoned to the table, he
willingly accepted the invitation.

"This is my new 'prentice, Mrs. Bickford," said the blacksmith, by way
of introduction, to a spare, red headed woman, who was bustling about
the kitchen, where the table was spread.

Mrs. Bickford eyed Kit critically.

"He's one of the kid glove kind, by his looks," she said. "You don't
expect to get much work out of him, do you?"

"I reckon I will, or know the reason why," responded Bickford,
significantly.

"Set right down and I'll dish up the victuals," said Mrs. Bickford. "We
don't stand on no ceremony here. What's your name, young man?"

"People call me Kit."

"Sounds like a young cat. It's rediculous to give a boy such a name.
First thing you know I'll be calling you Kitty."

"I hope I don't look like a cat," said Kit laughing.

"You ain't got no fur on your cheeks yet," said the blacksmith, laughing
heartily at his own witticism. "What have you got for dinner, mother?"

"It's a sort of picked-up dinner," answered Mrs. Bickford. "There's some
pork and beans warmed up, some slapjacks from breakfast, and some fried
sassidges."

"Why, that's a dinner for a king," said the blacksmith, rubbing his
hands.

He took his seat, and put on a plate for Kit specimens of the delicacies
mentioned above. In spite of his appetite Kit partook sparingly,
supplementing his meal with bread, which, being from the baker's shop,
was of good quality. He congratulated himself that he was not to board
permanently at Mr. Bickford's table.

When dinner was over, the blacksmith in a genial mood said to Kit: "You
needn't begin to work till to-morrow. You can tramp round the village if
you want to."

Kit was glad of the delay, as early the next morning he expected to bid
farewell to Oakford, and thus would avoid a conflict.

He had been in Oakford before, and knew his way about. He went out of
the yard and walked about in a leisurely way. It was early in June, and
the country was at its best. The birds were singing, the fields were
green with verdure, and Kit's spirits rose. He felt that it would be
delightful to travel about the country, as he would do if he joined
Barlow's Circus.

He overtook a boy somewhat larger than himself, a stout, str