to the Forks."

"Let's go lumbering, then."

"Guess we will, Billy. You see the trees don't cost anything,--they grow
wild,--and all you've got to do is to chop 'em down."

"Yes," said Willy, "and we need red shirts for that. I never chopped a
tree's I know of. Could, though, if I had a sharp axe. Guess I could, I
mean,--I mean if the tree wasn't _too_ big!"

"O, we shan't chop 'em ourselves," said Fred, spitting grandly. "Wasn't
my father a lumberman once, and got rich by it? But did _he_ ever cut
down a tree? What's the use? Hire men, you know."

"O!" exclaimed Willy. But a gleam of common sense striking him next
moment, he added, "but the money; where'll we get that?"

"O, we'll get it after a while," replied Fred, vaguely. "My father was a
poor boy once. Fact! I've heard him tell about it. Nothing but tow-cloth
breeches, and wale-cloth jacket, off there to Groton. And he made butter
tubs and potash tubs, sir. And he took his pay in beaver skins. And then
he went afoot to Boston, and he rolled a barrel of lime round the Falls,
sir. I've heard him tell it five million times. And my aunt Tempy, she
rode a-horseback three hundred miles to Concord.--O, poh! there's lots
of ways to make money, if you try. And once he took his pay in
potash,--my father did; and he sold tobacco. O, there's ways enough to
make money if you keep your eyes open; that's what my father says."

Willy's eyes were open enough, if that were all. At any rate, he was
trying his very best to keep them open. Half of his mind was sleepy, and
half of it very wide awake indeed. There was something so inspiring in
Fred's confident tone. Rather misty his plans might be as yet; but
hadn't Willy heard, ever since he could remember, that people were sure
to succeed if they were only "up and doing?"

"Come, let's start," said he, rising eagerly, as the bell rang for nine.
"If we are going to the Forks we must go to Harlow first; I know that
much."

And turning the corner at the left, the two wise little pilgrims set out
upon their travels,--

"Strange countries for to see."

CHAPTER XI.

TO THE FORKS.

Willy started upon the run; but Fred, as soon as he could overtake him,
and speak for puffing, exclaimed,--

"Now, Will Parlin, what's the use? We've got a good start, and let's
take it fair and easy."

This was the most sensible remark Fred had made for the evening. Lazy
and good-for-nothing as he was, he had spoken the truth for on