e men to load and unload."

"Are stones very heavy indeed?"

"You can try to lift one."

"I can't move it one mite, papa. I don't see what good they will do in
the cellar."

"No, I suppose not; but you will learn."

"Haw, Bright! Come up, Buck!" shouted Tom.

Both the oxen pulled with all their strength; but the ground was soft
and rising. Bertie could not see that the drag moved an inch.

Tom lashed and lashed the patient creatures, shouting with all his
might. When he found this did no good he began to swear.

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Bertie, shrinking behind his father.

"Stop!" said Mr. Curtis, in a firm, clear voice. "You must throw off
part of your load; and I want to say one thing now. I'll do all the
swearing that's done on the place."

Tom's face grew very red; but he did not speak. For one instant he
stood, and looked into his master's eye. He knew then, as well as he
did a year afterward, that the Squire meant exactly what he said.

Two large stones were thrown off; Buck and Bright pulled again, and soon
the heap on the drag was lying by the side of the other stones.

Before the oxen went away for another load, Bertie had found out that
the names of the other pair were Star and Spot, from some white marks on
their forehead. He had learned, too, why drags were better than carts to
draw large stones with.

CHAPTER VII.

THE BOY TEACHER.

While he was following his father about, Bertie forgot to watch his
donkey. When it was near dinner time, Mr. Curtis said,--

"Don't go off till I see you, Herbert, I want to ride to the
blacksmith's; and you may drive me there."

The boy started and began to look in every direction, hoping to see
Whitefoot quietly feeding on the lawn.

But neither on the hill, nor behind the chestnut grove could he be seen.
Bertie's lip quivered, and then the tears filled his eyes.

"He's gone, papa; my pretty donkey is lost."

"Don't cry, my son," said Mr. Curtis, in a cheerful tone. "Crying for a
donkey never brought one back, that I ever heard of. Take a handful of
corn from Tom's pail, and run toward the lake. Call him by name and
perhaps he will come."

Bertie hesitated, his cheeks growing very red. At last, when papa
wondered what made him delay, the little fellow asked,--

"Can't I wait till Tom comes back? I'm almost sure he'll give me some of
his corn; but mamma told me never to touch anything that belongs to the
men, without asking their leave."

"M