"I think Harry'll get the prize," said Tom, a boy of ten, not
heretofore mentioned. He also attended the school, but was not as
promising as his oldest brother.

"What prize?" asked Mrs. Walton, looking up with interest.

"The master offered a prize, at the beginning of the term, to the
scholar that was most faithful to his studies."

"What is the prize?"

"A book."

"Do you think you will get it, Harry?" asked his mother.

"I don't know," said Harry, modestly. "I think I have some chance
of getting it."

"When will it be given?"

"Toward the close of the afternoon."

"Maybe I can get time to come in then; I'll try."

"I wish you would come, mother," said Harry earnestly. "Only don't
be disappointed if I don't get it. I've been trying, but there
are some other good scholars."

"You're the best, Harry," said Tom.