"I don't know about that. I shan't count my chickens before they
are hatched. Only if I am to get the prize I should like to have
mother there."

"I know you're a good scholar, and have improved your time," said
Mrs. Walton. "I wish your father was rich enough to send you to
college."

"I should like that very much," said Harry, his eyes sparkling at
merely the suggestion.

"But it isn't much use hoping," continued his mother, with a sigh.
"It doesn't seem clear whether we can get a decent living, much
less send our boy to college. The cow is a great loss to us."

Just then Mr. Walton came in from the barn.

"How do you like the new cow, father?" asked Harry.

"She isn't equal to our old one. She doesn't give as much milk
within two quarts, if this morning's milking is a fair sample."

"You paid enough for her," said Mrs. Walton.

"I paid too much for her," answered her husband, "but it was the
best I could do. I had to buy on credit, and Squire Green knew I
must pay his price, or go without."

"Forty-three dollars is a great deal of money to pay for a cow."