"You, Harry?" repeated his mother, in surprise, "what could you do
to earn the money?"

"I don't know, yet," answered Harry; "but there are a great many
things to be done."

"I don't know what you can do, except to hire out to a farmer, and
they pay very little. Besides, I don't know of any farmer in the
town that wants a boy. Most of them have boys of their own, or
men."

"I wasn't thinking of that," said Harry. "There isn't much chance
there."

"I don't know of any work to do here."

"Nor I, mother. But I wasn't thinking of staying in town."

"Not thinking of staying in town!" repeated Mrs. Walton, in surprise.
"You don't want to leave home, do you?"

"No, mother, I don't want to leave home, or I wouldn't want to,
if there was anything to do here. But you know there isn't. Farm
work wont' help me along, and I don't' like it as well as some other
kinds of work. I must leave home if I want to rise in the world."

"But your are too young, Harry."

This was touching Harry on a tender spot. No boy of fourteen likes