The country was level, and casting his eyes about, he saw, at no great
distance, what looked like a farmstead. He knew cows were milked
early, but did not know what time it was. Hoping anyhow to reach the
place before the milk was put away in the pans, he set out to run
straight across the fields. But he soon found he could not run, and
had to drop into a walk.

When he got into the yard, he saw a young woman carrying a foaming
pail of milk across to the dairy. He ran to her, and addressed her
with his usual "Please, ma'am;" but the pail was heavy, and she kept
on without answering him. Clare followed her, and looking into the
dairy, saw an elderly woman.

"Please, ma'am, could you afford me as much fresh milk as would fill
that bottle?" he said, showing it.

"Well, my man," she answered pleasantly, "I think we might venture as
far without fear of the workhouse! But what on earth made you bring
such a thimble of a bottle as that?"

"I have no money to pay for it, you see, ma'am; and I thought a little
bottle would be better to beg with; it wouldn't be so hard on the
farmer!"

"Bless the boy! Much good a drop of milk like that will do him!" said
the woman, turning to the girl "Is it for your mother's tea?"

"No, ma'am; it's for a baby--a very little baby, ma'am!--I think it
will hold enough," he added, giving an anxious glance at the bottle in
his hand, "to keep her alive till I get work."