better go into the
house and do your chores, so as not to be late for school."

Harry would have liked to remain and watch the steps which were being
taken for the recovery of the cow; but he knew he had barely time to do
the "chores" referred to before school, and he was far from wishing to
be late there. He had an ardent thirst for learning, and, young as he
was, ranked first in the district school which he attended. I am not
about to present my young hero as a marvel of learning, for he was not
so. He had improved what opportunities he had enjoyed, but these were
very limited. Since he was nine years of age, his schooling had been for
the most part limited to eleven weeks in the year. There was a summer as
well as a winter school; but in the summer he only attended irregularly,
being needed to work at home. His father could not afford to hire help,
and there were many ways in which Harry, though young, could help
him. So it happened that Harry, though a tolerably good scholar, was
deficient in many respects, on account of the limited nature of his
opportunities.

He set to work at once at the chores. First he went to the woodpile and
sawed and split a quantity of wood, enough to keep the kitchen stove
supplied till he came home again from school in the afternoon. This duty
was regularly required of him. His father never touched the saw or the
ax, but placed upon Harry the general charge of the fuel department.

After sawing and splitting what he thought to be sufficient, he carried
it into the house by armfuls, and piled it up near the kitchen stove.
He next drew several buckets of water from the well, for it was washing
day, brought up some vegetables from the cellar to boil for dinner, and
then got ready for school.

CHAPTER II. A CALAMITY

Efforts for the recovery of the cow went on. Elihu Perkins exhausted
all his science in her behalf. I do not propose to detail his treatment,
because I am not sure whether it was the best, and possibly some of my
readers might adopt it under similar circumstances, and then blame me
for its unfortunate issue. It is enough to say that the cow grew rapidly
worse in spite of the hot-water treatment, and about eleven o'clock
breathed her last. The sad intelligence was announced by Elihu, who
first perceived it.

"The critter's gone," he said. "'Tain't no use doin' anything more."

"The cow's dead!" repeated Mr. Walton, sorrowfully. He had known for an
hour that this