describing is very similar to hundreds of country
schools now in existence, and Mr. Burbank is the representative of a
large class.

CHAPTER V. THE PRIZE WINNER

"Are you going to the examination to-day, mother?" asked Harry, at
breakfast.

"I should like to go," said Mrs. Walton, "but I don't see how I can.
To-day's my bakin' day, and somehow my work has got behindhand during
the week."

"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.

"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."

"Not for some cows. Some are worth more; but this one isn't."

"What do you think she is really worth?"

"Thirty-three d