d self-reliance, and fancies he is almost on the
threshold of manhood. I know boys of fourteen who look in the glass
daily for signs of a coming mustache, and fancy they can see plainly
what is not yet visible. Harry had not got as far as that, but he no
longer looked upon himself as a young boy. He was stout and strong, and
of very good height for his age, and began to feel manly. So he drew
himself up, upon this remark of his mother's, and said proudly: "I am
going on fifteen"--that sounds older than fourteen--"and I don't call
that very young."

"It seems but a little while since you were a baby," said his mother,
meditatively.

"I hope you don't think me anything like a baby now, mother," said
Harry, straightening up, and looking as large as possible.

"No, you're quite a large boy, now. How quick the years have passed!"

"And I am strong for my age, too, mother. I am sure I am old enough to
take care of myself."

"But you are young to go out into the world."

"I don't believe Franklin was much older than I, and he got along. There
are plenty of boys who leave home before they are as old as I am."

"Suppose you are sick, Harry?"

"If I am I'll come home. But you know I am very healthy, mother, and if
I am away from home I shall be very careful."

"But you would not be sure of getting anything to do."

"I'll risk that, mother," said Harry, in a confident tone.

"Did you think of this before you read that book?"

"Yes, I've been thinking of it for about a month; but the book put it
into my head to-night. I seem to see my way clearer than I did. I want
most of all, to earn money enough to pay for the cow in six months.
You know yourself, mother, there isn't any chance of father doing it
himself, and I can't earn anything if I stay at home."

"Have you mentioned the matter to your father yet, Harry?"

"No, I haven't. I wish you would speak about it tonight, mother. You can
tell him first what makes me want to go."

"I'll tell him that you want to go; but I won't promise to say I think
it a good plan."

"Just mention it, mother, and then I'll talk with him about it
to-morrow."

To this Mrs. Walton agreed, and Harry, after reading a few pages more in
the "Life of Franklin," went up to bed; but it was some time before
he slept. His mind was full of the new scheme on which he had set his
heart.

CHAPTER VII. IN FRANKLIN'S FOOTSTEPS

"Father," said Harry, the next morning, as Mr. Walton was