on reached the summit,
quite out of breath, but with a genial warmth in his body that he had
not experienced for some hours.

Pausing now a moment to catch his breath, he looked about him. Dim as
was the light of the fast-falling evening, he could not help giving an
exclamation of delight at the view he beheld.

To the west of him he saw the twinkling lights of several villages,
through which he had already passed. To the north, there was a vast
stretch of land, shrouded in darkness. To the south was the Sound, its
tossing waves capped with white, its islands like so many gems on the
bosom of the angry waters.

"It must be a beautiful place to live in, and I hope to find a home
here," he remarked, as he resumed his journey.

A few rods farther he reached a farmhouse and turned up to its nearest
door. As he was about to knock, a man came from the barn-yard, a little
distance away, and accosted him.

"Good-evening!"

"Good-evening!" responded the boy. Then he asked, "Is this Mr. Noman?"

"No, I'm Mr. Goodenough," answered the man, pleasantly. "Noman lives on
the adjoining farm. You will have to turn into the next gateway and go
down the lane, as his house stands some distance from the road."

"I was told," explained the boy, "that he wished to hire help, and I
hoped to get work there. Could you tell me what the prospect is?"

The man had now reached the boy's side, and was looking him over with
evident curiosity.

"Well," he replied, slowly. "I think he wants a young fellow for the
coming season, and hadn't hired any one the last I knew. But I think you
must be a stranger in these parts?"

"Yes," the youth answered, briefly.

And then, thanking the man for his information, he turned away.

"I thought so," Mr. Goodenough called after him, "else you wouldn't want
to go there to work."

The boy scarcely gave heed to the remark at the time; but it was not
long before he learned, by hard experience, the meaning of it.

A quarter of a mile up the road he reached a gate, and, passing through
it, hastened down the narrow lane till he came to a long, low,
dilapidated house; but in the darkness, which had by this time fallen,
he was not able to form any definite idea of his surroundings.

A feeble light issued from a back window, and, guided by that, he found
the rear door of the building.

To his knock there was a chorus of responses. Dogs barked, children
screamed, and above the din a gruff voice shouted, "Co