k for the next six months at least is far from encouraging.
Still, I would not go back to what I have left behind for anything."
He was tired. The rain that was now falling heavily upon the roof just
over his head acted as a sedative and lulled him to sleep. But his was
not an unbroken rest, for at times he tossed to and fro and muttered
strange, disconnected sentences. One was:
"I know it was not he. I will pay it back to the last cent."
After that the troubled sleeper must have had pleasanter dreams, for a
smile played about his lips, and he murmured:
"It is all right now; I've a home at last."
From these, however, he was rudely awakened by a gruff call:
"Matt, Matt! git up an' come out to the barn."
Sleepy, bewildered, he arose and groped about in the darkness for his
clothing. By the time he was dressed a full consciousness of his
situation had come back to him, and, with a stout heart, Matt went out
to begin what was to him equally new duties and a new life.
CHAPTER II.
A LITTLE UNPLEASANTNESS.
It was still dark and the rain fell in torrents as Matt opened the
kitchen door and ran hastily out to the barn, where Mrs. Noman, who was
making preparations for breakfast, had told him he would find her
husband.
He noticed the kitchen timepiece as he passed through the room and saw
it was not yet four o'clock. Early rising was evidently one of the
things to be expected in his new home.
Reaching the barn, Matt found Mr. Noman engaged in feeding a dozen or
more gaunt and ill-kept cows, which seized the musty hay thrown down to
them with an avidity that suggested on their part a scarcity of rations.
The same untidiness that marked the house was to be seen about the barn
also, which, if anything, was in a more dilapidated condition than the
former.
"Good morning, Mr. Noman. What can I do to help you?" asked Matt,
pleasantly, as soon as he entered the barn.
"Hum! I don't suppose ye can milk?" was the rather ungracious response.
"No, sir; but I'm willing to learn," replied Matt, good-naturedly.
"Well, I'll see about that after awhile. I s'pose ye might as well begin
now as any time. But fust git up on that mow an' throw down more hay.
These pesky critters eat more'n their necks is wuth," said Mr. Noman,
kicking savagely at a cow that was reaching out for the forkful of hay
he was carrying by her.
Matt obeyed with alacrity; and, when that job was finished, it was
followed by others, inclu
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