m the farm, that thrilled in the boy's
voice. So for the next half hour he told Tim tales of his own life, the
chief glory of which had been his achievements in the realm of sport,
and, before he was aware, he was describing to the boy the great
International with Wales, till, remembering the disastrous finish, he
brought his narrative to an abrupt close.

"And did yeh lick 'em?" demanded Tim in a voice of intense excitement.

"No," said Cameron shortly.

"Oh, hedges! I wisht ye had!" exclaimed Tim in deep disappointment.

"It was my fault," replied Cameron bitterly, for the eager wish in the
boy's heart had stirred a similar yearning in his own and had opened an
old sore.

"I was a fool," he said, more to himself than to Tim. "I let myself get
out of condition and so I lost them the match."

"Aw, git out!" said Tim, with unbelieving scorn. "I bet yeh didn't! My!
I wisht I could see them games."

"Oh, pshaw! Tim, they are not half so worth while as plowing, harrowing,
and running your team. Why, here you are, a boy of--how old?"

"Thirteen," said Tim.

"A boy of thirteen able to do a man's work, and here am I, a man of
twenty-one, only able to do a boy's work, and not even that. But I'm
going to learn, Tim," added Cameron. "You hear me, I am going to learn
to do a man's work. If I can," he added doubtfully.

"Oh, shucks!" replied Tim, "you bet yeh can, and I'll show yeh," with
which mutual determination they turned in at the gate of the Haley farm,
which was to be the scene of Cameron's first attempt to do a man's work
and to fill a man's place in the world.

CHAPTER III

A DAY'S WORK

The Haley farm was a survival of an ambitious past. Once the property of
a rich English gentleman, it had been laid out with an eye to appearance
rather than to profit and, though the soil was good enough, it had
never been worked to profit. Consequently, when its owner had tired
of Colonial life, he had at first rented the farm, but, finding this
unsatisfactory, he, in a moment of disgust, advertised it for sale.
Pretentious in its plan and in its appointments, its neglected and run
down condition gave it an air of decayed gentility, depressing alike
to the eye of the beholder and to the selling price of the owner. Haley
bought it and bought it cheap. From the high road a magnificent avenue
of maples led to a house of fine proportions, though sadly needing
repair. The wide verandahs, the ample steps were unpainted a