"He's a hard-working man, and always was, Nat. He doesn't believe in wasting time." "But a fellow ought to have a little time off." "That may be true." "Don't you think I work pretty hard for a boy of my age?" "I do, Nat." "Uncle Abner wants to make a regular slave out of a fellow." "Didn't he say you were to help him milk to-night?" "Yes, and I might as well get at it right away. If I don't, he'll give me another jawing," answered the boy, and placing his fish on a bench, he strode off toward the barnyard. Nat Nason was an orphan, the only child of Mr. William Nason, who had been a brother to the late Mrs. Balberry. The boy's father had been killed in a runaway and his mother had never gotten over the shock of the sudden death. When the youth found himself an orphan he was taken in by his Aunt Mary, who did what she could for him. The Nasons had not been rich, so there was little or no money coming to Nat. From the start he was told that he must earn his own living, and this he proceeded to do to the best of his ability. The death of his Aunt Mary was almost as much of a blow to the lad as the loss of his mother, for it left him under the entire charge of his uncle, Abner Balberry. The latter had no children of his own and he made Nat work as hard as if he were a full-grown man. The Balberry farm was located in Ohio, not far from the town of Caswell. It consisted of one hundred acres of good land, with a house and several outbuildings. Among his neighbors Abner Balberry was considered the meanest man in the district. Abner himself thought he was a pretty good man and he counted himself a real "pillow" of the church, as he expressed it. For two years life on the Balberry farm had been one continual grind to Nat Nason. He was expected to work from morning to night, and such a thing as a whole day off was utterly unknown to him. He received next to nothing in the way of spending money. "I'll save the money fer ye," Abner Balberry would say, when questioned on the subject. "'Tain't good fer boys to have too much cash on hand. It makes 'em reckless." "But you never give me anything," had been Nat's answer. "Never mind--I'm a-givin' you a good home an' good eatin'," was the answer. The good home and good fare were something to be questioned. Nat's room was a small one under the roof, his clothing usually made over from the garments worn by Mr. Balberry, and such a thing as an elaborate table was unknown on the farm. Many times Mrs. Felton had wished to cook more, or make some fancy dishes, but Abner Balberry had always stopped her from doing such a thing. "Plain fare is good enough," he would say. "An' if ye eat too much it only brings on the dyspepsy." More than once Nat went to bed feeling positively hungry. When Nat reached the barnyard he found his uncle already there with the milk pails and milking an old white cow called Sukey.