"Well," remarked Mr. Goodenough, leaning on his wagon-seat and looking down into the smiling countenance before him, "I have lived here beside Tom Noman and his wife for a dozen years, and know them well enough to be sure that an angel couldn't long stand their fault-finding, and yet you have actually been there six weeks, and are still as cheerful as a lark on one of these beautiful spring mornings. Will you explain to me how you manage to stand it?" While he was speaking a far-away look had come into Matt's eyes, and a shudder shook his robust frame, as though he saw something very disagreeable to himself; but he answered, quietly enough: "Mr. Goodenough, there are some things in this world harder to bear than either work or unkind treatment, and I prefer even to live with Tom Noman's family rather than to go back to the life I have left behind me." With these words, Matt started up his oxen and went on, leaving Mr. Goodenough to resume his way more mystified than ever. On the first day of June, Matt asked Mr. Noman for the previous month's pay. They were at work in the cornfield, and the boy's request took his employer so by surprise that his hoe-handle dropped from his grasp. "Me pay ye now!" he exclaimed. "What air ye thinkin' of?" Then, as though another idea had come to his mind, he said, persuasively: "Ye don't need no money, an' 'twill be better to have yer pay all in a lump. Jest think how much it'll be--sixty dollars! an' all yer own." "But I have a special use for the money," persisted Matt; "and, as I have earned it, I should think you might give it to me." He spoke all the more emphatically because he knew that Mr. Noman had quite a sum of money by him, and that he could easily pay him if he chose to do so. For reply, Mr. Noman put his hand into his pocket, and, taking out his wallet, opened it. From it he drew the paper of agreement that Matt and he had signed. He slowly spelled it out, and, when he had finished, asked: "Does this here paper say anythin' about my payin' ye every month?" "No, sir," Matt reluctantly admitted. "But it does say, if ye quit yer work 'fore yer time is up, ye air to have no pay, don't it?" inquired the man, significantly. "Yes, sir," Matt replied, now realizing how mean and contemptible his employer was, and what had been his real object in drawing up that paper. "Well, how can I know ye air goin' to stay with me yer hull time till it's up?" he asked, with a show of triumph in his tones. "Do you mean to say you don't intend to pay me anything until November?" asked Matt, indignantly. "That's the agreement," answered Mr. Noman, coolly, returning the paper to his wallet and placing it in his pocket. "If ye'll keep yer part I'll keep mine." He then picked up his hoe and resumed his work.