But this was only a specimen of the abuse to which the boy was subjected every day of his life; and, with poor food and little clothing, he was almost disgusted with his efforts to get along in the world. If Obed Swikes’s tongue was not as cutting as that of his wife, he made it up by putting heavy burdens on the boy. He called him from his bed at daylight in the morning, and kept him at work till into the night on the farm and about the barn. When he had done his errand, he was set to work without any delay, at digging early potatoes in the garden, which Swikes was to take to the village to sell in the morning. He worked till dark, and then he was called to supper. He went into the house hungry as every growing boy is, and seated himself at the table. The family, consisting of five persons, had taken the meal an hour before; but Wade was required to work as long as he could see. Wade’s supper was a bowl of milk and a plate of brown bread,--very good if there had only been enough of it, and if it had not been his diet every night in the week. The boy did not complain of his food, for he had often seen the time when he could not get even this. “Have you seen any thing of Matthew?” asked Mrs. Swikes, as Wade seated himself at table. “Yes, marm: I saw him and Lon Trustleton as I was going over to the village,” replied the weary boy; but he was careful not to say any thing more. He knew it would cost him a pounding if he told the whole truth. “He hain’t been home to his supper yet,” added Mrs. Swikes. “Do you know where he is, Wade?” “No, marm. He didn’t tell me where he was going,” answered Wade. But at this moment Matt came into the kitchen to speak for himself. He was limping, and seemed to be very sore, as well he might be after such a castigation as he had received. “Where have you been, Matthew?” asked his mother, as the stealer of peaches dragged himself into the room. “What ails you? What makes you limp and squirm so?” Matthew was the only boy of the family: the other children were all girls; and, for this reason, his parents thought more of him than of all the others, and did their best to spoil him, and succeeded remarkably well. Mrs. Swikes was anxious when she saw that something ailed her son; and her tones were quite tender, compared with those she had used to Wade. “Garlick has been licking me with a horsewhip,” moaned Matt, bursting into tears, and breaking down completely in the presence of his mother. “Lickin’ you! What on airth did he do that for?” demanded the indignant mother. “He said I stole his peaches,” sobbed Matt; “but I didn’t. It was Wade Brooks that stole ’em, and laid it to Lon and me.”