An infinitely pathetic but common figure--this boy on the American farm, where there is no law against child labor. To see him in his coarse clothing, his huge boots, and his ragged cap, as he staggered with a pail of water from the well, or trudged in the cold and cheerless dawn out into the frosty field behind his team, gave the city-bred visitor a sharp pang of sympathetic pain. Yet Haskins loved his boy, and would have saved him from this if he could, but he could not. By June the first year the result of such Herculean toil began to show on the farm. The yard was cleaned up and sown to grass, the garden ploughed and planted, and the house mended. Council had given them four of his cows. "Take 'em an' run 'em on shares. I don't want 'o milk s' many. Ike's away s' much now, Sat'd'ys an' Sund'ys, I can't stand the bother anyhow." Other men, seeing the confidence of Council in the newcomer, had sold him tools on time; and as he was really an able farmer, he soon had round him many evidences of his care and thrift. At the advice of Council he had taken the farm for three years, with the privilege of re-renting or buying at the end of the term. "It's a good bargain, an' y' want 'o nail it," said Council. "If you have any kind ov a crop, you c'n pay y'r debts, an' keep seed an' bread." The new hope which now sprang up in the heart of Haskins and his wife grew almost as a pain by the time the wide field of wheat began to wave and rustle and swirl in the winds of July. Day after day he would snatch a few moments after supper to go and look at it. "'Have ye seen the wheat t'-day, Nettie?" he asked one night as he rose from supper. "No, Tim, I ain't had time." "Well, take time now. Le's go look at it." She threw an old hat on her head--Tommy's hat--and looking almost pretty in her thin, sad way, went out with her husband to the hedge. "Ain't it grand, Nettie? Just look at it." It was grand. Level, russet here and there, heavy-headed, wide as a lake, and full of multitudinous whispers and gleams of wealth, it stretched away before the gazers like the fabled field of the cloth of gold. "Oh, I think--I hope we'll have a good crop, Tim; and oh, how good the people have been to us!" "Yes; I don't know where we'd be t'-day if it hadn't ben f'r Council and his wife." "They're the best people in the world," said the little woman, with a great sob of gratitude. "We'll be in the field on Monday, sure," said Haskins, gripping the rail on the fence as if already at the work of the harvest. The harvest came, bounteous, glorious, but the winds came and blew it into tangles, and the rain matted it here and there close to the ground, increasing the work of gathering it threefold.