There went with him to Chester two other friends besides Bates—one his cousin, William Boynton, the other a lad named Orrin H. Judd. These three being all poor boys, they arranged to live cheaply. Garfield himself had only seventeen dollars, which Thomas and his mother had saved for him to begin on; and he expected to make that go a long way by working at his old carpenter trade at odd hours, as well as by economy in spending money. So the trio kept “bachelors’ hall” in a rough shanty, which they fitted up with some articles brought from home; and a poor woman near by cooked their meals for some paltry sum. There came a time when even this kind of life was thought extravagant. Garfield had read an autobiography of Henry C. Wright, who related a tale about supporting life on bread and crackers. So they dismissed their French cook, and did the work themselves. This did not last long, but it showed them what they could do. “What tho’ on hamely fare we dine, Wear hoddin gray, and a’ that; Gie fools their silks and knaves their wine, A man’s a man for a’ that!” Life at college on such a scale as this lacks polish, but may contain power. The labors which James A. Garfield performed at this academy, in the one term, from his arrival on March 6, 1849, to the end, were probably more than equal to the four years’ studies of many a college graduate. He never forgot a moment the purpose for which he was there. Every recitation found his work well done; every meeting of the literary society knew his presence and heard his voice. The library was his favorite corner of the building. A new world was to be conquered in every science, a new country in every language. Thus a year passed, and Garfield’s first term at Geauga was ended. During the summer vacation he was constantly busy; first he helped his brother to build a barn at home, then turned back for a season to his old business as a wood-cutter, and then worked in the harvest-field. About the latter a good story remains to us. With two well-grown, but young, school-fellows, James applied to a farmer who needed more hands, asking employment. The farmer thought them rather too young for the business; but, as they offered to work for “whatever he thought right,” he agreed, thinking it would not be much. But they had swung the scythe before, and soon made it a warm task for the other men to keep even with them. The old man looked on in mute admiration for a while, and finally said to the beaten men: “You fellows had better look to your laurels; them boys are a beatin’ ye all holler.” The men, thus incited to do their best, worked hard; but they had begun a losing battle, and the Garfield crowd kept its advantage. When settling time came round, these “boys” were paid men’s full wages.