‘It will be a fine day, to be sure!’ she said.  ’The farmer will get in his hay!’ and then she stood looking as if something had caught her attention.

‘What do you see, Mother?’ asked Alfred.

‘I was looking what that was under yon hay-cock,’ said Mrs. King; ‘and I do believe it is some one sleeping there.’

‘Ha!’ cried Alfred.  ’I dare say it is the boy that would not have Miss Jane’s sixpence.’

‘I’m sure I hope he’s after no harm,’ said Mrs. King; ’I don’t like to have tramps about so near.  I hope he means no mischief by the farmer’s poultry.’

’He can’t be one of that sort, or he wouldn’t have refused the money,’ said Alfred.  ’How nice and cool it must be sleeping in the hay!  I’ll warrant he doesn’t lie awake.  I wish I was there!’

‘You’ll know what to be thankful for one of these days, my poor lad,’ said his mother, sighing; then yawning, she said, ’I must go back to bed.  Mind you call out, Alfred, if you hear anything like a noise in the farmyard.’

This notion rather interested Alfred; he began to build up a fine scheme of shouting out and sending Harold to the rescue of the cocks and hens, and how well he would have done it himself a year ago, and pinned the thief, and fastened the door on him.  Not that he thought this individual lad at all likely to be a thief, nor did he care much for Farmer Shepherd, who was a hard man and no favourite; but to catch a thief would be a grand feat.  And while settling his clever plan, and making some compliments for the magistrate to pay him, Alfred, fanned by the cool breeze, fell into a sound sleep, and did not wake till the sun was high, and all the rest of the house were up and dressed.

That good sleep made him much more able to bear the burden of the day.  First, his mother came with the towel and basin, and washed his face and hands; and then he had his little book, and said his prayers; and somehow to-day he felt so much less fractious than usual, that he asked to be taught patience, and not only to be made well, as he had hitherto done.

That over, he lay smiling as he waited for his breakfast, and when Ellen brought it to him, he had not one complaint to make, but ate it almost with a relish.  ‘Is that boy gone?’ he asked Ellen, as she tidied the room while he was eating.

’What, the dirty boy?  No, there he is, speaking to the farmer.  Will he beg of him?’

‘Asking for work, more likely.’

‘I’d sooner give work to a pig at once,’ said Ellen; ’but I do believe he’s getting it.  I fancy they are short of hands for the hay.  Yes, he’s pointing into the field.  Ay, and he’s sending him into the yard.’

‘I hope he’ll give him some breakfast,’ said Alfred.  ’Do you know he slept all night on a hay-cock?’

’Yes, so Mother said, just like a dog; and he got up like a dog this morning,—­never so much as washed himself at the river.  Why, he’s coming here!  Whatever does he want?’