Bound to Rise; Or Up the Ladder Page 2

  CHAPTER II. A CALAMITY

  Efforts for the recovery of the cow went on. Elihu Perkins exhaustedall his science in her behalf. I do not propose to detail his treatment,because I am not sure whether it was the best, and possibly some of myreaders might adopt it under similar circumstances, and then blame mefor its unfortunate issue. It is enough to say that the cow grew rapidlyworse in spite of the hot-water treatment, and about eleven o'clockbreathed her last. The sad intelligence was announced by Elihu, whofirst perceived it.

  "The critter's gone," he said. "'Tain't no use doin' anything more."

  "The cow's dead!" repeated Mr. Walton, sorrowfully. He had known for anhour that this would be the probable termination of the disease. Stillwhile there was life there was hope. Now both went out together.

  "Yes, the critter's dead!" said Elihu, philosophically, for he lostnothing by her. "It was so to be, and there wa'n't no help for it.That's what I thought from the fust, but I was willin' to try."

  "Wasn't there anything that could have saved her?"

  Elihu shook his head decidedly.

  "If she could a-been saved, I could 'ave done it," he said. "What Idon't know about cow diseases ain't wuth knowin'."

  Everyone is more or less conceited. Elihu's conceit was as to hisscientific knowledge on the subject of cows and horses and theirdiseases. He spoke so confidently that Mr. Walton did not venture todispute him.

  "I s'pose you're right, Elihu," he said; "but it's hard on me."

  "Yes, neighbor, it's hard on you, that's a fact. What was she wuth?"

  "I wouldn't have taken forty dollars for her yesterday."

  "Forty dollars is a good sum."

  "It is to me. I haven't got five dollars in the world outside of myfarm."

  "I wish I could help you, neighbor Walton, but I'm a poor man myself."

  "I know you are, Elihu. Somehow it doesn't seem fair that my only cowshould be taken, when Squire Green has got ten, and they're all aliveand well. If all his cows should die, he could buy as many more and notfeel the loss."

  "Squire Green's a close man."

  "He's mean enough, if he is rich."

  "Sometimes the richest are the meanest."

  "In his case it is true."

  "He could give you a cow just as well as not. If I was as rich as he,I'd do it."

  "I believe you would, Elihu; but there's some difference between you andhim."

  "Maybe the squire would lend you money to buy a cow. He always keepsmoney to lend on high interest."

  Mr. Walton reflected a moment, then said slowly, "I must have a cow, andI don't know of any other way, but I hate to go to him."

  "He's the only man that's likely to have money to lend in town."

  "Well, I'll go."

  "Good luck to you, neighbor Walton."

  "I need it enough," said Hiram Walton, soberly. "If it comes, it'll bethe first time for a good many years."

  "Well, I'll be goin', as I can't do no more good."

  Hiram Walton went into the house, and a look at his face told his wifethe news he brought before his lips uttered it.

  "Is she dead, Hiram?"

  "Yes, the cow's dead. Forty dollars clean gone," he said, ratherbitterly.

  "Don't be discouraged, Hiram. It's bad luck, but worse things mighthappen."

  "Such as what?"

  "Why, the house might burn down, or--or some of us might fall sick anddie. It's better that it should be the cow."

  "You're right there; but though it's pleasant to have so many childrenround, we shan't like to see them starving."

  "They are not starving yet, and please God they won't yet awhile. Somehelp will come to us."

  Mrs. Walton sometimes felt despondent herself, but when she saw herhusband affected, like a good wife she assumed cheerfulness, in order toraise his spirits. So now, things looked a little more hopeful to him,after he had talked to his wife. He soon took his hat, and approachedthe door.

  "Where are you going, Hiram?" she asked.

  "Going to see if Squire Green will lend me money; enough to buy anothercow."

  "That's right, Hiram. Don't sit down discouraged, but see what you cando to repair the loss."

  "I wish there was anybody else to go to. Squire Green is a very meanman, and he will try to take advantage of any need."

  "It is better to have a poor resource than none at all."

  "Well, I'll go and see what can be done."

  Squire Green was the rich man of the town. He had inherited from hisfather, just as he came of age, a farm of a hundred and fifty acres, anda few hundred dollars.

  The land was not good, and far from productive; but he had scrimped andsaved and pinched and denied himself, spending almost nothing, till thelittle money which the farm annually yielded him had accumulated toa considerable sum. Then, too, as there were no banks near at handto accommodate borrowers, the squire used to lend money to his poorerneighbors. He took care not to exact more than six per cent. openly, butit was generally understood that the borrower must pay a bonus besidesto secure a loan, which, added to the legal interest, gave him a veryhandsome consideration for the use of his spare funds. So his moneyrapidly increased, doubling every five or six years through his shrewdmode of management, and every year he grew more economical. His wife haddied ten years before. She had worked hard for very poor pay, for thesquire's table was proverbially meager, and her bills for dress, judgingfrom her appearance, must have been uncommonly small.

  The squire had one son, now in the neighborhood of thirty, but he hadnot been at home for several years. As soon as he attained his majorityhe left the homestead, and set out to seek his fortune elsewhere. Hevowed he wouldn't any longer submit to the penurious ways of the squire.So the old man was left alone, but he did not feel the solitude. He hadhis gold, and that was company enough. A time was coming when the twomust part company, for when death should come he must leave the goldbehind; but he did not like to think of that, putting away the ideaas men will unpleasant subjects. This was the man to whom Hiram Waltonapplied for help in his misfortune.

  "Is the squire at home?" he asked, at the back door. In that householdthe front door was never used. There was a parlor, but it had not beenopened since Mrs. Green's funeral.

  "He's out to the barn," said Hannah Green, a niece of the old man, whoacted as maid of all work.

  "I'll go out there."

  The barn was a few rods northeast of the house, and thither Mr. Waltondirected his steps.

  Entering, he found the old man engaged in some light work.

  "Good morning, Squire Green."

  "Good morning, Mr. Walton," returned the squire.

  He was a small man, with a thin figure, and a face deep seamed withwrinkles, more so than might have been expected in a man of his age, forhe was only just turned of sixty; but hard work, poor and scanty foodand sharp calculation, were responsible for them.

  "How are you gettin' on?" asked the squire.

  This was rather a favorite question of his, it being so much the customfor his neighbors to apply to him when in difficulties, so that theirmisfortune he had come to regard as his harvests..

  "I've met with a loss," answered Hiram Walton.

  "You don't say so," returned the squire, with instant attention. "What'shappened?"

  "My cow is dead."

  "When did she die?"

  "This morning."

  "What was the matter?"

  "I don't know. I didn't notice but that she was welt enough lastnight; but this morning when I went out to the barn, she was lying downbreathing heavily."

  "What did you do?"

  "I called in Elihu Perkins, and we worked over her for three hours; butit wasn't of any use; she died half an hour ago."

  "I hope it isn't any disease that's catchin'," said the squire in alarm,thinking of his ten. "It would be a bad job if it should get amongmine."

  "It's a bad job for me, squire. I hadn't but one cow, and she's gone."

  "Just so, just so. I s
'pose you'll buy another."

  "Yes, I must have a cow. My children live on bread and milk mostly.Then there's the butter and cheese, that I trade off at the store forgroceries."

  "Just so, just so. Come into the house, neighbor Walton."

  The squire guessed his visitor's business in advance, and wanted to taketime to talk it over. He would first find out how great his neighbor'snecessity was, and then he accommodated him, would charge himaccordingly.