Bound to Rise | Page 4

What I don't
know about cow diseases ain't wuth knowin'."
Everyone is more or less conceited. Elihu's conceit was as to his
scientific knowledge on the subject of cows and horses and their
diseases. He spoke so confidently that Mr. Walton did not venture to
dispute 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 my farm."
"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 cow
should be taken, when Squire Green has got ten, and they're all alive
and well. If all his cows should die, he could buy as many more and not
feel 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
and him."
"Maybe the squire would lend you money to buy a cow. He always
keeps money to lend on high interest."
Mr. Walton reflected a moment, then said slowly, "I must have a cow,
and I 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 be the
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 wife
the news he brought before his lips uttered it.

"Is she dead, Hiram?"
"Yes, the cow's dead. Forty dollars clean gone," he said, rather bitterly.
"Don't be discouraged, Hiram. It's bad luck, but worse things might
happen."
"Such as what?"
"Why, the house might burn down, or--or some of us might fall sick
and die. It's better that it should be the cow."
"You're right there; but though it's pleasant to have so many children
round, we shan't like to see them starving."
"They are not starving yet, and please God they won't yet awhile. Some
help will come to us."
Mrs. Walton sometimes felt despondent herself, but when she saw her
husband affected, like a good wife she assumed cheerfulness, in order
to raise 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 approached
the door.
"Where are you going, Hiram?" she asked.
"Going to see if Squire Green will lend me money; enough to buy
another cow."
"That's right, Hiram. Don't sit down discouraged, but see what you can
do to repair the loss."
"I wish there was anybody else to go to. Squire Green is a very mean
man, 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 his
father, just as he came of age, a farm of a hundred and fifty acres, and a
few hundred dollars.
The land was not good, and far from productive; but he had scrimped
and saved and pinched and denied himself, spending almost nothing,
till the little money which the farm annually yielded him had
accumulated to a considerable sum. Then, too, as there were no banks
near at t hand to accommodate borrowers, the squire used to lend
money to his poorer neighbors. He took care not to exact more than six
per cent. openly, but it was generally understood that the borrower
must pay a bonus besides to secure a loan, which, added to the legal
interest, gave him a very handsome consideration for the use of his
spare funds. So his money rapidly increased, doubling every five or six
years through his shrewd mode of management, and every year he grew
more economical. His wife had died ten years before. She had worked
hard for very poor pay, for the squire's table was proverbially meager,
and her bills for dress, judging from her appearance, must have been
uncommonly small.
The squire had one son, now in the neighborhood of thirty, but he had
not been at home for several years.