From Farm to Fortune | Page 9

got nearly all I want now."
"Oh, then I'll go elsewhere," answered Nat.
"Hold on, not so fast. What do you want for your cow?"
"Thirty dollars."
"Phew! you don't want much."
"She's worth it. You can milk her or use her for meat, just as you
choose."
"Whose cow is she?"
"Mine."
"Yours?" And the butcher gazed at Nat curiously.
"Yes. I've owned her ever since she was a little calf."
"And now you are tired of her?"
"Not exactly that, but I want to use the money. Will you buy her?"

"Yes, but not for thirty dollars."
"How much will you give?"
"Twenty dollars."
"I don't care to sell for twenty dollars."
"That's the best I can do."
"Then I'll have to go elsewhere. Come, Jennie," and Nat turned to drive
the cow from the butcher's yard again.
"Hold on!" cried the meat man. "I'll give you twenty-two dollars."
"Make it twenty-five and I'll accept. I can't take less. I ought to get
thirty dollars."
There was some more talk, and in the end, the butcher agreed to pay
twenty-five dollars and did so. He wanted a receipt, and Nat wrote it
out for him.
"So you are Nat Nason," said the butcher. "I used to know your father.
A very nice man."
"He was a nice man."
"Live with your uncle now, don't you?"
"I have been living with him, yes. Good-day, and much obliged,"
returned the boy, and to avoid being questioned further he left the yard
at once, followed by Sam.
"You made a good bargain on the cow," said Sam. "I reckon you got
every cent she was worth."
"She was a good cow, Sam. I'm rather sorry to part with her. She was
almost like a friend."

"What are you going to do next?"
"Strike out for the city."
"I wish you luck."
"You won't tell my uncle?"
"Not a word. But, say."
"Well?"
"When you get to the city write and tell me how you like it."
"I will, Sam, and you must tell me the news from home, and how my
uncle gets along without me."
So it was arranged; and a few minutes later the two lads separated, and
Sam Price started for home.
Brookville was on a small branch railroad running to Cleveland, and by
consulting a time-table Nat learned that a train for Cleveland would
leave in ten minutes. He lost no time in purchasing a ticket, and spent
the rest of the time in eating some of the lunch he had brought along.
With over twenty-three dollars still in his pocket he felt rich, and
bought some peanuts and a cake of sweet chocolate.
When the train came along there were scarcely any passengers aboard,
so he had little difficulty in getting the seat he wanted. He sat down by
a window, with his bundle beside him, and gave himself up to thinking
and to looking at the scenery as it whirled past.
Nat had traveled but little on the cars, so the ride to Cleveland was
intensely enjoyable. The different places passed were so interesting that
he soon forgot to think about his prospects, or of what he was to do
when he arrived at the city on the lake.
"Next stop is Cleveland!" cried the conductor, standing at the open
doorway. "All change, for trains east and west!"

A moment later the train rolled into the smoky station, and bundle in
hand, Nat left the car and stepped onto the platform. From there he
walked to the street, where he gazed in some bewilderment at the
crowds of people and the swiftly moving street cars.
"Paper!" cried a newsboy. "Morning paper?"
"No, I don't want any paper," answered Nat.
"All about the big fire in Chicago, boss. Take a paper?"
"Yes, I'll take one," said Nat, and passed over the necessary change.
Off darted the newsboy, to be lost in the crowd on the other side of the
street. Nat gazed at the paper, to find that a tenement had burned out in
Chicago, with the loss of one life.
"That's not such a terrible thing--for a big city like Chicago," he mused,
and then noticed that the newspaper was two days old.
"That boy stuck me!" he muttered, and a cloud crossed his face. "I
wonder where he is?"
The boy could not be found, and in a moment Nat concluded it would
be a waste of time to look for him.
"He caught me for a greeny, true enough," he thought. "I've got to keep
my eyes open after this."
From one street Nat passed to another, gazing into the shop windows,
and wondering what he had best do next. He had at first calculated to
go to New York without delay, but now thought it