"How long were you in making the drawing?" she asked.

 

"Twenty minutes."

 

"And you received ten dollars. It doesn't seem possible."

 

"I wish I could work twenty minutes every week at that rate," laughed Chester. "It would pay me better than working for Silas Tripp."

 

"Perhaps you can get some more work of the same kind?"

 

"I shall send two more sketches² to Mr. Conrad in a day or two. I shall take pains and do my best."

 

Two days later Chester sent on the sketches, and then set about trying to find a job of some kind in the village. He heard of only one.

 

An elderly farmer, Job Dexter, offered him a dollar a week and board if he would work for him. He would have eight cows to milk morning and night, the care of the barn, and a multitude of "chores" to attend to.

 

"How much will you give me if I board at home, Mr. Dexter?" asked Chester.

 

"I must have you in the house. I can't have you trapesing home when you ought to be at work."

 

"Then I don't think I can come, Mr. Dexter. A dollar a week wouldn't pay me."

 

"A dollar a week and board is good pay for a boy," said the farmer.

 

"It may be for some boys, but not for me."

 

Chester reflected that if he worked all day at the farmer's he could not do any artistic³ work, and so would lose much more than he made. The sketch¹ sold by Mr. Conrad brought him in as much as he would receive in ten weeks from Farmer Dexter.

 

"Wyncombe people don't seem very liberal, mother," said Chester. "I thought Mr. Tripp pretty close, but Job Dexter beats him."

 

In the meantime he met Abel Wood carrying groceries to a family in the village.

 

"Have you got a place yet, Chester?" he asked.

 

"No; but I have a chance of one."

 

"Where?"

 

"At Farmer Dexter's."

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