"
"Mamma told us you were rich," said Tom in surprise. "But you can't
be, because--because--"
"Wal?" said Uncle Josh, with a slow, stupid smile.
"Because your horses are all thin, and _you_ wear these clothes; and
Aunt Hepsy doesn't dress like a lady. Rich people don't live so."
"You're a fool, youngster. Just your mother over again. You don't
know, I suppose, that to save money folks must live cheap, an' not be
all outside show. Ye'll learn better, maybe, afore ye've been long at
Thankful Rest,--Hi, Sally! Whoa, lass."
The thin, wretched-looking horse stood still, thankful to be released
from the heavy waggon; and Tom watched all his uncle's movements with
much interest. He followed him from the yard to the stable, saw him
give the five horses a scanty feed of corn and a pail of water.
"We'll go and hev a bite o' dinner now," he said; then, "Your
sister'll be indoors, I guess?"
Tom nodded, and the two proceeded to the house. Lucy was downstairs
by this time, awkwardly placing knives, forks, and plates on the
table, under Miss Hepsy's directions. A glad smile crept to her eyes
at sight of Tom; it seemed ages since he had gone out. She looked
timidly at her uncle as he shook hands with her, remarking she was a
pale-faced thing, and needed work and exercise to make her spry.
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