See there," he drew a paper
from his pocket, "wouldn't dare show up without 'em, ye bet, eh, Tim!
Why, it's her egg and butter money and she wants value fer it, she does.
Well, so long, Sam, see ye later," and with the triumphant Tim he made
for the big tent, leaving a wrathful and disappointed man behind him.
Cameron spent the rest of the day partly in "taking in" the circus
and partly in conversing with the farmers who seemed to have taken
possession of the town; but in answer to his most diligent and careful
enquiries he could hear of no position on a farm for which he could
honestly offer himself. The farmers wanted mowers, or cradlers, or good
smart turnip hands, and Cameron sorrowfully had to confess he was none
of these. There apparently was no single bit of work in the farmer's
life that Cameron felt himself qualified to perform.
It was wearing towards evening when Cameron once more came across Tim.
He was standing outside the bar room door, big tears silently coursing
down his pale and freckled cheeks.
"Hello!" cried Cameron, "what's up old chap? Where's your dad, and has
he got his groceries yet?"
"No," said Tim, hastily wiping away his tears and looking up somewhat
shyly and sullenly into Cameron's face. What he saw there apparently won
his confidence.
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