"Guess I fell asleep," he stammered.
"Guess you'd better not fall asleep in such a damp hole as this," said the Squire, "or the rheumatism will catch your young bones.

Why aren't you home planting, sir?
I thought you were a smart boy." "He'll get it all; there ain't any use!" said Jerome, with pitiful doggedness, standing ankle-deep in brakes before the Squire.

He rubbed his eyes, heavy with sleep and tears, and raised them, dull still, into the Squire's face.
"Who do you mean by he?
Dr.Prescott ?" "Yes, sir." "Then he didn't approve of your plan ?" "He's going to take our house, and let us live in it and pay rent, and if we can't pay he's going to take our wood-lot here--" Suddenly Jerome gave a great sob; he flung himself down wildly.

"He sha'n't have it; he sha'n't--he never shall!" he sobbed, and clutched at the brakes and held them to his bosom, as if he were indeed holding some dear thing against an enemy who would wrest it from him.
Squire Eben Merritt, towering over him, with a long string of trout at his side, looked at him with a puzzled frown; then he reached down and pulled him to his feet with a mighty and gentle jerk.

"How old are you, sir ?" he demanded.