'I'm sure I hope he's after no harm,' said Mrs. King; 'I don't like
to have tramps about so near. I hope he means no mischief by the
farmer's poultry.'

'He can't be one of that sort, or he wouldn't have refused the
money,' said Alfred. 'How nice and cool it must be sleeping in the
hay! I'll warrant he doesn't lie awake. I wish I was there!'

'You'll know what to be thankful for one of these days, my poor lad,'
said his mother, sighing; then yawning, she said, 'I must go back to
bed. Mind you call out, Alfred, if you hear anything like a noise in
the farmyard.'

This notion rather interested Alfred; he began to build up a fine
scheme of shouting out and sending Harold to the rescue of the cocks
and hens, and how well he would have done it himself a year ago, and
pinned the thief, and fastened the door on him. Not that he thought
this individual lad at all likely to be a thief, nor did he care much
for Farmer Shepherd, who was a hard man and no favourite; but to
catch a thief would be a grand feat. And while settling his clever
plan, and making some compliments for the magistrate to pay him,
Alfred, fanned by the cool breeze, fell into a sound sleep, and did
not wake till the sun was high, and all the rest of the house were up
and dressed.

That good sleep made him much more able to bear the burden of the
day. First, his mother came with the towel and basin, and washed his
face and hands; and then he had his little book, and said his
prayers; and somehow to-day he felt so much less fractious than