The Hero of Hill House by Hale, Mabel

The boys helped the wounded man into his wagon and made him as comfortable as they could with some pillows and a bed-quilt, and went on with their work. Austin's guess had been right, for by the time the boys were ready to start on, Mr. Hill was able to tell them where to go.

The accidents had hindered the little caravan so much that they did not reach their destination till long after dark. They were to camp that night in the yard of the man for whom they were to work, and it was very late when they drove in and gave the customary call. Mr. Jenkins came to his door and in a few minutes was out in the yard with them. Will and Austin were out of their wagons and explaining how they had been delayed. Mr. Jenkins looked about in some perplexity.

"Where is Hill, the man I contracted the work to?" he asked. "Father is yonder in the wagon. He had an accident on the way and is not able to get out of the wagon by himself," explained Will.

Mr. Jenkins walked around to where Ned and Mr. Hill were nodding drunkenly, and turning to the boys he said, "Been drinking I guess." The boys said nothing, for both of them were heartily ashamed of their father's condition.

Mr. Jenkins, who had a kinder heart than tongue, said some very hard things that night to the stupid men, but helped the boys to get them off the wagons and into bed.

"If a man has no respect for himself, he ought to have some for his children. Think of your dad being out with his little girls on a trip like this and getting into such a condition," stormed their host. The boys made little reply, for nothing they could say could mend matters nor make them less mean. As for Henry Hill, he was past all feeling or consideration, being as stupid as if he were not a man at all. He hardly knew when he was placed in his bed.

There was little room in the ranch-house, and beds had to be piled upon the floors of some empty bins in the barn. Here the weary children were soon in sweet, forgetful sleep. When Austin lay down to rest, with his little sisters sleeping near by, he thought soberly and earnestly. His lot had been cast among the wicked, but by the grace of God he meant to make the best of it anyway, and do what he could for the little ones. It was hard to have as kind a feeling toward his father as a Christian should, but he was able to conquer himself and keep peace in his soul. Never will he forget the battle he fought that night with apprehensions, discouragements, and evil feelings toward his parent. Lying there in the dusty granary with the mice scampering about, he prayed, "O God, give me grace to feel toward Father as I should. Help me in the coming weeks to always do right. Show me how to protect the children, and forgive me for consenting to bring them on such a hazardous journey."

CHAPTER 18

SIX WEEKS OF HAYING