At first she was not going to eat, herself, meaning to save a part for Andy's breakfast; but our hero found her out, and declared he wouldn't eat a bit if his mother did not eat, too.

So she was forced to take her share, and it did her good, for no one can keep up a decent share of strength on bread and tea alone.
The next morning Andy went out in search of work.

He had no very definite idea where to go, or to whom to apply, but he concluded to put in an application anywhere he could.
He paused in front of the house of Deacon Jones, a hard-fisted old farmer, whose reputation for parsimony was well known throughout the village, but of this Andy, being a newcomer, was ignorant.
"Wouldn't you like to hire a good strong boy ?" he asked, entering the yard.
The deacon looked up.
"Ever worked on a farm ?" "Yes." "Can you milk ?" "Yes." "Where did you work ?" "In Carver." "What's your name ?" "Andy Burke." "Where do you live ?" "With my mother, Mrs.Burke, a little way down the road." "I know--the Widder Burke." "Have you got any work for me ?" "Wait a minute, I'll see." The deacon brought out an old scythe from the barn, and felt of the edge.

There was not much danger in so doing, for it was as dull as a hoe.
"This scythe needs sharpening," he said.

"Come and turn the grindstone." "Well, here's a job, anyhow," thought Andy.