"There's the academy," said Joe: "that big white concern in the middle of the green, and with so short a steeple."

"Steeple enough," said Ford. "Are the rest churches?"

"Yes; and, if you don't go to church reg'lar, Old By'll be sure to hear of it."

"Old By" was the irreverent nickname they had selected for Dr. Abiram Brandegee; and Fuz added,—

"Never mind him, boys. He's a raspy old fellow; but he's such a little, old, withered wisp of a chap, you'll soon get used to him."

Dab was bewildered enough, just then, to wonder how such a weak-minded, malicious old dwarf as had been painted to him, could have managed to get and keep so high a position in so remarkably beautiful a place as Grantley. He said something about the village being so pretty; but Dick Lee had been staring eagerly in all directions, and replied with,—

"Jes' one little mite of a patch ob water! Is dar any fish to ketch?"

"Fish? In that pond?" said Fuz. "Why, it's alive with 'em. The people of Grantley just live on fish."

"Guess I knows 'bout how many dey is now," said Dick soberly; and he was not far from right, for there were no fish to speak of in that willow-bordered mill-pond.

"Mrs. Myers will hardly be up so early as this," said Dab. "We can get our trunks over by and by. Let's have a look at the village. Joe, it's your turn to steer now. You and Fuz know how the land lies."

They were ready enough to tell all they knew, and a good deal more; but the listeners they had that morning were not without eyes of their own, and it was not a very fatiguing task to walk all over the village of Grantley.

The first house to be studied with special care was the neat white residence of Dr. Brandegee, with its shady trees and its garden; for Joe said,—

"That's where you fellows'll have to come right after breakfast, to be examined. Oh, but won't Old By put you through!"

Dick Lee's mouth came open as he stared at the knob on the doctor's front door, and Dabney caught himself doubting if he knew the multiplication-table. Even Ford Foster wondered if there was really any thing he could teach Dr. Brandegee, and remarked to Frank Harley,—

"I s'pose you're about the only man among us that he can't corner."

"How's that?"

"Why, if he's too hard on you, you can answer him in Hindustanee. He's never been a heathen in all his life: you'd have him"—

"Shuah!" chuckled Dick.

The "green" was large and well-kept, and looked like the best kind of a ball-ground; but there was nothing wonderful about the academy building, except that it evidently had in it room enough for a great many boys.

"You'll see enough of it before you get through," said Fuz. "But there'll have to be lots of whittling done this fall."

"Whittling? what for?"

"Why, don't you see? They've gone and painted the old thing all over new. Every boy cut his name somewhere before we left last term. They're all painted over now: maybe they're puttied up level. They did that once before, and we had to cut 'em all out again."

"Oh!" said Ford, "I see: you were afraid they'd forget you. I don't believe they would."

"You haven't pointed out Mrs. Myers's," said Dabney. "It must be pretty near breakfast-time. Where is it?"

The Hart boys broke out into a joint giggle of enjoyment as Joe responded,—

"There it is,—right across there, beyond the harness-shop, opposite the other end of the green. Handy in bad weather."

"It's a pretty decent-looking house too," said Ford. "Come on: let's go over, and let her know we've arrived in port."

"Well, no," said Joe: "you fellows go over, soon as you please. Fuz and I won't take our breakfast there this morning."

"Going somewhere else, eh? Well, we'll have an eye to your trunks when they come."

The giggle grew rapidly into a laugh, as Fuz exclaimed,—

"Trunks! why, our baggage'll go to our boarding-house. We don't put up with Mother Myers this time: got a new place. Oh, but won't you fellows just love her and Almira!"

It was all out, that deep secret about their change of boarding-house; and the Hart boys had something to enjoy this time, for Dab and his friends looked at each other for a moment in blank amazement.

"All right, boys," shouted Ford, at the end of it: "here's for some breakfast. Good-morning, Joe. Day-day, Fuz. See you again by and by."

They all followed him, but they could see that there was something more hidden under the mirth of Joe and Fuz as they walked away; and they were hardly out of hearing before Dab Kinzer remarked,—

"Look a' here, boys, I move we don't give those two any fun at our expense."

"How?" asked Ford.

"If there's any thing at Mrs. Myers's that we don't like, we mustn't let them know it."

"I's keep my mouf shet if I foun' de house was an ole eel-pot," said Dick emphatically; and Frank and Ford came out even more strongly. They all seemed to feel as if some kind of a trick had been played upon them, to begin with.

However, it served to put them on their guard, and prevented any change of countenance among them when their knock at the front door of that house was answered, and the freckled face of Mrs. Myers beamed out upon them from under its thin, smooth, glistening thatch of carroty hair. She was not a handsome woman, and she had a thin nose, and a narrow mouth, and very pale blue eyes; but she was all one smile of welcome as she stood in that doorway.

"Mrs. Myers?" said Ford, with an extraordinary bow. "We arrived on the morning train. I am Mr. Foster." And then, with a half turn to the right, he continued, "Mrs. Myers—Mr. Richard Lee, Mr. Dabney Kinzer, Mr. Francis Harley. Our baggage will come over pretty soon."

"Walk in, young gentlemen, walk in. I'm happy to see you.—Almira? Here they are: put breakfast on the table right away."

"That isn't a bad beginning," thought Dab. "That sounds a good deal like what Ham said of her. She knew we must be hungry."

"Walk into the parlor, please. Breakfast'll be ready in one minute. I'll show you your rooms afterwards."

That, too, was considerate; and, when Almira herself came to the door between the parlor and the dining-room, she, too, looked as if it were quite her habit to smile, when she said,—

"Breakfast's ready."

Almira smiled, but she was too much like her mother. There was nothing at all about her to put Dabney in mind of Annie Foster, or of either of his own sisters. Samantha, or Keziah, or Pamela could have been "made over" into two Almiras, in every thing but height; and Dab made up his mind at once that either of them could beat her at smiling,—not so much, perhaps, as to mere quantity, but as to quality.

That was a breakfast which would have fully justified Ham Morris's report, for it was well cooked and plentiful. The "johnnycake," in particular, was abundant; and all the boys took to it kindly.

"Glad you like it," said Mrs. Myers. "Almira, that's one thing we mustn't forget. I was always proud of my johnny cake. There's very few know what to do with their corn-meal, after they've got it."

She did evidently, and the boys all said so except Dick Lee. He could do full justice to his breakfast, indeed; but he was saying to himself all the while,—

"I won'er 'f I'll ebber git used to dis yer. It's jes' awful, dis goin' to de 'cad'my."



CHAPTER XXVII.

A NEW KIND OF EXAMINATION.

Three large trunks and one small one were delivered at Mrs. Myers's front door before that first breakfast was disposed of; and Miss Almira remarked of the boys, a few minutes later,—

"How strong they are, especially Mr. Kinzer!"

"Don't make a mistake, Almira," said her mother in an undertone. "I'm glad the trunks are up stairs, but we mustn't begin by saying 'mister' to them. I've got all their first names. They mustn't get it into their heads that they're any thing more'n just so many boys."

She hurried up stairs, however; and it did not take long to make her new boarders "know their places," so far as their rooms were concerned. That house was largely made up of its one "wing," on the first floor of which was the dining-room and sitting-room, all in one. In the second story of it were two bedrooms, opening into each other. The first and larger one was assigned to Dab and Ford, and the inner one to Frank.

"Yours is a coop," said Ford to his friend from India; "but ours is big enough. You can come in here to study, and we'll fix it up prime. The stove's a queer one. Guess they burn wood up here mostly."

Of course, so long as there was a good "wood-lot" on the outlying farm that belonged to Mr. Hart's speculation.

The stove was a little box of an affair, with two "griddles" on top, and was quite capable of warming that floor.

"She's putting Dick away in back somewhere," said Frank. "We must look and see what she's done for him."

The main building of that house was only big enough for a "hall," a good-sized parlor opening into it on the right, a bedroom and large closet back of that, and two rooms overhead; but the kitchen and milk-room back, which must have been stuck on at a later day, had only one wide, low garret of a room in the space under the roof. It was lighted by a dormer window, and it did not contain any stove. The floor was bare, except in the spot covered by an old rug before the little narrow bed; but there was a table and a chair, by standing on either of which Dick would be able to put his hand upon the unceiled rafters and boards of the roof. On the whole, it was a room well calculated to be as hot as possible in summer, and as cold as possible in winter, but that would do very well in spring and autumn. At all events, it was "as good as he had been used to at home." Mrs. Myers herself said that to Almira; and the answer was,—

"Guess it is, and better too."

Dick never dreamed of making any criticisms. In fact, his young brains were in a whirl of excitement, through the dust of which every thing in and about Grantley took on a wonderfully rosy color.

"Dis room?" he said to his inquiring friends when they looked in on him. "How does I like dis room? It's de bes' room in de house. I shall—study—hard—in—this—room."

"Bully for you," said Ford; "but you mustn't forget there's a stove in our room, when cold weather comes. Got your books out?"

"Here they are. I will pile them upon the table."

"Stick to it, Dick," said Ford. "But it's about time we set out for Dr. Brandegee's.—Dab, hadn't we better kindle a fire before we go? It makes me feel chilly to think of it."

"We'll all be warm enough before he gets through with us," said Dab. "But the sooner we get there, the better. Maybe there are other boys, and we must go in first."

"Come on, Dick."

Not one of them seemed to be in a hurry, in spite of Dab's prudent suggestion; and at the bottom of the stairs they were met by Mrs. Myers.

"Going for your examination? That's right. Dinner'll be ready at half-past twelve. When, school's opened, it will be a few minutes earlier, so you'll have plenty of time to eat and get back. Dick, as soon as your examination's over, I want you to come right back here, so I can finish making my arrangement with you."

"Yes, ma'am. I will return at once."

"You said that tip-top," said Dab, the moment they were on the sidewalk; "but I can't guess what she means. Ham Morris made all the bargain for you when he settled for me. S'pose it's all right, though."

"Course it is. I's got to work out half my board a-doin' chores. Jes' wot I's been used to all my life."

Frank Harley had seen a great many people, considering how young he was; and he had done less talking than the rest, that morning, and more "studying" of his landlady and her daughter. The results of it came out now.

"Tell you what, boys: if I'm not mistaken, Dick Lee'll pay more for his board than we will for ours."

"I don't care," said Dick bravely. "It's wuff a good deal to feed a boy like me."

His mother had told him so, many a time; and in that matter "Glorianna" had not been so far from the truth.

Ham Morris had indeed made a careful and particular bargain for Dick, and that his duties about the house should not interfere with his studies. He had done more; for he had insisted on buying Dick's text-books for him, and had made him promise to write to him about the way things went at Grantley.

Up the street marched the four new boys, still a little slowly, until Ford broke out into a sudden word of encouragement,—

"Look here, boys, we're a set of wooden-heads! I'd like to know if we need be afraid of any thing Joe and Fuz Hart could go through?"

"Well, I guess not," replied Dab. "Let's push ahead."

He found himself leading the procession when it went through Dr. Brandegee's front gate; and there was a look of admiration on Dick's face, when he saw how promptly and courageously "Captain Dab Kinzer" pulled that door-bell.

"This way, please," said the servant who opened the door,—"into the library. The doctor'll see you in a minute."

"And we'll see him," muttered Ford, as they walked in, and he added in a whisper to Dick,—

"That's his portrait. There, over the mantel."

"Jes' so," said Dick, coming dangerously near smiling; "an' his name den was Oliver Cromwell, an' dey dressed him up in sheet iron."

That was the name printed under the engraving; but the smile had barely time to fade from Dick's face, before a door opened on the opposite side of the room, and the dreaded Principal of Grantley Academy walked in.

"Good-morning, my young friends. Glad to see you so early."

His hand was out towards Dick Lee, as he spoke; and they all had what Ford afterwards called "a good square shake of it," by the time they recovered their tongues, and replied to that genial, hearty, encouraging welcome.

Dick couldn't have helped it, if he had tried,—and he somehow forgot to try,—a broad grin of delight spread all over his face, as he looked up in that of the doctor.

The latter himself was smiling a good deal as if he could not help it, but he did not know the exact reason why every one of those boys looked so cheerful just then.

The thought in Ford's mind came within an inch of getting out over his tongue.

"Dwarf? Why, he's more like a giant. How Joe and Fuz Hart did spin it!"

The great man was certainly a good "six feet two," and all his bodily proportions were correspondingly ample.

Frank Harley was the last to be shaken hands with, and so had time to think,—

"Afraid of him? Why, he's too big to be afraid of. We're all right."

That was the whole truth. Dr. Brandegee was too big, in mind as well as body, for any boy of their size to feel at all uneasy after the first half-minute of looking in his calm, broad, thoughtful face. Every member of that quartet began to feel a queer sort of impatience to tell all he knew about books.

The doctor mentioned the fact that he had that morning received letters from their parents and friends, announcing their arrival; but the oddity of it was that he seemed to know, at sight, the right name for each boy, and the right boy for each name.

"He might have guessed at Dick," thought Ford; "but how did he know me?"

Perhaps a quarter of a century spent in receiving, classifying, and managing young gentlemen of all sorts had given the man of learning special faculties for his work.

"I shall have to ask you a few questions, my young friends; but I think there will be little difficulty in assigning you your places and studies. Be seated, please."

That library was plainly a place where no time was to be wasted, for in less than a minute more Ford Foster was suddenly stopped in the middle of a passage of easy Latin,—

"That will do. Give me a free translation."

Ford did so, glibly enough; but there followed no word of comment, favorable or otherwise. Similar brief glimpses were taken of three or four other studies; and then the doctor suddenly remarked to him, in French,—

"Your father has written me very fully concerning your previous studies. You are well prepared, but you have plenty of hard work before you."

Ford fairly strained his best French in the reply he made; and the doctor observed,—

"I see. Constant practice. I wish more parents would be as wise.—Mr. Harley, I had not been informed that you spoke French. You noticed Mr. Foster's mistake. Please correct it for him."

Frank blushed to his eyes, but he obeyed; and he hardly knew how it was, that, before the doctor's rapid questioning was over, his answers had included the whole range of his schooling and acquirements.

"Isn't dey doin' fine!" was the proud thought in the mind of Dick Lee. "But jes' wait till he gits hol' ob Cap'n Dab!"

Dick's confidence in his friend was at least ten times greater than Dabney's in himself. The very air of the room he was in seemed, to the latter, to grow oppressively heavy with learning, and he dreaded his own turn more than ever. While he was waiting for it to come, however, some casual reference to Long Island by the doctor, and a question as to the precise character of its southern coast, rapidly expanded into a wider range of geography, upon the heels of which history trod a little carelessly, and other subjects came tumbling in, until Dabney discovered that he was computing, at the doctor's request, sundry arithmetical results, which might with greater propriety have been reserved for his "examination." That, too, was the way poor Dick Lee came to make so bad a breakdown. His shining face would have told, even to eyes less practised than those of Dr. Brandegee, exactly the answer, as to kind and readiness, which he would have made to every question put to his white friends. That is, unless he had been directly called upon to "answer out aloud." There is no telling what he would have done in such a case as that.

The doctor found out, for he quietly shifted his last question over Dab's left shoulder, and let it fall upon Dick in such a way as not to scare him.

"You's got me, dis time! Dat's de berry place whar we stopped at de end of our school, las' year."

"Then, I think I know about where it's best for you to begin. I'll have another talk with you about it, Richard. You must come up and see me again."

It was not a great deal to say; but the way in which he said it plainly added,—

"I mean to be your friend, my dear boy. I'll do all I can to help you along."

Dick understood it too, but he was feeling dolefully about his tongue just then.

"Missed fire de fust time!" he said to himself; but he carefully replied, aloud,—

"Thank you, sir. Will you tell me when to come?"

"To-night, right away after tea. Now, young gentlemen, I must bid you good-morning. Bear in mind that the first law of Grantley Academy is punctuality. I expect you to be in your places promptly at nine o'clock, Monday morning."

"We will, sir," said Dabney. "But will you please tell us when we are to be examined?"

"I believe, Mr. Kinzer, I have a fair idea of the use you have made of your books up to this time. No further examination will be necessary. I will see you all, with others, after school is opened, next Monday."

They were politely shown out of the library, but they did not clearly comprehend the matter until they had drawn each a good long breath in the open air.

"Dab," said Ford, "can't you see it?"

"I'm beginning to. Seems to me we've been through the sharpest examination I ever heard of. I say, Frank, do you know any thing he didn't make you tell him?"

"Nothing but Hindustanee and a little Teloogoo. Well, yes, I know a Karen hymn. He got all the rest, if I'm not mistaken."

There was no doubt at all but what Dr. Brandegee had gained a correct view of the attainments of his new pupils.



CHAPTER XXVIII.

AN UNUSUAL AMOUNT OF INTRODUCTION.

The front door of Dr. Brandegee's library had hardly closed behind that earliest flock of his autumn birds, before the door by which he had entered swung open, and a fine-looking, middle-aged matron stood in it, remarking,—

"My dear, there are more than a dozen waiting in the parlor. Have you not spent a great deal of time on those four?"

"They're worth it, Mary. There's enough in every one of them to make a man of, and they've all started fairly well."

"I fear that is more than you will be able to say of all these others."

"Of course it will. Their fathers and mothers have had a great deal to do with that."

They were all "examined," however, in due season, some in one way and some in another; and during all that time Dab Kinzer and his friends were inwardly wondering, whether they said so or not, precisely what impression they had made upon the doctor.

It was just as well, every way, that they did not know.

It was a curious fact, that with one accord they accompanied Dick on his return to their boarding-house; and, while he disappeared through the door at the end of the hall with Miss Almira, some invisible leading-string dragged them up stairs. Not that they really had any studying to do; but it was dinner-time before they had finished turning over the leaves of their text-books, and estimating the amount of hard work it would cost to prepare for an "examination" on them.

There was no good reason for complaint of that dinner any more than of their breakfast; and it wound up with a very excellent Indian-meal pudding, concerning which Dabney went so far as to say he would like to send the recipe home to his mother.

"I'm so glad you like it," said Mrs. Myers. "Almira, just remember that. They can have it as often as they please."

She asked them, too, how they proposed to spend their afternoon, and smilingly explained, as to Dick Lee, that,—

"Saturday is one of my busy days, and he will have to stay at home and help. Errands to run, and I want him to learn how. He's a bright, active little fellow."

That was all "according to contract;" but Dick did not come in for his dinner until the rest had eaten theirs; and then he barely had time to say to Dab Kinzer,—

"Did you ebber shell corn?"

"Course I have. Why?"

"'Cause dar's a bigger heap ob corn out in de barn dan you ebber see."

"Bigger'n Ham's?"

"Well, no, not so big as his'n, mebbe; but dar's more ob it. I's got it to shell."

Dab went off with the other two, vaguely beginning to ask himself if shelling corn came fairly into the proper meaning of the word "chores."

All that sort of thing was quickly forgotten, however; for there were a dozen groups of boys scattered here and there over the broad expanse of the "green," and Ford Foster at once exclaimed,—

"Boys, let's examine that crowd. It'll take all the afternoon to find what they know."

Getting acquainted is apt to be a slow process in cases of that sort, unless it is taken hold of with vigor; and Ford was the very fellow to hurry it up. Before the afternoon was over, every boy on that green knew who he was, and where he came from; and a good share of them had tried their hands at "chaffing" him and his friends. Of these latter it may safely be said that not a single one could afterwards remember that he had seemed to himself to get the best of it.

"First day" at school is pretty safe to be a peace-day also; and none of the wordy collisions went too far, although it was plain that the new-comers had not yet attained any high degree of popularity.

After supper Dick Lee set off for Dr. Brandegee's, and his friends attended him nearly to the gate.

They would have been glad to have had a report of his visit from him, on his return; but he had his "chores" to do then, and any amount of careful instruction concerning them to receive from Mrs. Myers and Almira.

The other three were more thoroughly tired out than they had at all expected, and were all quite ready to agree with Frank Harley,—

"We'd better get to bed, boys. I want to see if this is a good house to sleep in."

"Sleep?" said Ford. "I could go to sleep in an omnibus."

Early to bed meant early to rise, necessarily; and they were all up and dressed the next morning, when Dick Lee slipped in on them. Before they had time to ask him a question, he exclaimed,—

"I say, Cap'n Dab, is you goin' to church dis mornin'?"

"Of course. We're all going."

"So I heerd Mrs. Myers tell Miss Almiry. She's goin' to take you along wid her when she goes."

"Richard," said Ford, "are you going?"

"Habn't heerd a word about dat."

"Don't you go back on your friends, Richard. Be all ready in time, sure's you live, and go with us, or I'll complain to Dr. Brandegee."

Dick's grin was a wide one; but he responded,—

"I'll be ready. See 'f I ain't."

The voice of Almira, calling his name at the foot of the stairs, prevented any further conversation just then; and Dick found, afterwards, that he had undertaken a task of some difficulty. He hardly knew when or where he squeezed out the time for the proper polishing of his shoes, or the due arrangement of his magnificent red necktie; but both feats were accomplished most faithfully.

The subject of church-going came up again, incidentally, at the breakfast-table; and the remarks of her young boarders met the emphatic approval of Mrs. Myers and her daughter. Perhaps because neither of them had been near enough, after Dick dodged out of their room at the end of his early call, to hear Dabney Kinzer remark,—

"Ford, don't you think we can find our way across the green without any help from the ladies?"

"I am pondering that matter. What do you say, Frank?"

"We must get out of it if we can politely. I don't just see how we'll do it."

"Do it? Why, we'll all wait for Dick Lee."

Mrs. Myers took a little too much for granted; and when the hour came for starting, there came a slight disturbance in the smooth current of her calculations.

"Mr. Foster," she called out, in her best voice, from half way up the stairs, "the first bell is ringing. Are you and your friends ready?"

"Ringing?" responded Ford. "So it is! I regret to say we are not yet ready to go."

At the same moment Dab was whispering,—

"We mustn't start until it's nearly done tolling."

"What's that?" asked Frank.

"Don't you know? It's always so in the country. First they ring the bell, as it's ringing now. That's to set people a-going. Then they toll it. You'll hear in a few minutes. That means, the time's up."

Ford Foster's city training had not taught him as much as that, but he was glad to know it.

Mrs. Myers once more urged upon them the necessity of making haste.

"It won't do to be late," she said. "I never allow myself to be a minute behind time."

The last clause sounded a very, very little impatient; but Ford once more politely expressed his sorrow, and abstained from putting on his coat. At that moment, too, Dick Lee came tiptoeing in from his cheerless garret, and looking astonishingly spruce. The "shine" on his shoes was a brilliancy to be remembered; and so was the shine on his face, and the sunset glow of his necktie.

"Sh! Dick," said Dab. "Hold still a minute. The bell's beginning to toll."

"I fear Almira and I will be compelled to start," said Mrs. Myers regretfully. "Perhaps you can overtake us if you hurry."

"Perhaps we could," replied Ford, "but I beg you will not let yourself be late on our account. We're coming."

He began to put his coat on as she and Almira went through the gate. In such a village as that, no one was afraid to leave a house alone for an hour or two. Not only was the door-lock "on the latch" as usual, but Dick Lee had been vaguely expected to stay at home. There, again, Mrs. Myers had taken too much for granted; and she had not said a word to him about it.

Just as she heard the bell give its last few rapid and warning strokes, and disappeared through the church-door, she might have seen, had she turned back and looked once more towards her own front gate, four well-dressed youngsters hurrying from it across the street as if a great deal depended on their reaching church before service could begin.

"It's very kind of Mrs. Myers to invite us," remarked Ford, "but she never thought how bashful we'd be about it."

They were quickly within the ample porch of the roomy and not at all overcrowded edifice, and were greeted by two or three benevolent-looking elderly gentlemen, with a degree of prompt cordiality which left little to be asked for.

The deacons were awake to their duty relating to new scholars,—"students" they called them; and every attention was paid these four who had begun so well their first Sunday.

So it would be at every church on that green; and it would really be about the middle of the term before stray "academy boys" would be left to find their own way to well-whittled benches in the galleries.

One of the best pews in the house, well forward in the middle aisle, and they had it all to themselves. There was not another pew in church that morning which seemed to attract so large a share of the attention of the congregation. Mrs. Myers and Almira were several pews behind, and on the other side of the house; and there had been no opportunity to capture her four boarders, or any of them, while they were marching in.

"Almira! If they haven't brought Dick with them."

"Yes, mother; but how very well they look! Mr. Kinzer is really quite handsome."

That was hardly Dab's opinion of himself, and nobody had ever taken pains to tell him so; but the four of them, standing up together, and all singing, made quite a picture. Dick Lee was between Dab Kinzer and Frank Harley, and seemed to feel in honor bound to sing his best. That was very well too.

If Glorianna could but have had a look at her boy that morning, there is no such thing as telling how proud she would have felt about him. It was too bad she could not have done so, especially as Dick was most loyally thinking of her, and wishing that she could.

There was no fault to be found by Mrs. Myers, or anybody else, with the strict decorum of her boarders, and their profound attention to the service and sermon; but she felt that she had a duty to perform, and she only waited the proper time for its performance.

The last hymn had been duly sung, and the boys were drifting along with the tide in the aisle towards the door, when Dabney nudged Ford with his elbow.

"We're nabbed, Ford."

"No escape this time, that's a fact. Don't let's try. She means it all for politeness."

They would have been quite willing to have been allowed to get out and go home unnoticed; but there in the porch awaiting them were Mrs. Myers and Almira, and there was no possibility of an escape. It would have been unkind to try in the face of so much smiling. Besides, they did board with her; and she had her rights of property, one of which was to show them off, and introduce them. She proceeded to exercise it at once; and it was to the credit of the three white boys that they came promptly to her assistance, and added any little matter she might happen to miss in the hurry of the moment.

"Deacon Short, this is Mr. Dabney Kinzer, of Long Island; this is Mr. Frank Harley, of Rangoon, son of Rev. Dr. Harley, our well-known missionary; this is Mr. Ford Foster, son of the eminent New-York lawyer."

"Delighted"—began the deacon, rapidly grasping and shaking hand after hand, with a peculiar lift of his elbow, that placed most of what might be called the "action" at the point of it; but Ford was thinking of the thing Mrs. Myers had omitted, and he promptly added,—

"Glad to meet you, Deacon Short; and this is my friend Mr. Richard Lee, of Long Island."

To do the good deacon justice, his grasp of Dick's hand was every bit as cordial as any other of his grasps; and he beamed on the smiling black boy in a way that gave him back, after the manner of a reflection, a great glow of the best and broadest "beaming."

Mrs. Myers did not stop a moment in the repetition of her formula, and there was sharp work before her; but Dab's tongue was also loose now, and Elder Potter had hardly time to hear who he was before Deacon Short had to let go of Dick, and hear Dab say,—

"How d'ye do, Elder Potter? and this is my near neighbor and friend, Mr. Richard Lee."

"Mrs. Sunderland," began Mrs. Myers, to a lady whose face and dress declared her a social magnate, "my new boarder, Mr. Frank Harley:" and the rest of her introduction speech followed; and stately Mrs. Sunderland had just time to utter a few words of gracious inquiry about the "precious health" of Frank's father and mother, when he, too, took up the "omission," and Dick Lee's introduction stepped into the place of any other answer for a moment.

It was a good thing for Dick, as Mrs. Sunderland was a member of a society for promoting emigration to Liberia, and was seized at once with a dim idea that a part of her "mission" was standing before her in very brilliant shoes and a new red necktie. She did not know how utterly she and the other good people and those three boys were demolishing a curious vision of Almira's and her mother's, of some social advantage they might derive, thenceforward, from having "a colored servant" in their employ. Dick's own chance was coming right down upon him, a little before he was quite ready for it; for the minister and his wife came out a few moments later, and Mrs. Sunderland took upon herself the duty of presenting Richard Lee to them, very much if as she would have said,—

"My dear Mr. Fallow,—my dear Mrs. Fallow,—see what I've found! Is he not remarkable?"

The words she really uttered were somewhat more formal; but the good, quiet-looking little minister and very quiet-looking little wife were still shaking hands with Dick, that is, with his right hand, when he turned almost eagerly, and caught hold of Dab Kinzer with his left.

"Yes, sir, an' dis is Cap'n Dab—I mean, this is my friend Mr. Dabney Kinzer, of Long Island,—de bes'—"

"How do you do, Mr. Kinzer? Glad to make your acquaintance," said Mr. Fallow; and Dick's success was complete, except that he was saying to himself,—

"I jes' can't trus' my tongue wid de oder boys. Dey's got to take dar chances."

"Now, Mr. Kinzer," said Miss Almira, at that moment, "it's time we were going home."

"Yes, Frank," said her mother patronizingly, "I think we had better be going."

If such an exercise as "introduction" could earn it, they were both entitled to good appetites; and, after all, it had been quite a nice little affair.

Dabney was quite as tall as Miss Almira; but as they walked across the green, side by side, he could not avoid a side-glance that gave him a very clear idea of the difference between his present company and Annie Foster. It was at that very moment that it occurred to Frank that he had last walked home from church under the protecting wing of the portly and matronly Mrs. Kinzer; and he could but draw some kind of a comparison between her and Mrs. Myers.

"They're both widows," he thought; "but there isn't any other resemblance."

Ford and Dick brought up the rear; and for some reason, or there may have been more than one, they were both in capital good spirits.

"Tell you wot," exclaimed Dick: "if goin' to de 'cad'my is all like dis yer—I am very glad indeed that I ever came."

"Oh! you're all right," said Ford; "but there's more good people in this village than I'd any idea of. I'm glad we came to church."

"Dick," said Mrs. Myers a little sharply, when they reached the gate, "I want some wood and a pail of water. You'd better hurry up stairs, and put on your every-day clothes."



CHAPTER XXIX.

LETTERS HOME FROM THE BOYS.—DICK LEE'S FIRST GRIEF.

There was a large number of new scholars assembled in the "great room" of Grantley Academy on the first Monday morning of that "fall term." There were also many who had been there before, but the new-comers were in the majority. There were boys from the village, boys from the surrounding country, and boys from even farther away than the southern shore of Long Island; and they were of many kinds and ages. The youngest may have been "under twelve," and entitled to ride in a street-car at half-price; and several of the very older ones had already cast their first vote as grown-up men.

Counting them all, and adding those who were to make their appearance during the week, they made a little army of nearly two hundred. There was also a young ladies' department, with about a hundred pupils; and there was quite as great a variety among them as among their young gentlemen fellow-students.

The class-rooms assigned to the lady teachers and their several grades of learners were all on the northern side of the academy building. There was a large wing there that belonged to them, and they only met the boys face to face in the "great room" during morning exercises. Even those of them who lived or boarded in the southern half of the village found their way across the green, coming and going, under the shade of the most northerly row of trees.

As to the "great room" itself, there had been much trouble about the name of it. Dr. Brandegee called it "the lecture-room," and he did a great deal towards making it so. There were those who tried to say "chapel" when they spoke of it; but so many others refused to know what place they were speaking of, that they had to give it up. "Hall" would not fit, because it was square; and the boys generally rejected the doctor's name because of unpleasant-ideas connected with the word "lecture." So it came to be "the great room," and no more; and a great thing it was for Dick Lee to find himself sitting on one of the front seats of it, with his friends all in line at his right, waiting their turn with him to be "classified," and sent about their business.

Dr. Brandegee made wonderfully rapid work of it; and his several assistants seemed to know exactly what to do.

"The fact is," said Ford, the first chance he had to speak to Dab, "I've been studying that man. He's taught school before."

"Guess he knows how, too. And I ain't afraid about Dick Lee, now I've seen the rest. He can go right ahead of some of them."

"They'll bounce him if he does. Tell you what, Dab, if you and I want to be popular here, we'd better wear our old clothes every day but Sunday."

"And miss about half the questions that come to us. Dick won't be sharp enough for that."

"He says he's going to write a letter home tonight. Made him turn pale too."

Those first letters home!

Ford's was a matter of course, and Frank Harley had had some practice already; but Dab Kinzer had never tried such a thing before, and Dick Lee would not come to anybody else for instructions. Neither would he permit anybody, not even "Captain Dab," to see his letter after it was written.

"I's been mighty partikler 'bout de pronounciation," he said to himself, "specially in wot I wrote to Mr. Morris, but I'd like to see dem all read dem letters. Guess dar'll be a high time at our house."

It would be a long while before Frank Harley's epistle would reach the eyes that were anxiously waiting for it, but there were indeed "high times" in those three houses on the Long-Island shore.

Old Bill Lee was obliged to trust largely to the greater learning of his wife, but he chuckled over every word he managed to pick out, as if he had pulled in a twenty-pound bluefish; and the signature at the bottom affected him somewhat as if he had captured a small whale.

"Sho! De boy!" said Glorianna. "He's doin' fust-rate. Dar ain't anoder young gen'lman at dat ar' 'cad'my jes' like him. Onless it's young Mr. Kinzer. I hasn't a word to say 'gin him or Mr. Foster, or dat ar' young mish'nayry."

"Glorianna," said Bill doubtfully, "do you s'pose Dick did all dat writin' his own self?"

"Sho! Course he did! Don't I know his hand-writin'? Ain't he my own blessed boy? Guess he did, and I's goin' ober to show it to Mrs. Kinzer. It'll do her good to hear from de 'cad'my."

So it did; for Dick's letter to his mother, like the shorter one he sent to Ham Morris, was largely made up of complimentary remarks concerning Dabney Kinzer.

When Glorianna knocked at the kitchen door of the Morris mansion, however, it was opened by "the help;" and she might have lost her errand if Mrs. Kinzer had not happened to hear her voice. It is just possible it was pitched somewhat higher than usual that morning.

"Glorianna? Is that you? Come right in. We've some letters from the boys. Something in them about Dick that you'll be glad to hear."

"Sho! De boy! Course dey all had to say somet'ing 'bout him! I's jes' like to know wot 'tis, dough."

In she went, but more than the Kinzer family were gathered in the sitting-room.

Mrs. Foster and Annie had brought Jenny Walters with them, and Ham was there, and all the rest; and they all sat still as mice while Glorianna listened to Dab's account, and Ford's, of the journey to Grantley, and the arrival, and the examination, and their boarding-house.

There was not a word of complaint anywhere; and it did seem as if Ham Morris was right when he said,—

"We've hit it this time, Mrs. Foster. I think I ought to write to Mr. Hart, and thank him for his recommendation."

"Just as you please, Hamilton," said Mrs. Kinzer; "but this is their very first week, you know."

"Guess dey won't fool Dick much, anyhow," said the radiant Glorianna. "But wot's dat 'bout de corn-shellin'?"

"That's all right," said Ham. "Shelling corn won't hurt him. Glad there's plenty of it. Mother Kinzer, you and Miranda must try that recipe Dab sent for the new pudding."

"New pudding, indeed! Why, she doesn't put in half eggs enough. But I'm glad she's a good cook. We'll have that pudding for dinner this very day."

"So will we," said Mrs. Foster.

"Miss Kinzer," said Dick's mother, "jes' won't you show me how to make dat puddin'? I's like to know jes' wot dey eat at de 'cad'my."

It was a great comfort to know that the boys were so well satisfied; but there was her usual good sense in Mrs. Kinzer's suggestion about its being the very first week.

There are never any more such letters as "first letters," nor any other weeks like the first. The fact that there were so many boys together, all old acquaintances, shut out any such thing as loneliness, and it was not time to be homesick. All that week was really spent in "getting settled," and there did not seem to be more than a day or so of it. Saturday came around again somewhere in the place commonly taken by Wednesday, and surprised them all.

They had all been busy enough, but Dick Lee had never in all his life found so little spare time on his hands.

"It's no use, Cap'n Dab," he remarked on Friday: "we can't eat up all de corn I've shelled, not if we has johnnycake from now till nex' summer."

Dab was looking a little thoughtful at that moment.

"Ford," he said slowly, "has she missed a day yet?"

"A corn day? No."

"Or a meal?"

"No, I said I'd cut a notch on my slate first time she did, and it's all smooth yet."

He held it up as he spoke; and Frank remarked,—

"Yes, smooth enough on that side; but you've nicked it all down on the other, end to end. What's that for?"

"That? Oh! that's quite another thing. I'm keeping tally of Joe and Fuz. Every time one of 'em asks a question about our boarding-house, or Mrs. Myers, or Almira, or' little Dr. Brandegee, I nick it down. Got to quit pretty soon, or buy another slate."

"They've kind o' kept away from us," said Dab. "They're in only one of my classes, but they're in three of yours."

"Ain't in any ob mine," said Dick; "but Dr. Brandegee says he'll promote me soon."

Dick's tongue always began to work better, the moment he mentioned the academy-principal.

"I don't mind their keeping away from us," said Frank.

"Nor I," said Ford.

At that moment they reached their own gate, and Dick darted forward in response to an imaginary call from Mrs. Myers.

Ford went on,—

"They can keep away all they please, but they won't do it long. They're bound on mischief of some kind."

"To us?" asked Frank.

"Well, yes; but it'll light on Richard Lee first. He won't say a word to us about it, but they've bothered him."

"I'll ask him," said Dab, in whose face a flush was rising. "They must let Dick alone."

"They won't, then. And there's plenty of others just like 'em. They're getting together in a kind of a flock these last two or three days. Some of 'em are pretty big ones."

"Boys," exclaimed Frank, "how about our boxing lessons?"

"Guess we haven't forgotten 'em all in one week," said Ford. "I was thinking about to-morrow."

So were they all; and they held a council-of-war about it, in their own room, before supper. The result was, that, by a unanimous vote, that Saturday was to be devoted to the catching of fish, rather than to playing ball, or any thing else that would bring them into immediate contact with Joe and Fuz.

They had all brought their fishing-tackle with them, as a matter of course; plenty of worms for bait were to be dug in the garden; and Dab Kinzer had learned, by careful inquiry, that both bait and tackle could be used to good purpose in the waters of "Green Pond," and sundry other small bits of lakes, miles and miles away among the hills to the north of Grantley.

"We'll have a grand time," he said, "and it'll do us all good. No crabs, though. Wonder if those fresh-water fish bite like ours down in the bay."

"Some do, and some don't," said Ford. "I've caught 'em."

It did not occur to him now, however, that he could probably teach Dab; and they all obeyed the supper-bell.

There were three kinds of corn-cake on the table, but the boys were thinking of something more important; and Dab hardly received his first cup of tea before he remarked,—

"We're all going a-fishing to-morrow, Mrs. Myers; but we may get home in time for supper. Can you spare Dick?"

"What, on Saturday? The very day I need him most? Three loads of wood'll be over from the farm to-night."

Dick had been in the kitchen, and had advanced as far as the door while Dab was speaking.

"Wood?" he muttered to himself. "Guess I know wot dat means. T'ree load ob wood, an' no fishin'! It's jes' awful!"

"Now, Mrs. Myers," said Ford, "if you knew what a fisherman Dick is! He might bring you home a load of them."

"I am sorry," said Mrs. Myers, with more of firmness and less of smile than they had ever seen on her face before. "I have no objection to the rest of you going. You may do as you please about that, but I must keep Richard at his work."

"I am particularly well pleased to learn that you have no objection to our going," remarked Ford, with extreme politeness, and Dabney added,—

"It does me good too. We'll take Dick with us some other time. Mrs. Myers, if you will have breakfast pretty early I'll be much obliged to you."

Even Almira had never seen Dabney look quite so tall as he did at that moment.



CHAPTER XXX.

DABNEY KINZER TRIES FRESH-WATER FISHING FOR THE FIRST TIME.

Conversation did not flourish at the supper-table that Friday evening. There was a puzzled look on the faces of Mrs. Myers and her daughter, and their three boarders seemed to be running a kind of race with each other as to which of them should make out to be the most carefully polite. As for poor Dick Lee, out there in the kitchen, the nearest he came to breaking the silence was in a sort of smothered groan, and a half-uttered determination to "git up good and early, an' dig dem fellers de bes' worms dey is in de gardin."

There was talk enough in the room up stairs in the course of the evening; but the door was closed, and there was no chance for any one in the passage outside, no matter how silently he or she might go by, to hear a distinct word of it.

"You see, boys," said Ford Foster, at the end of some extended remarks, "I'm not at all mean or exacting. My father only pays Mrs. Myers three dollars a week, and all she agreed to give was board. I can't expect her to be any kind of an aunt, too, and let me go a-fishing. I'll take it all off her hands, and let myself go."

"It's hard on Dick, though," said Dab, "and she's kind o' got the right of it."

"I s'pose she has. But if he isn't earning all he gets, I'm mistaken. Boys, if she puts any more work on him, what'll we do?"

"Eat," said Dab: "that's the only way we can make it up."

"We can't do it, Dab. Not unless the price of corn-meal goes up. Think of eating another three dollars' worth of hasty-pudding every week!"

Their landlady came out in all her smiles at breakfast, and hoped they would have good success with their fishing.

"Only," she added, "I'm not very fond of fish, and I never take the trouble to clean them."

"We will try and catch ours ready cleaned, Mrs. Myers," said Ford. "Now, boys, if you're ready, I am."

They were ready, bait and all, thanks to Dick; and the breakfast had been an early one. Dab thanked Mrs. Myers for that, even while he wished he had Ford Foster's tongue to do it with.

In fact, he had been noticing of late that his ideas came to him a little slowly. Not but what he had plenty of them, but they seemed disposed to crowd one another; so that whenever there was any thing to be said in a hurry, Ford was sure to get ahead of him, and sometimes even quiet Frank Harley.

"Must be I'm growing, somehow," he said to himself, "or I wouldn't be so awkward."

The north road from Grantley led through a region that was, as the old farmers said of it, "a-goin' back," and was less thickly peopled than it had been two or three generations before. There had once been pretty well cultivated farms all around some of the little lakes that were now bordered by stout growths of forest; and the roads among the hills wore a neglected look, many of them, as if it had ceased to profit anybody to keep them in order.

There was "coming and going" over them, nevertheless; and the boys managed to get a "lift" of nearly five miles in a farmer's wagon, so that they reached the vicinity of Green Pond sooner than they had expected, and with much less fatigue. The same farmer, in response to anxious questioning by Dab, informed him,—

"Fish? Wall, ye-es. Nobody don't ketch 'em much nowadays. Time was when they was pretty much all fished out, but I heerd there was some fellers turned in a heap of seedlin' fish three or four year ago. Right away arter that, my boys went over, and put in three days a hand runnin', but they didn't get nothin' but pumpkin-seeds. Plenty of them yit, I s'pose."

That was encouraging; but Ford at once remarked,—

"Pumpkin-seeds? A fine-looking fish, are they not? I know them. Somewhat depressed, and extended laterally?"

"Guesso. You're 'tendin' school at the 'cadummy, ain't ye?"

"Yes, we're there."

"Thought so. Ye-es. We-ell, it's a good thing for the 'cadummy. Hope you'll ketch some o' them seedlin' fish. Ef ye do, you kin jest stuff 'em with big words, and bake 'em. They do say as how fish is good for the brains."

"Don't we turn off somewhere along here?" asked Dabney.

"Ye-es. Green Pond's right down there, through the woods. Not more'n a mile. See't ye don't lose yer way. What bait have ye got?"

"Bait? Angle-worms. Are they the right thing?"

"Worms? Ye-es. They'll do. Somebody told ye, did they? 'Twon't take ye long to larn how to put 'em on."

There was not a great deal to be made out of that old New-England farmer; and his good-natured contempt for a lot of ignorant young "city fellers," in good clothes, did not require any further expression.

They left him with a wide grin on his wrinkled face, and followed his directions over the nearest fence; but with ideas concerning their probable string of fish, that were rather "depressed" than "extended."

It was a long mile, but it did not contain any danger of getting lost; and at the end of it they had quite enough of a surprise to pay them for their trouble.

"Why, Ford, it's a beauty!"

"Dab, do you s'pose as nice a pond as that hasn't any thing in it but pumpkin-seeds?"

"No boat that I can see," remarked Frank.

"We'll fish from the shore," said Dab. "There's a log that runs away out in. Rocks too."

Rocks and trees and natural ruggedness all around, and some ten or a dozen acres of clear, cold, beautiful water, with little brooks and springs running into it, and a brook running out on the opposite shore that would have to grow considerably before it would be fit for mill-turning.

"Boys," said Dabney, "we've missed it!"

"How's that?" asked Ford.

"Put on the smallest hooks you've got, right away, and try for minnows. There must be pickerel and bass here."

"Bass? Of course! Didn't he say something about seed-fish? That's what they put in; and they weren't as big as pins when his boys came for 'em."

"Minnow-poles," as they called them, could be cut from the bushes at the margin, and little fish could be taken at the same time that they were trying for large ones. They found too, before long, that sometimes a very respectable perch or bass would stoop to nibble at one of the "elegant worms" with which Dick Lee had provided them.

"No turn of the tide to wait for here, Dab," said Ford, "and no crabs to steal your bait off. Hey! There comes one. Perch! First game for my hook."

"We'll stay till dark, but we'll get a good string. Frank, your cork's under."

"Never fished with one before," said Frank. "I'll soon get the hang of it."

That was a capital school for it, at all events; and they learned that it might be a good thing for a little lake like that to have a bad reputation.

"Fished out years ago. I understand now," said Dab.

"Understand what?"

"Why, those fellows in the village that sent me out here were playing a joke on us,—a good deal like one of Joe and Fuz Hart's."

"Best kind of a joke. But if we tell about it when we get home, the whole village'll be over here next week."

"Then we won't tell. Hurrah! I'll get him in. Steady, now. If he isn't a two-pounder! see him run? Boys, this is going to be fun."

They did not neglect their minnow-catching; and before a great while they were varying their bait, very much to their advantage. How they did wish for a boat, so they could try the deeper water! They worked their way along, from point to point, looking for the best spot, if such there were; and Dabney at last found himself quite a distance ahead of his companions.

"Boys! Ford! Frank! A boat! Come on!"

Lying behind the trunk of a tree that had fallen into the water,—not much of a boat, to be sure, and without any oars or even rowlocks; but when the water was tipped out of it, and it was shoved in again, it actually floated.

"Careful, Ford," said Dab. "Remember Dick Lee. The old thing may come to pieces. It wasn't made yesterday."

"Look's as if Christopher Columbus owned it, and forgot just where he left it. We can paddle with pieces of bark, as far out as we need go."

Now the fun was doubled; and some of the pickerel they pulled in reminded Dabney of small blue-fish, while the bass and perch were every way as respectable as ordinary porgies and black-fish, except for size. He had even to confess that the sea itself contained a great many small fish, and that he had often had much poorer luck in his own beloved bay.

The boat was a great acquisition; but when they were paddling ashore for the fourth time, "to turn her over and let the water out," Dabney remarked,—

"It's after dinner-time, boys. Could either of you fellows eat any thing?"

"Eat?" said Frank. "I'd forgotten that. Yes, let's have lunch. But there's more cold johnny-cake than any thing else in the basket."

"There's plenty of salt and pepper though; and it won't take any time at all to make a fire, and broil some fish. Didn't you ever go on a chowder-party, and do your own cooking?"

"No, I never did."

"Nor I," said Ford very reluctantly. "Can we do it?"

"Do it? I'll show you. No kettle. We'll have to broil. You fellows make a fire, while I clean some of these fish."

It was every bit as good fun as catching those fish, to cook them there on the shore of that lovely little lake. Dabney did know all about it, as became a "'longshore boy;" and he took a particular pride in showing Ford and Frank how many different ways there were of cooking a fish without an oven or a kettle or a gridiron.

It was another fine point to discover, after they had eaten all they could, including the cold johnny-cake, that they did not seem to have made their strings of fish look perceptibly smaller.

"Tell you what, boys," said Dabney: "next time we come out we'll bring a hammer and nails, and some oakum, and I'll calk up that old punt so she'll float well enough. Only it won't do to dance in her."

"Then," said Ford, "I move we don't try her again to-day. If we've got to carry all these fish, it'll be a long pull home. We're not half sure of catching another ride."

"We can pole our fish, though, and make it easy carrying."

"How's that?"

"I'll show you. Cut two poles, hang your strings half way, shoulder the poles, and take turns carrying. One boy getting rested, all the while, and no cords cutting your hands."

That was as sensible as if his own mother had told him; and it was a good thing he thought of it, for they did not "catch a ride" till they were half way home. All the wagons were coming the other way, of course, on Saturday afternoon; but the one chat then caught up with them had been carrying a new stove home, and was returning empty.

"Fine strings of fish," remarked the stove-man as they clambered in. "Where'd you catch 'em?"

"Over in one of the lakes."

"Did ye though? You don't say! Guess I know the place. You must have had an all-killin' walk, though. I declare! I'm goin' to try that pond first day I get away."

"Want some of these?"

"Wouldn't rob ye,—but you've got a-plenty—that pickerel? Thank ye, now. Oh!—and the bass tew? You're good fellers."

He seemed to be another; and Dab warned him at parting, that, "when he wanted to get a string of fish, if he'd come to him he'd tell him just where to go."

"All right. Glad I had the luck to ketch up with ye."

"Dab," said Ford as they reached the outskirts of Grantley, "I know it's late; but we must walk through the village with these fish, if it's only to have the whole town ask us where we caught them."

"That's so. I'm rested now too. Let's get right out."

They were nearly at the southerly end of the village, and there was quite a walk before them.

"Dab," said Frank, "we've more fish than we'll need at our house, if we have 'em for breakfast and dinner both."

"I've been thinking of that. Let's vote on it now. What do you say? One string for the minister?"

"Yes," said Ford, "a bass for Mr. Fallow, a small pickerel for Mrs. Fallow, and a perch or a pumpkin-seed for each of the six little Fallows."

"All right; and that big pickerel I caught, for Dr. Brandegee, and the biggest bass in the lot to keep it company. Let's make him up a prime good mess."

"One that'll stand an examination," said Ford.



CHAPTER XXXI.

FIGHT, AND WHAT CAME OF IT.

Dick Lee was an unwise boy that afternoon.

He knew how to turn his hand to a great many things, thanks to his home-training; and a woodpile was one of the matters he had learned how to deal with, but he had not taken hold of that of Mrs. Myers with any heart for his work.

It was simply impossible for him to imagine that he was pulling in fish, or having any other kind of fun, while he was sawing wood, or even while splitting it.

There was, however, something almost vicious in the way he came down with his axe upon some of the more obstinate pieces.

"He will be a very useful boy," remarked Mrs. Myers, as she watched him from the window; "but I fear I shall have some difficulty with the others. They are very much inclined to be uppish."

Dick toiled faithfully; and he felt it as a kind of relief, late in the day, to be sent to the grocery-store, at the lower end of the village, with a basket that was to bring home the usual Saturday assortment for Mrs. Myers.

He did well enough in going; but on his way home, if the truth must be told, Dick Lee loitered dreadfully. It was so nice a day, and he had been so long at his woodpile, and he had had so little time to call his own that week.

Over on the green, the boys of the village were playing a sort of "match-game" of base-ball, with a picked nine from the academy; and there seemed no reason why Dick and his basket should not stroll along inside the barrier-fence of the green, and see them play it.

That was where his unwisdom showed itself; for among the boys who were not playing were Joe and Fuz Hart and all their "crowd," and this was the first time they had seen Dick on the green "all alone."

That would have been quite enough of itself, considering how black he was, and that he was a "new boy" at the academy; but the additional fact that he had his basket on his arm opened the way to trouble for him all the sooner.

He was standing still, on the walk near the fence, gazing at the batting and catching with so deep an interest that his mouth would stay open, when he suddenly found himself "surrounded."

"Hullo, Dick, what you got in your basket?"

"Groceries! Groceries! Fresh from Afriky."

"Let's see 'em."

"Jes' you keep off, now."

"Give us that basket."

"Don't you tech a thing!"

"What you got, Midnight?"

"None ob youah business. I's 'tendin' to mine. Put dat back, now, will you?"

Dick had promptly retreated against the fence, in his surprise and vexation, and was defending himself and his cargo vigorously, but he was sadly outnumbered.

They were a cowardly lot: for their all but helpless victim had even received several sharp blows, in return for his grasps and pushes; and the matter threatened to end unpleasantly for him, when suddenly Joe Hart felt his feet jerked from under him. Down he went, and over went Fuz on top of him; and then there were four or five boys all in a heap, with Dick's basket upset just beyond them, and Dick himself diving hither and thither after its late contents, and exclaiming,—

"Cap'n Dab's come! I's all right now. Jes' let me pick up some ob dese t'ings."

There was a resentful ring in the last remark, as if he were thinking of something like war after the recovery of his groceries; but it was indeed the voice of Dab Kinzer, shouting full and clear,—

"Pick 'em up, Dick! we're just in time."

A boy somewhat larger than the rest, a good half-head taller than Dabney, but with a somewhat pasty and unhealthy complexion, had selected Ford Foster, as the shortest of the new arrivals, and demanded,—

"What are you meddling for?" just as he aimed a clumsy blow at his head. That blow did not hit Ford; but a shorter young ruffian had also picked him out, perhaps for the same reason, and the hit he aimed reached its mark, for Ford had no extra pair of arms behind to box with. Frank Harley seemed, just then, to be remarkably busy with the heap of boys on the ground.

"Spat!"—that was the way something sounded; and Dab Kinzer added,—

"Go for that fellow on the grass, Ford: I'll take care of the long one."

"You will,—will you?"

Spat—spat—spat!

"Oh! I see: you don't know how to box; weak in the arms too. Better go home."

The tall boy was stepping backwards quite rapidly, with one hand on his nose, and the other swinging wildly in the air above him; and Ford was keeping the "fellow on the grass" from getting up, when all the noise around them suddenly ceased.

"Dr. Brandegee!"

"Where? Where?"

"Coming across the green, at the upper end."

"He's coming this way."

Several of the late assailants started on a run at once; but Dab Kinzer had caught a sharp whisper from Frank Harley, and he shouted,—

"No you won't, Joe Hart! Hold on, Fuz! That other chap must stay too. Give Dick back his groceries."

"Dey's hooked a pile ob 'em," said Dick, his eyes dancing with triumph. "Jes' make 'em hand ober."

"Do you mean to say we've been stealing?" fiercely demanded Joe.

"What, me? me, steal?" almost gasped Fuz.

"They wouldn't do such a thing as that," said Ford, not quite comprehending the situation.

"That's it," said Dab: "let 'em empty their pockets"—

Joe was indignantly turning inside out the side pockets of his neat "cut-away," and a small, brown-paper-covered parcel dropped upon the ground.

"Dem's de cloves," shouted Dick, as he darted forward, and picked it up.

The fingers of Fuz almost unconsciously imitated those of his elder brother, and with a like result.

"Dat's de cinnamon. If de oder feller didn't git de tea an' de sal'ratus! Whar's de nutmegs?"

These, too, were forthcoming, as well as a paper of "indigo blue" for the next Monday's washing, and other items which testified strongly as to "how much at a time" Mrs. Myers was in the habit of buying.

It was all over in less than half a minute, but Dick's assailants looked very much as if they wanted to sink right down through the grass.

"Go home, Joseph," said Ford; "go home, Foster. I'll write to your father that you're out of these things at your boarding-house. We buy all our groceries, where we live."

"I never touched a thing," roared Joe. "Somebody put 'em in my pockets."

"Don't say any thing more, Joseph," said Ford calmly. "If you don't get enough to eat, come over to our house: we won't let you starve. Give you all the bluing you want too."

They did not seem to need any just then; and there was such a crowd of boys gathering that they were glad to take Ford's advice, and hurry away. Even then a good deal more attention might have been paid them, all around, but for the excitement created in the mind of every boy who looked at the great strings of fish Dab and his friends had dropped when they went in to the rescue of Dick Lee.

Questions as to where they were caught, and how, poured upon the young fishermen so fast that it was not easy to dodge them all at once, or prevent a general stampede of the academy boys to Green Pond.

"They'd use up the boat in one day, and all the fish in the next," said Dab to Frank; "but where'd you learn to do what you did for Fuz and Joe?"

"Sleight-of-hand? Oh! one of father's Hindu converts had been a juggler. He taught me. They're the best in the world, but father doesn't like me to do much of it. We can have some fun with it yet, though. It came to me like a flash when I saw those things on the ground."

"Served 'em right. Spoiling 'em on the ground was next thing to stealing."

"Come on, boys," said Ford. "It's after five o'clock."

They were all glad to escape from the crowd, especially Dick Lee; and it was not until they were across the street that the tall form of Dr. Brandegee came slowly down past the ball-players. He seemed particularly interested in that game. It was currently reported, indeed, that he had been a first-class athlete in his younger days, and that he took a quiet half-hour in the morning with his dumb-bells now, before doing any thing at all with his Greek and Latin.

The "short-stop" was a well-built, sunburned student of at least twenty; and the doctor noticed how neatly he had been doing his work.

"Wish I could catch an equation as well as I can a ball," said the young fellow, coloring a little, perhaps at the memory of something in mathematics which had "got by him."

"You will, I think. By the way, didn't I see what looked like a disturbance down here among the boys, just now?"

"Disturbance? Well, yes, I should say there was. Came near interrupting the game."

"Any thing serious?"

"Well, it might have been. Some of the boys made a set on that little colored chap. Mean thing to do. I'd ha' stopped it myself; but that Kinzer boy, and the other two that board with Mrs. Myers, they cleared it all up in no time."

"No fighting, I hope?"

"Well, no; but I tell you what, doctor, the rest of the boys'll let that nigger alone. His friends can box."

"Ah, yes! I understand. They stood by him. Wouldn't see him imposed upon."

"They just wouldn't. They're prime little chaps. The other boys were bigger'n they are. I'd ha' helped 'em, but they didn't need any help."

"No. Yes,—I see. It won't do to have any fighting, but then! H'm! They stood right by him! Good-afternoon, Mr. Pulsifer."

"Good-afternoon, Dr. Brandegee. There, if he hasn't made me lose a hit! I'd ha' fetched it. But I'm glad I had a chance to set him right about that scrimmage. I thought those three chaps were kind o' stuck up, but everybody'll know where to place 'em now."

There was nothing like anger, or even disapproval, on Dr. Brandegee's face when he walked away; but he was muttering,—

"Know how to box, do they? I thought I saw something like it. They're a fine lot of young fellows. I must keep my eye on them. They'll be MEN one of these days!"

They were only boys yet, however; and they were hardly arrived in front of the kitchen-door before they began to make the proposed division of the fish.

Mrs. Myers came to meet Dick, and receive an account of his errand.

"You've been gone twice as long—I declare, Almira, come here and see these fish. You have had wonderful luck, I must say. More'n we'll know what to do with."

"I will attend to the cleaning of them," began Dabney; but Dick interrupted him with,—

"Guess not, Cap'n Dab. I's cleaned loads ob fish. Won't be no time at all puttin' t'rough jes' a string or two."

"Dick will clean them," said Mrs. Myers; "but it's too late to cook any for supper."

She turned away into the house as she spoke, and took Almira with her.

"Now, boys," said Dabney, "we've just time, before supper, to go with these other strings, and get back."

They would have been late indeed, if they had stopped to talk with every one who wanted to admire Dab's big pickerel and Ford's remarkable bass; but a little good management brought them to Dr. Brandegee's in not much more than five times the number of minutes needed to walk the distance. The fish were handed to the door-opener with,—

"The compliments of Mr. Harley, Mr. Kinzer, and Mr. Foster," and a great flourish of a bow from the latter, which could hardly be made to keep that string company till the doctor should see it.

"Now for the minister's."

The good man himself replied to the ring at his door-bell; but Dabney was half sorry he had consented to be spokesman this time.

"My young friends?" said Mr. Fallow inquiringly.

"Fish, sir," said Dab. "Some we caught to-day over in Green Pond. We thought we'd bring you a mess of 'em."

He thought, too, without saying it,—

"Now I've made a mess of it. Why didn't I let Ford do it?"

"Thank you. Thank you, my young friends. Very kind and thoughtful. Won't you walk in?"

"No, sir, thank you. It's most supper-time. We must hurry back."

"Mary! Come and see these fish. Some very fine ones. Going? Indeed? Saw you in church last Sunday. Hope I'll see you there again to morrow. Good-afternoon, my dear young friends."

"Good-afternoon, sir."

They walked away a little rapidly, but with a vivid and decidedly pleasant impression that they had given the pale-faced, earnest-eyed minister an extraordinary amount of comfort.

"The fish ain't worth much," said Ford. "It couldn't have been just them!"

No, indeed, it was not, and they failed to make it out to their satisfaction; but it might have helped them if they had seen him hand the fish to "Mary," and say,—

"There, what do you think of that? The very boys I told you of."

"The ones you saw on the green, fighting?"

"Exactly. I must see Dr. Brandegee. They can't be altogether bad."

"Bad? No! There must be something about it. The doctor always knows. He will be able to explain it, I know."

Great was the confidence of the Grantley people in Dr. Brandegee, as to any and all things relating to "his boys;" and that of Mrs. Fallow was none the less when her husband returned from his evening call.

"Defending that colored boy? You don't say. The dear, brave little fellows! Fighting is dreadful. Did any of them get hurt?"

"Hurt, dear? No; and they gave those young ruffians—H'm! Well—David had to do a great deal of fighting, Mary, but we must not approve too."—

"My dear! I say they did right."

And the little woman's tired face flushed into sudden beauty, with her honest enthusiasm over "those boys."

They had not reached the end of their day's experiences, however, when they left the minister's gate, or even when they arrived at their own.

At that very moment Mrs. Myers was once more standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Dick, as soon as you've had your supper, you may take one of those strings of fish over to Deacon Short's, and another to Mrs. Sunderland's. You may clean all the rest."

"Yes'm," said Dick vaguely, "but dar's on'y one string."

"Only one? Where are all the rest, I'd like to know?"

Dabney and his friends were around the corner of the house now, and her last question was plainly directed to them.

"The rest of what, Mrs. Myers'?"

"Why, the fish. What have you done with them?"

"Oh! they're all right, Mrs. Myers," said Ford. "Fish are good for brains. That's what we've done with 'em."

"Brains? What"—

"Exactly. Next to us three, the men that work their brains the hardest around here are Mr. Fallow and my friend Dr. Brandegee."

"And you never asked me a word about it!"

"About what?" inquired Dabney. "I must say I don't quite understand. Do you mean, about what we were to do with our fish?"

"Of course I do. I can't allow"—

She hesitated a moment, as if the next words were slow in coming; and Dab helped her out with,—

"Can't allow what, Mrs. Myers?" and Ford added,—

"Now, Mrs. Myers, there's nothing healthier than fish. It won't hurt either of 'em. Is supper ready?"

"I hope it is," said Dab. "I'm getting hungry again."

Mrs. Myers looked at them in amazement; and so did Miss Almira, for, if one thing was plainer than another, it was that neither of those three boys understood the nature of her complaint. It did not seem to occur to them, that she had, or could, or would claim any control over the results of their day's fun; not even when she said,—

"I intended one string for Deacon Short, and another for Mrs. Sunderland"—

"Don't work their brains, Mrs. Myers," said Ford. "Don't need any fish. But then, if we have as good luck next time, we'll bear them in mind. We've kept enough pan-fish for breakfast, and the big ones'll be just the thing for dinner."

That had been the plan of Mrs. Myers herself; for she had already said to Almira,—

"It'll be a real saving, and the corned beef'll be just as good on Monday."

More talk would hardly improve such a case as that; and it was really beginning to dawn upon Mrs. Myers, that her three boy boarders had minds and wills of their own, moreover, that they had not the most distant idea of failing to exercise them on every proper occasion.



CHAPTER XXXII.

OLD FRIENDS AND NEIGHBORS OF HIS COME TO VISIT DABNEY.

"Boys," remarked Dab Kinzer, when they gathered in their own room after supper, "I can't say we've learned a great deal this first week; but we've found a tiptop fishing-ground, and we've settled the Hart boys."

"Shouldn't wonder if Mrs. Myers feels a good deal more settled than she did too," said Ford. "But I'm thinking what Frank Harley's going to do with his fingers, when we can give him a chance. We've loads of fun ahead, or I'm mistaken."

"I won't try it on very often," said Frank. "Fun's fun, that's a fact; but I came here to learn something."

"My dear young friend," said Ford, with a sudden imitation of Mr. Fallow, "think of how much you've learned in seven days. Dab's beginning to know so much, he can't talk."

"I'm not just comfortable about Dick," said Dabney.

"Oh! he'll come out all right: the corn's mostly shelled, and the woodpile can't last forever. He doesn't know how to run a sewing-machine. She tried making him read aloud to her and Almira, last night; but Dick thinks she won't ask him to do it again. Don't be troubled about Richard: his future is safe."

Part of it undoubtedly; and the boys had "settled" more things for themselves and him than those they mentioned.

They had settled their own position among the boys of the academy and the village, old and young; for every soul of them had heard about "the big fight on the green" before he went to bed that night. They had secured Dick Lee's position for him: not that they had given him a false one, but that he would be safe to enjoy, almost unmolested, whatever position his own conduct might earn for him. That was all any boy ought to have, black or white.

They had done much, as Ford said, to settle their own position at their boarding-house; but that was nothing of importance compared to the impression they had made upon the large heart and brain of the stately academy principal. They had made a firm friend of him, and of others whose friendship was worth having.

All that was a great deal to have accomplished in one short week, but there was much more that would require their immediate attention.

Books, fishing, lectures, base-ball, French, pigeon-shooting, elocution, kites, composition, nutting, and the academy debating society; and the list of the future demands upon their time grew as they talked, until Ford exclaimed,—

"Hold on, boys: my brains won't stand any more till after I've eaten a supply of fish."

They ought all to have been able to think harder, after the next day's breakfast and dinner; but the "corned beef" came on Monday, and with it, as usual, came corn in other forms. "The farm" had done well that year, with that particular crop; but so had all the other farms, east and west, and Mrs. Myers found her best market for her maize harvest at her own table. It would take a good while to dispose of what Dick had already shelled, and all she could do was to be liberal as to quantity. There was no fault to be found with her on that score, but Dabney did not ask for any more recipes to send home to his mother.

The second week was much longer than the first. Saturday came around very nearly in its own turn this time; but it brought with it such a storm of wind and rain as not only shut Green Pond out of all possible calculations, but kept the village green as well, clear of all boys.

It was a good time to write letters in, and those written were long ones; but they did not contain a solitary complaint of any thing the boys had yet discovered in or about Grantley.

"Hamilton," said Mrs. Kinzer, after pondering a little over her letter when it came, "Dabney seems to be well satisfied."

"Mrs. Foster says Ford and Frank are."

"But I notice he doesn't say any thing about his appetite. I do hope he isn't losing it. He seems to be studying hard."

"Dabney? Lose his appetite in less than two weeks? No, mother Kinzer, it would take him longer than that."

It was just one week later that he showed her a part of a curious epistle he had himself received from Dab. It had evidently been written in a moment of what is called "confidence."

"I tell you what, Ham," he wrote, "mother doesn't know what can be done with corn. Mrs. Myers does. She raised a heap of it, this year; and the things she turns it into would drive a cook-book crazy. I've been giving them Latin names; and Frank, he turns them into Hindustanee. It's real fun sometimes, but I sha'n't be the boy I was. I'm getting corned. My hair is silkier, and my voice is husky. My ears are growing. I'd like a few clams and some fish, once in a while, just for a change. A crab would taste wonderfully good. So would some oysters, and they don't have any up here. We've had one good day's fishing, since we came; but we had to go miles and miles after it. Now, don't you tell mother we don't get enough to eat. There's plenty of it, and you ought to see Mrs. Myers smile when she passes the johnnycake. We're all trying to learn that heavenly smile. Ford does it best. I think Dick Lee is getting a little pale. Perhaps corn doesn't agree with him. He's learning fast, though, and so am I; but we have to work harder than Ford and Frank. I guess the Hart boys know more than they did when they got here; and they didn't learn it all out of their books, either. We keep up our French and our boxing; but oh, wouldn't I like to go for some blue-fish just now! Has mother made any mince-pies yet? I've almost forgotten how they taste. I was going by a house, the other day, and I smelt some ham cooking. I was real glad I hadn't forgotten. I knew what it was, right away. Don't you be afraid about my studying; for I'm at it all the while, except when we're playing ball or eating corn. They say they have sleighing here earlier than we do, and more of it, and plenty of skating. Well, now, don't say any thing to mother about the corn; but won't I eat when I get home! Yours all the while, DABNEY KINZER."

"Why, the poor fellow!" exclaimed Mrs. Kinzer. "It's enough to stop his growth."

It was not many days after that, before Dabney received a couple of boxes by express. The "marks" told where they came from; and he and the other boys carried them right up stairs, in the face of a kind suggestion from Mrs. Myers that "they might take them right out into the kitchen, and open them there."

She had almost ceased from putting her wishes in any more dictatorial form; but she and Almira wondered exceedingly what might be the contents of those boxes.

Dab was only a minute or so in finding out what was in one of them.

"Boiled ham! A whole one! Out with it, Frank. All that brown paper,—why, it's a pair of chickens, all ready to roast."

"Something more's down under those slats," said Ford, in a tone of great excitement.

"Mince-pies! And they're not much mashed, either. It's wonderful how they did pack them."

"Slats and shingles and paper," said Ford. "What can there be in that other box?"

"Shall we eat first, or open it?"

"Open it! Open it! Maybe they've sent you some corn."

Opened it was, with a desperate display of energy.

"Ice!" said Frank Harley.

"Sawdust!" shouted Ford.

"Fish!" said Dabney. "Clams, oysters, crabs, lobsters."

Dick Lee had gazed in absolute silence up to that very moment; and all he could say now was,—

"Ah-h-h! O-h-h-h! Jes' ain't dey fine!"

"Boys," said Dab, with a sort of loving look at the contents of that box, "do you suppose we can eat those fellows?"

"Eat 'em!" exclaimed Ford. "Why, after they're cooked!"

"Well, I s'pose we can; but I feel more like shaking hands with 'em all around, just now. They're old friends and neighbors of mine, you know."

"Yes; but I guess we'd better eat them."

"Cap'n Dab," said Dick, "dey jes' knock all de correck pronounciation out ob me, dey does."

"Ford, Frank, I'll ask Mrs. Myers and Almira up here right away. Those oysters and clams have got to be eaten this very evening."

They did not need twice asking; and there was a thoughtful expression on the face of Mrs. Myers when she looked from one box into the other. It was fairly on her tongue's end to suggest what share of those luxuries should be taken at once to Deacon Short's or Mrs. Sunderland's; but she stopped in time, for that thought was followed by another,—

"What could the boys have been writing home about her cooking and her table?"

There might be something serious in it; for boarders were people who came and went, boys or no boys, and Dab and his friends were just the kind of boys to "come and go." At all events, she could not object to their having such a supply as that sent them; and she took up the responsibility of all the cookery required, at once.

It was a feast while it lasted, and the effects of it upon the character of Mrs. Myers's table were permanent.

There was no further danger that Dab's growth would be checked in any such manner as his mother had feared.

Nor was there any great doubt remaining as to the steadiness of his growth in other ways, during his school days at Grantley; for he and his friends were now "settled;" and they had made that most important success in life,—a Good Beginning.

THE END.