CHAPTER XXV.

THE BOYS ON THEIR TRAVELS. A GREAT CITY, AND A GREAT DINNER.

The conductor of that train need not have been much alarmed at falling in with a "picnic" of any moderate size, for he would have had room in his train to seat a good part of it, at least.

The boys had no difficulty in getting seats "all together." That is, they found four empty ones, two on each side, right opposite; and when they had turned over the front seats, there they were. Ford and Frank were facing Dabney and Dick on the right; and the two Hart boys were facing each other on the left, each with a whole seat to himself.

Almost the first thing Joe did, after taking possession, was to lean over, and whisper,—

"Look out, Fuz,—keep your secret."

"Catch me spoiling a good joke."

The other party seemed disposed to keep pretty quiet for a while; the first break of any consequence, in the silence, coming when Ford Foster exclaimed,—

"Dab, it was right along here."

"What was?"

"Where the pig had his collision with my train, first time I was over here."

"Did you hear him squeal?" asked Frank, as he peered through the window.

"The pig? No; but you ought to have heard the engine squeal, when it saw him coming."

The story had to be all told over again, of course, and did good service in getting their thoughts in order for the trip before them. Up to the mention of the pig, it had somehow seemed to Dab as if the railway-platform at the station, and all the people on it, had kept company with the train; and Frank Harley found himself calculating the distance between that car and the "mission" at Rangoon in far-away India.

As for Ford Foster, he stood in less need of any "pig" than the rest, from the fact that he had a large-sized idea in his head.

He kept it there, too, until that train pulled up within reaching distance of one of the Brooklyn ferries. Before them lay the swift tide of the broad East River; and beyond that, with its borders of crowded docks and bristling masts, lay the streets and squares, and swarmed the multitudes, of the great city of New York.

"Ford," said Dabney, "you're captain this time. What are we to do now?"

"Well, if I ain't captain, I guess I'd better do a little steering. We must give our checks to the expressman, and have our luggage carted over to the Grand Central Depot."

"Will it be sure to get there in good time?"

"Of course it wouldn't if we were in any hurry; but our train doesn't leave until three o'clock, and the express won't fail to have it there before that."

Ford was all alive with the responsibilities of his position, as the only boy in the party who had been born in the city, and had travelled all over it, and a little out of it.

"Joe and Fuz," he said, "will want to take the night boat for Albany. They've more time on their hands than we have. Joe?—Fuz?—why can't you come along with us after you've checked your trunks? We'll be getting dinner before long."

The Hart boys promptly assented, after a look at each other, and a sort of chuckle.

"Might as well keep together," said Joe. "We'd like to take a look at things."

"Come along. I'll show you."

Frank Harley had seen quite a number of great cities, and he could hardly help saying something about them while they were going over on the ferryboat. They were all as far forward as they could get.

"Did you ever see any thing just like this?" asked Dab.

"Well, no, not just like it"—

"In India, or in China, or in London, or in Africa?" said Ford.

"It's a little different from any thing I ever saw."

"Well, isn't it bigger?"

That was a question Frank might have undertaken to answer if there had been proper time given him; but just then the boat was running into her "slip," away down town, and Ford exclaimed,—

"Hurrah, boys! Now for Fulton Market and some oysters."

"Oysters?" said Dab.

"Yes, sir! There's more oysters in that old shanty than there are in your bay."

"I don't know about that," said Dab, staring at the queer, huge, rickety old mass of unsightly wood and glass that Ford was pointing at, after they got ashore. "I'm hungry, anyhow."

"Hungry? So am I. But no man ought to say he's been in New York till he's tried some Fulton-Market oysters."

"Let's take 'em raw," said Fuz. "Then we can go ahead."

Dick Lee had been in the city before, but never in such company, nor in such very good clothes; and there was an expression on his face a good deal like awe, when he actually found himself standing at an "oyster-counter," in line with five well-dressed young white boys.

The man behind the counter served him, too, in regular turn; and Dick felt it a point of honor to empty the half-shell before him as quickly as any of the rest. There was no delay about that, anywhere along that line of boys.

"Dick," said Ford, "where's your lemon? There it is!"

Ford had already explained to the rest that it was "against the constitution and by-laws of Fulton Market to eat a raw oyster without the lemon-juice," and Dick would have blushed if he could.

"Dat's so. I forgot um!" and then he added, with great care, "Yes, Mr.
Foster, the lemon improves the oyster."

"I declare!" muttered Ford. "He's keeping it up!"

The oysters were eaten, and then it was "Come on, boys;" and away they went up Fulton Street to Broadway. They walked two and two, as well as the streams of people would let them, but the Hart boys kept a little in the rear.

"What do you think of it, Joe?"

"Think of what?"

"Walking over New York with Dick Lee, just as if he was one of us?"

"Guess nobody'll think we're walking with him. Anybody can tell what we are, just by looking at us."

"Dick's face shows just what he is too. I don't care for this once, but it's awful."

If any such thought were troubling Ford Foster, he made no confession of it, and was even specially careful, now and then, to turn around and address some remark or other to "the member from Africa," as he called him.

"Dick," said Dab in an undertone, as they were leaving the market, "you look out, now: you must have as good a time as any of us, or I won't feel right about it."

"Jes' you sail right ahead, Cap'n Dab. I's on hand."

Ford was determined to "do the honors," and he led them down Broadway to the Battery before he started "up town;" and he had something to say about a great many of the buildings. Dab felt his respect for city boys increasing rapidly, and Dick remarked,—

"Ef he don't know dis coas' mos' as well as I know de bay!"

It looked like it, and he also seemed to be on terms of easy acquaintance with some of the human "fish" they fell in with. Not that he spoke to any of them; but he pointed out the several kinds,—policemen, firemen, messenger-boys, loafers, brokers, post-office carriers, a dozen more, with a degree of confidence which fairly astonished his friends.

"I could learn to tell all of them that wear uniforms, myself," said
Dabney; "but how do you know the others?"

"How do I know 'em? Well, it's just like knowing a miller or a blacksmith, when you see him. They all have some kind of smut on them that comes from their trade."

There may have been something in that, or it may be barely possible that Ford now and then mixed his men a little, and pointed out brokers as "gamblers," and busy attorneys as probable pickpockets. He may have been too confident.

On they went, till the brains of all but Ford and Frank were in a sort of whirl. Even Dab Kinzer was contented to look without talking; and Dick Lee, although he had not a word to say, found unusual difficulty in keeping his mouth shut. It positively would come open, every time Ford pointed out another big building, and told him what it was.

They were not travelling very fast, but they were using a good deal of time in all that sight-seeing; and walking is hungry business, and a few raw oysters could not last six hearty boys very long.

"I say, Ford," sung out Joe from the rear, "isn't it getting pretty near time for us to think of getting something to eat?"

"We're 'most there now. We're going to have our dinner at the
Magnilophant to-day."

"What's that?" said Frank.

"Never heard of it? Oh! You're the member from India. Well, it's the greatest restaurant in the known world, or in Paris either. Beats any thing on Long Island. Serve you up any thing there is, and no living man can tell what he's eating."

Ford was in high spirits, and seemed all one chuckle of self-confidence. It was indeed a remarkably elegant establishment in its line, into which he led them a few minutes later.

There certainly was nothing like it on Long Island, whatever might be true of Paris and other places outside of the "known world."

Dab Kinzer felt like walking very straight as he followed his "leader," and Dick Lee had to use all the strength he had to keep himself from taking his hat right off when he went in.

There was any amount of glitter and shine, in all directions; and Dab had a confused idea that he had never before believed that the world contained so many tables. Ford seemed wonderfully at home and at ease; and Dick found voice enough to say, half aloud,—

"Ain't I glad he's got de rudder, dis time? Cap'n Dab couldn't steer t'rough dis yer."

The "steering" was well done; and it brought them nearly to the farther end of the great, splendid room, and seated them at a round table that seemed as well furnished as even Mrs. Foster's own. They all imitated Ford in hanging their hats on the appointed pegs before sitting down.

"Now, boys, what shall we have?" he said, as he gazed learnedly up and down the printed bill of fare. "Speak up, Joe, Fuz, what's your weakness?"

Every boy of them was willing to let Ford do his best with that part of the dinner; and he was hard at work deciding what soup and fish he had better pick out, when the tall waiter who had bustled forward to receive the coming "order," bent over his shoulder, and pointed to Dick Lee, inquiring,—

"Beg pardon, sah! Is dis young colored gen'l-man of youah party? It's 'gainst de rules ob de establishment, sah."

Dab Kinzer felt his face flush fiery red; and he was on the point of saying something, he hardly knew what, when Ford looked calmly up into the mahogany face of the mulatto waiter, with,—

"You refer to my friend from Africa? We'll talk about that after dinner.
Gumbo soup and Spanish mackerel if you please. Sharp, now!"

"But, sah"—

"Don't be afflicted, my friend. He's as white as anybody, except on
Fridays: this is his black day. Hurry up the soup and fish."

Joe and Fuz were looking as if they were dreadfully ashamed of something; but poor Dick was sitting up as straight as a ramrod, under the influence of a glance that he had taken at the face of Dab Kinzer.

"I isn't goin' back on him and Ford," he said to himself. "I'd foller dem fellers right fru' dis yer eatin'-house."

Frank Harley seemed to be getting some information. In the country he had lived in nearly all his life, "colored people" were as good as anybody if they were of the right sort; and a man's skin had little to do with the degree of respect paid him, although even there it was an excellent thing to be "white."

As for the mulatto waiter, after a moment more of hesitation, he took
Ford's order, and walked dignifiedly away, muttering,—

"Nebber seen de like afore. Reckon I isn't g'wine to tote soup and fish for no nigger: I'll see de boss."

That meant an appeal to the lordly and pompous but quite gentlemanly "head waiter," a man as white as Ford Foster. A word or two to him, a finger pointed towards the upper end of the hall, and the keen eyes of the "man in authority" took it all in.

"Six of them,—five white and one black. Well, Gus, do they look as if they could pay their bill before they go?"

"Yes, sah, dey does. De young gen'lman wid de bill ob fare in his han', he's got moah cheek, an' moah tongue, an' moah lip, sah"—

"Well then, Gus, you just tramp right along. If he and the rest don't care, I don't. It'll be time enough for me to make a fool of myself when somebody offers to pay me for it. Give 'em their dinner! Sharp!"

"It's jes' a mons'ous outrage," growled the offended waiter, as he stalked away; but he took good care to obey his orders, for he had a consciousness that the eyes of his "master" were on him. He could hardly have guessed how completely his errand had been understood by the six boys, or how closely Ford Foster had "hit it." Said he, in reply to an angry remark from Dab Kinzer,—

"It's all humbug. They run this concern to make money, and they want some of ours. Mr. Marigold'll be sent right back with our soup."

He was right; but, before they had eaten their way to the pie and pudding, Ford was dignifiedly informed,—

"If you please, sah, my name isn't Mr. Marigold, sah, it is Mr.
Bellerington, sah; an' my first name isn't Coffee, sah, it's Augustus."

"You don't say," replied Ford: "well, Augustus, don't forget the little remark I made about pie and the other things."

It was a capital dinner; and Ford was proud of it, for he had picked out every item of it, from the soup to the macaroons. Dick Lee had enjoyed it hugely, after he began to feel that his first social victory had been fairly won for him. Still, he had doubts in his own mind as to whether he would ever dare such another undertaking with less than five white boys along to "see him through."

Joe and Fuz ate well; but their spirits were manifestly low, for they were painfully conscious of having forever lost the good opinion of that mulatto waiter.

"But for Dick Lee's being with us," they thought, "he and everybody else would have known we were gentlemen. We'll never be caught in such a trap again."

It is a very sad matter, no doubt, to lose the intelligent respect of such gentlemen as Mr. Augustus Bellerington, but it sometimes has to be done; that is, unless their good opinion is to be gained by some nice little stroke of sneaking cowardice.

Joe and Fuz stood it out, indeed, mainly because they were in some way more afraid of Dab and Ford and Frank than they were of even Augustus.

That, too, was strange; for they were older than either of the others, and taller than any but Dabney himself.

The dinner was well eaten, and it was well paid for, as Dabney remarked when he paid his share and half of Dick's; and then they were all in the street again, marching along, and "sight-seeing," towards the Grand Central Railroad Depot.

CHAPTER XXVI.

THE FIRST MORNING IN GRANTLEY, AND ANOTHER EXCELLENT JOKE.

Ford Foster was the only one of those six boys who had ever seen the great railway-building, and he confessed that it looked a little large, even to him. Frank Harley freely declared that he had seen nothing like it in India; and Dick Lee's eyes showed all the white they had to show, before he had seen the whole of it.

Their first errand was to the baggage-room; and they were on their way when Dab Kinzer thoughtfully remarked,—

"Now, Joe, here we've dragged you and Fuz away up here, miles and miles out of your way."

"That's so," said Ford, "but they can take a street-car down. They've got hours of time to spare."

"No hurry," said Joe: "we'll see you off." But Fuz whispered to him,—

"Time's up, Joe. Joke's got to come out now."

It came out at the baggage-room; for there were the trunks of the Hart boys, and they had to go with the others to the ticket-office for their tickets, before they could get their checks.

"Do you mean you're to go right on now, with us?" said Ford in some astonishment. "I thought you were going home first."

"No. We got a letter three days ago, telling us what to do. Our other things'll be sent on by express."

The "joke" was out, and the two jokers were laughing as though it were a remarkably good one in their estimation; but Ford nodded his head approvingly.

"Uncle Joseph is a wise and careful man about his children," he said slowly. "He didn't mean you should make the trip alone. I'm much obliged to him for such an expression of his confidence in me."

The laugh somehow died away, as if a sudden fit of sickness had carried it off, while a broad smile widened on the faces of the other boys, notably including Dick Lee; but the baggage-checks were to be looked after, and there were seats in the sleeping-car to be secured. The lost joke could hide itself easily in all that hurry and excitement.

"The sleeper'll carry us the best part of the way," said Ford, when at last they took their seats; "but we'll have a doleful little ride on a small railway, early in the morning."

"But that'll take us right up north to Grantley," added Dab, with a long-drawn breath of expectation. The remaining hours of that Friday were largely spent by all six of them in looking out of the windows. When they were not doing that, it was mostly because Joe or Fuz was telling some yarn or other about Grantley and its academy.

They agreed perfectly in their somewhat extravagant praise of Mrs. Myers and her daughter Almira. "She's such a good, kind-hearted, liberal, motherly woman," said Joe.

"And Almira's a sweet young lady," added Fuz, "only she's a little timid about boys."

"Needn't be afraid of us, I guess," said Ford Foster, with a benevolent and protecting expression on his face; while Dab drew a mental picture of the fair Almira as a sort of up-country copy of Annie Foster. After the darkness came, and the "sleeper" was turned into a great travelling-box full of little shaky bedrooms, there was no more talking to be done, and all the boys were tired enough to go to sleep.

One consequence of their beginning their slumbers so early, however, was, that they felt bright and fresh when the porter aroused them before daylight next morning; and they hurriedly dressed themselves for their ride on what Ford Foster called "the switch."

It was quite a respectable railway, however, and it carried them through scenery so different from any that Dabney or Dick was accustomed to, that they lost a good deal of what Joe and Fuz were saying about Dr. Abiram Brandegee, the learned principal of Grantley Academy. It was of less importance, perhaps, because they had heard it all before, and had gathered a curious collection of ideas concerning the man under whose direction they were to get their new stocks of learning.

"Dab," said Dick, "if it was any fellers but them said it, I'd want to go home."

"Well, yes," said Dab quietly; "but then, that's just it. You can't guess when they're telling the truth, and when they ain't."

"Is dar really any fun in lyin', do you s'pose, Dab?"

"Can't say, Dick. Guess there wouldn't be much for you or me."

"Dar's lots ob fun in Ford; an' he tells de truth mos' all de time, stiddy. So does Frank, jes' a little bit stiddier."

"Ford never lies, Dick."

"No, sir, he don't. But w'en anoder feller's lyin', he kin make believe he don't know it bes' of any feller I ebber seen."

"Dick," exclaimed Dabney, "what if Dr. Brandegee had heard you say that!"

"I would tell him I was imitating somebody I had heard," solemnly responded Dick, with fair correctness.

The ride began in the dark hour that comes before the dawn, and the train ran fast. The sun was above the horizon, but had not yet peered over the high hills around Grantley, when the excited schoolboys were landed at the little station in the outskirts of the village. It was on a hillside; and they could almost look down upon a large part of the scene of their "good time coming,"—or their "bad time," a good deal as they themselves might make it.

Dab and his friends saw that valley and village often enough afterwards; but never again did it wear to them precisely the same look it put on that morning, in the growing light of that noble September day. As for Joe and Fuz, it was all an old story to them; and, what was more, they had another first-rate joke on hand.

"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.