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CHAPTER XXVI.

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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."

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