CHAPTER III. FRANK AT HOME

  Mr. Frost's farm was situated about three-quarters of a mile from thevillage. It comprised fifty acres, of which twenty were suitable fortillage, the remainder being about equally divided between woodland andpasture.

  Mr. Frost had for some years before his marriage been a painter, and hadmanaged to save up from his earnings not far from a thousand dollars.Thinking, however, that farming would be more favorable to health, hepurchased his fifty-acre farm for twenty-eight hundred dollars, payableone thousand down, and the rest remaining on mortgage. At the date ofour story he had succeeded in paying up the entire amount within eighthundred dollars, a mortgage for that amount being held by Squire Haynes.He had not been able to accomplish this without strict economy, in whichhis wife had cheerfully aided him.

  But his family had grown larger and more expensive. Besides Frank, whowas the oldest, there were now three younger children--Alice, twelveyears of age; Maggie, ten; and Charlie, seven.

  The farmhouse was small but comfortable, and the family had never beentempted to sigh for a more costly or luxurious home. They were happy andcontented, and this made their home attractive.

  On the evening succeeding that of the war meeting, Frank was seatedin the common sitting-room with his father and mother. There was awell-worn carpet on the floor, a few plain chairs were scattered aboutthe room, and in the corner ticked one of the old-fashioned clocks suchas used to be the pride of our New England households. In the centerof the room stood a round table, on which had been set a largekerosene-lamp, which diffused a cheerful light about the apartment.

  On a little table, over which hung a small mirror, were several papersand magazines. Economical in most things, Mr. Frost was considered bymany of his neighbors extravagant in this. He subscribed regularlyfor Harper's Magazine and Weekly, a weekly agricultural paper, a dailypaper, and a child's magazine.

  "I don't see how you can afford to buy so much reading-matter," said aneighbor, one day. "It must cost you a sight of money. As for me, I onlytake a weekly paper, and I think I shall have to give that up soon."

  "All my papers and magazines cost me in a year, including postage,is less than twenty dollars," said Mr. Frost quietly. "A very slightadditional economy in dress--say three dollars a year to each of us willpay that. I think my wife would rather make her bonnet wear doubly aslong than give up a single one of our papers. When you think of thecomparative amount of pleasure given by a paper that comes to youfifty-two times in a year, and a little extra extravagance in dress, Ithink you will decide in favor of the paper."

  "But when you've read it, you haven't anything to show for your money."

  "And when clothes are worn out you may say the same of them. But wevalue both for the good they have done, and the pleasure they haveafforded. I have always observed that a family where papers andmagazines are taken is much more intelligent and well informed thanwhere their bodies are clothed at the expense of their minds. Our dailypaper is the heaviest item; but I like to know what is passing in theworld, and, besides, I think I more than defray the expense by theknowledge I obtain of the markets. At what price did you sell yourapples last year?"

  "At one dollar and seventy-five cents per barrel."

  "And I sold forty barrels at two dollars per barrel. I found from mypaper that there was reason to expect an increase in the price, and heldon. By so doing I gained ten dollars, which more than paid the expenseof my paper for the year. So even in a money way I was paid for mysubscription. No, neighbor, though I have good reason to economize, Idon't care to economize in that direction. I want my children to grow upintelligent citizens. Let me advise you, instead of stopping your onlypaper, to subscribe for two or three more."

  "I don't know," was the irresolute reply. "It was pretty lucky about theapples; but it seems a good deal to pay. As for my children, they don'tget much time to read. They've got to earn their livin', and that ain'tdone by settin' down and readin'."

  "I am not so sure of that," said Mr. Frost. "Education often enables aman to make money."

  The reader may have been surprised at the ease with which Mr. Frostexpressed himself in his speech at the war meeting. No other explanationis required than that he was in the habit of reading, every day,well-selected newspapers. "A man is known by the company he keeps."

  "So you gained the prize, Frank?" said his father approvingly. "I amvery glad to hear it. It does you great credit. I hope none were enviousof your success."

  "Most of the boys seemed glad of it," was the reply; "but John Hayneswas angry because he didn't get it himself. He declared that I succeededonly because I was a favorite with Mr. Rathburn."

  "I am afraid he has not an amiable disposition. However, we mustremember that his home influences haven't been the best. His mother'sdeath was unfortunate for him."

  "I heard at the store that you and Squire Haynes had a discussion at thewar meeting," said Frank inquiringly. "How was it, father?"

  "It was on the question of voting a bounty to our volunteers. I feltthat such a course would be only just. The squire objected on the groundthat our taxes would be considerably increased."

  "And how did the town vote?"

  "They sustained my proposition, much to the squire's indignation. Hedoesn't seem to feel that any sacrifices ought to be expected of him."

  "What is the prospect of obtaining the men, father?"

  "Four have already enlisted, but twenty-one are still required. I fearthere will be some difficulty in obtaining the full number. In a farmingtown like ours the young men are apt to go off to other places as soonas they are old enough; so that the lot must fall upon some who havefamilies."

  Frank sat for some minutes gazing thoughtfully into the wood-fire thatcrackled in the fireplace.

  "I wish I was old enough to go, father," he said, at length.

  "I wish you were," said his father earnestly. "Not that it wouldn'tbe hard to send you out into the midst of perils; but our duty to ourcountry ought to be paramount to our personal preferences."

  "There's another reason," he said, after awhile, "why I wish you wereolder. You could take my place on the farm, and leave me free to enlist.I should have no hesitation in going. I have not forgotten that mygrandfather fought at Bunker Hill."

  "I know, father," said Frank, nodding; "and that's his musket that hangsup in your room, isn't it?"

  "Yes; it was his faithful companion for three years. I often think withpride of his services. I have been trying to think all day whetherI couldn't make some arrangement to have the farm carried on inmy absence; but it is very hard to obtain a person in whom I couldconfide."

  "If I were as good a manager as some," said Mrs. Frost, with a smile,"I would offer to be your farmer; but I am afraid that, though myintentions would be the best, things would go on badly under myadministration."

  "You have enough to do in the house, Mary," said her husband. "I shouldnot wish you to undertake the additional responsibility, even if youwere thoroughly competent. I am afraid I shall have to give up the ideaof going."

  Mr. Frost took up the evening paper. Frank continued to lookthoughtfully into the fire, as if revolving something in his mind.Finally he rose, and lighting a candle went up to bed. But he did notgo to sleep for some time. A plan had occurred to him, and he wasconsidering its feasibility.

  "I think I could do it," he said, at last, turning over and composinghimself to sleep. "I'll speak to father the first thing to-morrowmorning."