CHAPTER IX.
THERE ARE DIFFERENT KINDS OF BOYS.
Ham Morris was a thoughtful and kind-hearted fellow, beyond a doubt; andhe was likely to be a valuable friend for a growing boy like Dab Kinzer.It is not everybody's brother-in-law who would find time during hiswedding-trip to hunt up even so pretty a New-England village asGrantley, and inquire into questions of board and lodging and schooling.
That was precisely what Ham did, however; and Miranda went with him ofcourse.
Mrs. Myers, to the hospitalities of whose cool and roomy-looking househe had been commended by Mr. Hart, was so "crowded full with summerboarders," liberally advertised for in the great city, that she hadhardly a corner left in which to stow away Ham and his bride, for evenone night. She was glad enough, however, that she had made the effort,and found one, after she discovered the nature of the stranger's errandin Grantley, and that it included "winter board" for a whole boy.
There was a look of undisguised astonishment on the faces of the regularguests when they gathered for the next meal. It happened to be supper,but they all looked at the table and then at one another. It was a pityHam and Miranda did not understand the meaning of those glances, or elsethat they did not make a longer stay with Mrs. Myers. They might havelearned more about her and her boarding-house, if not about the academy.As it was, they only gathered a very high opinion of her cookery andhospitality, as well as an increase of respect for the "institution oflearning," and for that excellent gentleman Mr. Hart; with a dim hopethat Dabney Kinzer might be permitted to enjoy the inestimableadvantages offered by Grantley and Mrs. Myers, and the society of Mr.Hart's two wonderful boys.
Miranda was inclined to stand up for her brother somewhat, but finallyagreed with Ham, that,--
"What Dabney needs is schooling and polish, my dear. It'll be good forhim to board in the same house with two such complete young gentlemen asthe Hart boys."
"Of course, Ham. And then, too, we'll feel sure of his having plenty toeat. There was almost too much on the table."
"Not if the boarders had all been boys of Dab's age, and with hisappetite. Mrs. Myers is evidently accustomed to provide for them, Ishould say."
So she was; and Ham and Miranda left Grantley next morning, after a veryearly breakfast; and, when the regular boarders came to theirs, theymight have guessed at once that the "transient guests" had gone. Theyeven guessed it out loud at dinner and at supper.
Mrs. Myers had given Ham and his bride a world of interestinginformation about Grantley, and the things and people in it; but therewas one thing she had forgotten or neglected to mention. She had failedto tell them that the house she lived in, and the outlying farmbelonging to it, and nearly all the house-hold effects it contained,were the property of Mr. Joseph Hart, having cost that gentleman verylittle more than a sharp lawsuit. Neither did she say a word about howlong a time he had given her to pay him his price for it. All that washer own private affair, and none of Ham's business, or Miranda's. Still,it might have had its importance in their minds, if they had beeninformed of it.
Perhaps, too, some of their rosy impressions might have been a littlemodified if they could have been at the breakfast-table of the Harthomestead the morning after Annie Foster's sudden departure.
The table, truly, was there, as usual, with the breakfast-things on it,and there were husband and wife at either end; but the two side seatswere vacant.
"Where are Joe and Foster, Maria?" asked Mr. Hart.
"I'm sure they're up, father. I heard them come down stairs an hourago."
"I can't wait for them"--
"You came home late last night, and they haven't seen you since Anniewent away." There had been a suppressed sound of whispers in the entry,and the door had been held open about half an inch by some hand on theother side. It is possible, therefore, that Mr. Hart's reply was heardoutside.
"Oh, I see! it's about Annie. Look here, Maria: they may have gone alittle too far, but if Annie can't take a joke"--
"So I tried to say to her," began his wife; but at that instant thewhispers in the entry swelled suddenly to loud voices, and two boys camenoisily in, and filled the side chairs at the table.
"Sit down, my dears," said Mrs. Hart, with an admiring glance from oneto the other. "I have told your father about the sad trick you playedupon your cousin."
"Yes, you young rogues," added Mr. Hart, with affected sternness: "youhave driven her out of the house."
"Joe," said the boy on the left, to his brother across the table, "ain'tyou glad she's gone?"
"You bet I am. She's too stiff and steep for me. Spoiled all the fun wehad."
"And so you spoiled her cuffs and collars for her. It was too badaltogether. I'm afraid there won't be much comfort for anybody in thishouse till you two get back to Grantley."
"Fuz," said Joe, "do you hear that? They're going to give us anotherterm at Grantley."
"I don't care how soon we go, so we haven't got to board at old motherMyers's."
"I can't say about that," said Mr. Hart. "I half made her a promise"--
"That we'd board there?" exclaimed Fuz rebelliously.
"Now, boys," said their mother, in a gentle voice, that sounded a littlelike good Mrs. Foster's; but Joe sustained his brother with,--
"Prison-fare, and not half enough of it. I just won't stand it anotherwinter!"
"I'm not so sure it will be necessary, after all," said their father,who seemed to have dismissed Annie's grievance from his mind for thepresent. "Your cousin Ford is sure to go; and I'm almost certain ofanother boy, besides the missionary's son. If she gets a few othersherself, her house'll be full enough, and you can board somewhere else."
"Hurrah for that!" shouted Fuz. "And, if the new house doesn't feed uswell, we'll tear it down."
"If you don't tear ours down before you go, I'll be satisfied. Maria,you must write to your sister, and smooth the matter over. Boys will beboys, and I wouldn't like to have any coolness spring up. Mr. Foster'llunderstand it."
That was very nearly all that was said about it, and the two boysevidently had had no need for any hesitation in coming in to breakfast.
They were not so bad-looking a pair, as boys go; although it may be fewother people would have seen so much to admire in them as their motherdid.
Joe, the elder, was a loud, hoarse-voiced, black-eyed boy, of seventeenor thereabouts, with a perpetual grin on his face, as if he haddiscovered in this world nothing but a long procession of things to belaughed at. Foster, so named after his lawyer relative, was a year and ahalf younger, but nearly as tall as Joe. He was paler, but with hair andeyes as dark, and he wore a sort of habitual side-look, as if his mindwere all the while inquiring if anybody within sight happened to haveany thing he wanted.
They both bore a strong likeness to their father, only they missedsomething bluff and hearty in his accustomed manner; and they each hadalso a little suggestion of their mother, that did not, however go sofar as to put anybody in mind of their aunt Foster.
Nobody need have failed to see, at all events, after watching one or twoof their glances at each other, that they were the very boys to play themeanest kind of practical jokes when they could do it safely. There isreally no accounting for boys; and Joe and Fuz, therefore, might fairlybe set down among the "unaccountables."
There was no sort of wonder that their easy-going mother and theirjoke-admiring father should be quite willing to have them spendthree-quarters of the year at boarding-school, and as much as possibleof the remainder somewhere else than "at home."
After Mr. Hart went out to his business that morning, and Mrs. Hart setherself about her usual duties, Joe and Fuz took with them into thestreet the whole Grantley question.
"We'll have to go, Fuz."
"Of course. But we must have more to eat, and more fun, than we had lasttime."
"Ford's coming, is he? The little prig! We'll roast him."
"So we will that young missionary."
"Look out about him, Joe, while he's
at our house. He's coming righthere, you know."
"Don't you be afraid. His folks are old friends of mother's. We'll letup on him till we get him safe to Grantley."
"Then we'll fix him."
They had plots and plans enough to talk about; but neither they, nor anyof the boys they named, nor any of the other boys they did not name, hadthe least idea of what the future really had in store for them. DabKinzer and Ford Foster, in particular, had no idea that the worldcontained such a place as Grantley, or such a landlady as Mrs. Myers.
They had as little suspicion of them as they had had of finding AnnieFoster in the sitting-room that day, when they walked in with theirfamous strings of fish.
Ford kissed his sister, but that operation hardly checked him for aninstant in his voluble narrative of the stirring events of his firstmorning on the bay. There was really little for anybody else to do butto listen, and it was worth hearing.
There was no sort of interruption on the part of the audience; but themoment Ford paused for breath his mother said,--
"Are you sure the black boy was not hurt, Ford?"
"Hurt, mother? Why, he seems to be a kind of black-fish. The rest allknow him, and they went right past my hook to his, all the while."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Mrs. Foster: "I forgot. Annie, this is Ford'sfriend Dabney Kinzer, our neighbor."
"Won't you shake hands with me, Mr. Kinzer?" said Annie, with amalicious twinkle of fun in her merry blue eyes.
Poor Dabney! He had been in quite a "state of mind" for at least threeminutes; but he would hardly have been his own mother's son if he hadlet himself be entirely "posed." Up rose his long right arm, with theheavy string of fish at the end of it; and Annie's fun broke out into amusical laugh, just as her brother exclaimed,--
"There now, I'd like to see the other boy of your size can do that. Lookhere, Dab, where'd you get your training?"
"I mustn't drop the fish, you see," began Dab; but Ford interrupted himwith,--
'No, indeed! You've given me half I've got, as it is. Annie, have youlooked at the crabs? You ought to have seen Dick Lee, with a lot of 'emgripping in his hair."
"In his hair?"
"When he was down through the bottom of his boat. They'd have eaten himup if they'd had a chance. You see, he's no shell on him."
"Exactly," said Annie, as Dab lowered his fish. "Well, Dabney, I wishyou would thank your mother for me, for sending my trunk over. Yoursisters too. I've no doubt we shall be very neighborly."
It was wonderfully pleasant to be called by his first name by so verypretty a young lady, and yet it seemed to bring up something curiousinto Dabney Kinzer's throat.
"She considers me a mere boy, and she means I'd better take my fishright home," was the next thought that came to him; and he was right, toa fraction. So the great lump in his throat took a very wayward andboyish form, and came out as a reply, accompanied by a low bow,--
"I will, thank you. Good-afternoon, Mrs. Foster. I'll see you to-night,Ford, about Monday and the yacht. Good-afternoon, Annie."
And then he marched out with his fish.
"Mother, did you hear him call me 'Annie'?"
"Yes; and I heard you call him 'Dabney.'"
"But he's only a boy "--
"I don't care," exclaimed Ford. "He's an odd fellow, but he's a goodone. Did you see how wonderfully strong he is in his arms? I couldn'tlift these fish at arm's-length, to save my life."
He knew, for he had been trying his best with his own.
It was quite likely that Dab Kinzer's rowing, and all that sort ofthing, had developed in him greater strength of muscle than even hehimself was aware of; but for all that he went home with his very earstingling.
"Could she have thought me ill-bred or impertinent?" he muttered tohimself.
Thought? About him?
Poor Dab Kinzer! Annie Foster had so much else to think of just then;for she was compelled to go over, for Ford's benefit, the whole story ofher tribulations at her uncle's, and the many rudenesses of Joe Hart andhis brother Fuz.
"They ought to be drowned," said Ford indignantly.
"In ink," added Annie. "Just as they drowned my poor cuffs and collars."