Nothing was left lying about, out of place. There was neither stick, nor scrap, nor string, upon the carpet. Chairs stood in their proper places, the lid of his trunk was down, closetdoor and bureau-drawers were duly closed, and no ends peeped out to betray their contents.

The housemaid said, "it was no work at all to take care of Master Howard's room. There was never nothing to pick up; and she believed the very dust didn't settle there, like it did in the other parts of the house."

And yet Howard, as you must have seen, was not a boy to be called a "cot-betty." Manful, enterprising, efficient, no such title of derision could possibly attach to him.

By the head of his bed, against a window that looked out upon the porch wherefrom they had just descended, and which was overhung with the green drapery of the grapevine, stood a small table; and upon this, along | its further side, was ranged a row of books, up on their edges, in the order of their size.

set

"Well, I'm sure I shouldn't mind it a bit, in such a nice place as this, and things so handy."

Johnnie thought, as he spoke, with an inward recoil, of the task that awaited him at home, of the slate and pencil that were to be hunted up,-a vague idea, moreover, haunting him that the slate had slipped out of its frame, and that the latter wasn't "any where." It seemed as if Howard's studying and his own were two very different affairs. And so, in truth, they were.

"Here are the eggs," said Howard, taking the box from a shelf in the closet, wherein, carefully bedded in cotton, lay the beautiful spoils of the last few days. "And now don't touch me, or speak to me. Only look."

It was interesting to watch, as he cautiously punctured the tinted shells at each end with the point of a long needle, which he turned gently, like an awl, with a gradual pressure, until he bored it through; and then, putting his lips to the smaller ends, blew out their contents, one after another, into his washing-basin. Now in this mode of blowing out the contents of his eggs, Howard was

Leverett's Lexicon" and "Gould's Virgil;" "Sherwin's Algebra," a work on Geology, and one on Natural Philosophy; "Nuttall's Ornithology," "Shakspeare," and "The Bible."

Before these, laid neatly one upon another, were two Atlases,—one of the usual maps, and the other of Physical Geography,a portfolio, and a slate, with sponge and nicely-sharpened pencil fastened to it by a

cord.

"What a capital window this is!" cried Johnnie. "I wish I had such a nice place to do my studying in. Do you have all these lessons in vacation ?"

"School wasn't to break up for four or five weeks when I came away," said Howard. "But I hadn't been very well in the spring; and I wanted so much to be in the country in egging-time, that father said I might come up here now, if I would promise him to learn certain lessons every day, until vacation. He said he should trust me to do it, and so I'm on honour, you see."

in the "Boy's Own Magazine," and Howard's was not that plan.--He did it slowly and patiently, Stephen and John keeping quite still at his side, and "only looking," as he had said. Only one egg got slightly cracked in the process, and that Howard mended with a slip of transparent sticking-plaster., In two or three was a bird partially formed, but of a pulpy, gelatinous consistency only; and the breath gradually expelled it successfully from the shell. The head and bill, and the round mass of the body, were plainly discernible in the substance that was ejected.

John looked on with a curious wonder and delight till all was finished, and Howard distributed to each his share,-all drawing lots for choice among those of which there were no duplicates. How light the empty little bubbles felt! Then he waited to see Howard deposit his own in the larger box which he took from his bureau; and which contained his whole collection. There they lay, on a bed of sawdust, nearly fifty of them, of different

sizes and hues,-from the great white egg of a Canada goose, to the tiny, speckled morsel of the house-wren.

"I'm having a box made on purpose, at the cabinet-maker's in the village," said Howard, "of black walnut, divided into compartments; and they are to be filled halfway with black-walnut saw-dust. The eggs look splendid against the dark colour."

Johnnie felt a sort of uncomfortable excitement as Howard said this, that was partly an eager wish to have such an one himself, combined with an instinctive doubt as to whether his father would think it worth while; and partly a feeling that went further back, suggesting dimly the incongruity between this and the generality of his other arrangements.

With Howard, everything was fit and in keeping. It was easy and natural for him to go on adding, as he had opportunity, to his possessions, things of convenience and ornament. He had begun at the beginning, and laid his foundation of order and nicety; and all fell in appropriately. John did not reason so about it; perhaps he scarcely understood his own intuitive perception; but the vague discomfort he felt admonished him of this and nothing else.

Jacob stood in the great south doorway, cleaning a harness that hung over the bar.

"Seems to me yer don't come back as spry as yer went," said he, as John was passing along. "What's the matter! Got lead in yer boots ?"

"But I've

"No," said John, laughing. got my hands full of birds' eggs. And then,-oh, dear me, Jacob! Have you got a slate-pencil ?"

Oh, ho! That's the triberlation, is it? Got some cipherin' ter dew, I guess! Wal, -no,-I ha'n't got no slate-pencil. Ha'n't hed none sence I went ter deestrick school, ten year ago, up in Henniker. When I hev any cipherin' ter dew, I jest scratch it aout, with a piece o' chalk, on a board. Comes as handy's any way. How many eggs yer got?"

"Six. Look at this blue cat-bird's. Isn't it a beauty?"

"Didg' ever see a night-heron's?" asked Jacob. "That's abaout 's harnsome 'n egg's I knows on. 'N', I know a place, tew, where you might get 'm. On'y 't's an awful long way off, an' a nasty kind of a situation when yer git there. A great, dark, lonesome, muggy, musty swamp. Real scary kind of a place. But there's a great colony of herons there, up'n the old pines."

"Oh, Jacob! how jolly!" exclaimed Johnnie. "We'll go! How big are the eggs? And what colour are they?" "Kind of a light yaller green. Bigger'n a pullet's. Clear an' smooth. Not a spot on 'em."

"Oh, Jacob!" repeated John, ecstatically, "Where ?"

Slump! Poh! catch us slumping!" "Tell yer what," said Jacob, giving a last polish, with a bit of wash-silver, to the silver rings in the saddle; "best way 'll be,

ef

yer father's willin', jest ter take me 'n the waggon 'long, some day. P'raps yer might want a hist, now 'n' then, over the stumps. An' them air pines is pooty tall climbin', tew, I tell yer!"

"Yes, we might. But I rather guess we'd hev ter keep it in the waggon. An' 't would n't be likely ter dew much good, 'n seech a case. Yer'll dew well enough, ef yer git yer own legs ter the place, let alone ladders."

66

'Anyhow, we'll go; won't we, Jacob ?" “Purvidin',” replied Jacob, sententiously. "I wonder if we couldn't go to-morrow?" pursued Johnnie.

"I wonder haow much cipherin' yer've got ter dew ter-day ?" rejoined Jacob. "You've jest 'tend ter that, naow, fer a spell: an', mebbe, we'll go this afternoon. Mind, I say mebbe; I don't say sartin; though I don't see nuthin' ter hinder, 's the man said 'baout the water comin' over Nyaggery Falls. Yer father's comin' aout 'n the noon train, an' onless he 's figgered aout sunthin' else fer yer, p'rhaps he won't hev no 'bjection ter that."

she might chance to be lying down, or talking with a friend, or occupied in any one of a dozen different ways that would make such vociferation after her a very unpleasant interruption.

So she had come to the resolution, and given Johnnie to understand, that she should not attempt to answer him until he came On an occasion like this where she was.

it really did not matter to him ;--the calling was a mere affair of habit; he was going up stairs in any case; but there might be circumstances in which he would really be seriously inconvenienced by not being able to speak to her from the foot of the staircase, or from a neighbouring room, and obtain an answer. People are obliged, sometimes, to speak to each other in such a manner; and when they never do so unnecessarily, no one objects to save trouble by replying in a voice adequate to the distance. John deprived himself of the resource in

First, he rushed a little way down the path towards the lane again; then, struck by a new consideration, he stopped short and turned round; then he turned again, with a very uncertain, perplexed expression; then he suddenly broke into a run again, and rushed, without pausing, up the lawn, into the house, and called out frantically to Mrs. Osburn, from the diningroom, where he had given just one hurried glance around,—

"Mother! Mother! Where are you? Are. you up-stairs? Where's my 'Greenleaf'?" Mrs. Osburn did not answer.

John had a habit, which boys are rather apt to fall into, of behaving as if his mother were a sort of ubiquitous household presence, to be invoked anywhere, and at any moment, within doors. He would come in, as he had now done, at the extreme end of the house, and commence shouting, "Mother! Mother!" almost as soon as he stepped over the threshold,-continuing to call with more and more impatience in his voice, during his whole progress through hall, parlour, and up the staircase, never reflecting that his mother might by no means feel inclined

He got half way upstairs before he remembered this maternal edict, and desisted from his effort to obtain a reply; and then it was with irritation, and a muttering of,

"I should think you might answer a fellow, anyhow!"--not actually intended, not to be considered as intended, for his mother's ear, yet reaching her none the less, as of course he knew it would be likely to do.

Still she sat placidly sewing, as if she had heard nothing from first to last, when John entered the room.

"I want my 'Greenleaf," " said he, gruffly. "There it is, upon the table. Do you know how late you are?"

John glanced at the clock upon the mantel-piece. It was past eleven.

He put his eggs into the pasteboard-box his mother had given him, bedded with cotton to lay them in, which he kept on a high shelf in his wardrobe. This, at least, he was obliged to be careful of. A very little thing might crush the whole.

Then he began his search for slate and pencil. He found the former, as he had expected, among the heap of articles on the floor of his wardrobe; but without a frame, and the pencil was nowhere to be seen. He tumbled over drawers,--he felt in pockets, he shook and stirred everything into worse and worse confusion; but no pencil was forthcoming.

A

Ah! order is often more than money! penny would buy pencil enough to last a year, but fifty shillings would'nt bring Johnnie an inch just at the instant when he wanted it so much.

"Mother!" said he, despairingly, as he returned to her chamber at last, "I can't find a slate-pencil anywhere. There is n't one in the house."

His mother rose from her seat, and walked over to a little table that stood in a corner of the room. There was a drawer in this table, that was used for the reception of all sorts of small stray articles. These she looked over, but even here was no slate-pencil.

"I don't know what you'll do, Johnnie," she said. "The time is growing short. You had better begin in some way. I will give you a sheet of foolscap, and you may work out your sums upon that, and then copy them upon this," showing him a nice, smooth sheet of white paper, which, with a carefully sharpened lead-pencil, she had laid in readiness for him, with his "Greenleaf."

"I never can do sums on paper," said John, disconsolately. "I make ten times as many mistakes when I can't rub out."

"Why, what has become of your slateframe?" inquired his mother, noticing suddenly the slate he held in his hand.

"It came off the last day at school," said John. "I brought it home in my satchel, but I don't know where it went to afterwards. 'Tis n't there now."

"Yes; but it kept slipping out of the string. I'll tell you!" said he, brightening up; "I'll run back to Steenie's, and get him to lend me one."

"That's a bad plan, depending on your neighbours," replied his mother.

"Oh, I dare say he's got half-a-dozen. If he hasn't, Howard has."

"Nevertheless, if I allow you to borrow one this once, you must take it back to him directly you have done with it. That will give you some trouble. And before to-morrow you must go and get some for yourself. Will you be sure to remember ?"

"Oh, yes; I'll be sure," replied Johnnie, throwing his slate on the sofa, and hurrying off to his room after his cap.

It was nearly twelve when he came back, and really began upon his work.

There had been no delay in obtaining the pencil. Howard had produced from his table-drawer an oblong box, neatly stored with pens and pencils, and supplied him at once; but John lingered to communicate Jacob's wonderful intelligence of the heronry, and the plan of visiting the swamp: and even Howard could not resist listening and asking questions. In fact, the three boys were in a state of such excitement that twenty minutes slipped away quite unnoticed as they talked the project over.

Mrs. Osburn looked grave when John came back; but she said nothing then. She did not wish to disturb his mind with reproof just as he was about to begin a lesson that would require calmness and attention.

For three quarters of an hour, or more, John ciphered and copied,—at first, without much difficulty or interruption; but the examples gradually became longer and more complicated. He lost considerable time over the "silver tankard" question, forgetting that for gold and silver, troy weight -not avoirdupois-must be used. The shorter the time grew, the more he found that figures would n't be hurried up. Arithmetic is a thing that must either be done or left undone, There can be no slighting, or half-way work about it.

was giving frequent anxious glances at the clock,-when, just as he was about to appeal to his mother for help over a special hobble, she was summoned to the parlour to receive a visitor.

Johnnie's time of trouble had come. Twenty minutes more, and his father would have come, to find the task he had set unfinished. Over and over again he read the question whose answer would not come right; and over and over he calculated the figures without discovering his mistake. At last, leaning his head, that was growing every minute more tired and confused, between his hands, and resting his elbows on his knees, he gave up, and waited helplessly till he heard his mother's step upon the stairs.

'Oh, mother!" he cried, as she entered the room again, "do just look at this awful sum, and see if you can tell where the mistake is!"

"I really can hardly spare the time, Johnnie," replied Mrs. Osburn. "I have left a lady in the parlour who is to stay and dine with us; and I have some orders to give about the table. But let me see what it is," she added, kindly, seeing him to be in real distress. "Let me look at the book. Is this it? Phineas Bailey?"

"Yes, that's it. I don't see what they pick out such names for, to make the questions harder. John Webster is plain enough; but I knew I should get into a mess with Phineas Bailey!"

"Let me see," repeated his mother, taking the slate. According to the book, Phineas is entitled to considerably less than you give him. That's treating an enemy generously, at least!"

Oh, dear me, mother! Don't laugh! It's horrid. I shall never be ready for father when he comes!"

"Don't you see, Johnnie, it's hurry that is doing all the mischief? Hurry, and worry that always comes with it."

"Yes, mother; but I must hurry now," pleaded Johnnie. Do, please, look it

"Fifty-six. Six, and five to carry." "And eight times three?" "Twenty-four.

And five to carry,—why

so it is!" exclaimed Johnnie, astonished at his own blunder. "Twenty-nine! and I've been saying all the time, eight times three are twenty-seven, and five are thirty-two! Thank you, mother! I can do it now!"

His mother stood by a minute or two, while he went through the remainder of the sum, correcting figures that were made wrong by the error at the outset ; and then, when he laid down his slate-pencil to copy the example on paper, she quietly took it up and sharpened it with a knife she kept in her work-basket. He had worn the nice point quite down to a round, blunt end. Next, she brought a dampened rag, and taking up the slate, as he safely transferred the amount that was justly due to Phineas Bailey, she wiped it clean on both sides.

"I think," said she, as she gave them back to Johnnie, "that half the trouble in doing any work is diminished, when one's implements are all in proper order for use. I could not accomplish so much sewing in the same time, if my work-basket, by any accident, became disordered, as if all were straight and comfortable.”

John felt the comfort of the clean slate, and the sharp pencil, as he set clear, round figures for his next example; and his head was really less confused, now that the blurr of the old work was wiped away. If he had only had a little more time !

But just as he had reduced 15 miles, 6 furlongs, 37 rods, to rods, his father's step sounded on the stairs, and he came up into the dressing-room.

He saw that John's work was not yet done, and he did not interrupt him then with questions, but quietly gave the necessary attention to his toilet, and went down stairs. He would not interfere with the last chance.

John had hardly written out the answer, when the dinner-bell rang.

It was all over now. He had his hands and face to wash, and his hair to brush; and he must not go down late to dinner. And there was yet another example remaining to be done!