Randolph Rover waved his hand grandiloquently. It was easy to see that scientific farming was his hobby.
"Randolph!" It was the voice of Mrs. Rover, who now appeared beside her husband. "What is the matter with your nose?"
"Tom hit me with his ball. It is all right now, although it did bleed some."
"The bad boy! But it is just like him. Sarah has given notice that she will leave at the end of her month. She says she can't stand the pranks Tom and Sam play on her."
"She need not go—for the boys are going to boarding school, you know."
"She says you promised to send them off before."
"Well, they shall go this time, rest assured of that. I cannot stand their racing up and down stairs, and their noise, any longer. They go Monday morning."
"Better send them off to-morrow."
"Well—er—that is rather sudden."
"Sarah's month is up Friday. She will surely go unless the boys are out of the house,—and she is the best cook I have ever had."
"Excepting when she burnt the custard pies," put in Tom.
"And when she salted the rice pudding," added Sam.
