"Won't yez now? That will be foine." Then the cook stopped short, thinking she had hurt the boy's feelings. "Oh, Master Tom, don't moind me. You're not such an—an awful bother as we think," and then at a wave of Mrs. Rover's hand she disappeared.
After this the evening passed quickly enough, for the boys wanted to know all there was to be learned about their future boarding school. Mr. Rover had a circular of the institution, and they pored over this.
"Captain Victor Putnam is the head master," said Dick, as he read. "He has two assistants, Josiah Crabtree and George Strong, besides two teachers who come in to give instructions in French and German if desired, also in music. Uncle Randolph, are we to take up these branches?"
"I am going to leave you to select your own studies outside of the regular course, Richard. What would be the use of taking up music, for instance, if you were not musically inclined."
"I'd like to play a banjo," said Tom, and grinned as well as the bandage on his head would permit.
"I doubt if the professor of music teaches that plantation instrument," smiled Mrs. Rover. Then she patted Tom's shoulder affectionately.
