The last I
heard of him was his election to the legislature."

"That's a bully story," said Charlie, using a word which he had heard
from older boys. "I wish I was a great tall giant."

"What would you do if you were, Charlie?"

"I'd go and fight the rebels," said Charlie manfully.

CHAPTER XX. POMP'S EDUCATION COMMENCES

In the season of leisure from farm work which followed, Frank found
considerable time for study. The kind sympathy and ready assistance
given by Mr. Morton made his task a very agreeable one, and his progress
for a time was as rapid as if he had remained at school.

He also assumed the office of teacher, having undertaken to give a
little elementary instruction to Pomp. Here his task was beset with
difficulties. Pomp was naturally bright, but incorrigibly idle.
His activity was all misdirected and led him into a wide variety of
mischief. He had been sent to school, but his mischievous propensities
had so infected the boys sitting near him that the teacher had been
compelled to request his removal.

Three times in the week, during the afternoon, Pomp came over to the
farm for instruction. On the first of these occasions we will look in
upon him and his teacher.

Pomp is sitting on a cricket by the kitchen fire. He has a primer open
before him at the alphabet. His round eyes are fixed upon the page as
long as Frank is looking at him, but he requires constant watching. His
teacher sits near-by, with a Latin dictionary resting upon a light stand
before him, and a copy of Virgil's Aeneid in his hand.

"Well, Pomp, do you think you know your lesson?" he asks.

"Dunno, Mass' Frank; I reckon so."

"You may bring your book to me, and I will try you."

Pomp rose from his stool and sidled up to Frank with no great alacrity.

"What's that letter, Pomp?" asked the young teacher, pointing out the
initial letter of the alphabet.

Pomp answered correctly.

"And what is the next?"

Pomp shifted from one foot to the other, and stared vacantly out of the
window, but said nothing.

"Don't you know?"

"'Pears like I don't 'member him, Mass' Frank."

Here Frank had recourse to a system of mnemonics frequently resorted to
by teachers in their extremity.

"What's the name of the little insect that stings people sometimes,
Pomp?"

"Wasp, Mass' Frank," was the confident reply.

"No, I don't mean that. I mean the bee."

"Yes, Mass' Frank."

"Well, this is B."

Pomp looked at it attentively,