but it brought with it such a
storm of wind and rain as not only shut Green Pond out of all possible
calculations, but kept the village green as well, clear of all boys.

It was a good time to write letters in, and those written were long
ones; but they did not contain a solitary complaint of any thing the
boys had yet discovered in or about Grantley.

"Hamilton," said Mrs. Kinzer, after pondering a little over her letter
when it came, "Dabney seems to be well satisfied."

"Mrs. Foster says Ford and Frank are."

"But I notice he doesn't say any thing about his appetite. I do hope he
isn't losing it. He seems to be studying hard."

"Dabney? Lose his appetite in less than two weeks? No, mother Kinzer, it
would take him longer than that."

It was just one week later that he showed her a part of a curious
epistle he had himself received from Dab. It had evidently been written
in a moment of what is called "confidence."

"I tell you what, Ham," he wrote, "mother doesn't know what can be done
with corn. Mrs. Myers does. She raised a heap of it, this year; and the
things she turns it into would drive a cook-book crazy. I've been giving
them Latin names; and Frank, he turns them into Hindustanee. It's real
fun sometimes, but I sha'n't be the boy I was. I'm getting corned. My
hair is silkier, and my voice is husky. My ears are growing. I'd like a
few clams and some fish, once in a while, just for a change. A crab
would taste wonderfully good. So would some oysters, and they don't have
any up here. We've had one good day's fishing, since we came; but we had
to go miles and miles after it. Now, don't you tell mother we don't get
enough to eat. There's plenty of it, and you ought to see Mrs. Myers
smile when she passes the johnnycake. We're all trying to learn that
heavenly smile. Ford does it best. I think Dick Lee is getting a little
pale. Perhaps corn doesn't agree with him. He's learning fast, though,
and so am I; but we have to work harder than Ford and Frank. I guess the
Hart boys know more than they did when they got here; and they didn't
learn it all out of their books, either. We keep up our French and our
boxing; but oh, wouldn't I like to go for some blue-fish just now! Has
mother made any mince-pies yet? I've almost forgotten how they taste. I
was going by a house, the other day, and I smelt some ham cooking. I was
real glad I hadn't forgotten. I knew what it was, right away. Don't you
be afraid about my studyin