get the anxiety of Mr. Jaffrey the
night Andy had the scarlet-fever--an anxiety which so infected me that I
actually returned to the tavern the following afternoon earlier than
usual, dreading to hear that the little spectre was dead, and greatly
relieved on meeting Mr. Jaffrey at the door-step with his face wreathed
in smiles. When I spoke to him of Andy, I was made aware that I was
inquiring into a case of scarlet-fever that had occurred the
year before!

It was at this time, towards the end of my second week at Greenton, that
I noticed what was probably not a new trait--Mr. Jaffrey's curious
sensitiveness to atmospherical changes. He was as sensitive as a
barometer. The approach of a storm sent his mercury down instantly. When
the weather was fair he was hopeful and sunny, and Andy's prospects were
brilliant. When the weather was overcast and threatening he grew
restless and despondent, and was afraid that the boy was not going to
turn out well.

On the Saturday previous to my departure, which had been fixed for
Monday, it rained heavily all the afternoon, and that night Mr. Jaffrey
was in an unusually excitable and unhappy frame of mind. His mercury was
very low indeed.

"That boy is going to the dogs just as fast as he can go," said Mr.
Jaffrey, with a woeful face. "I can't do anything with him."

"He'll come out all right, Mr. Jaffrey. Boys will be boys. I would not
give a snap for a lad without animal spirits."

"But animal spirits," said Mr. Jaffrey sententiously, "shouldn't saw off
the legs of the piano in Tobias's best parlor. I don't know what Tobias
will say when he finds it out."

"What! has Andy sawed off the legs of the old spinet?" I returned,
laughing.

"Worse than that."

"Played upon it, then!"

"No, sir. He has lied to me!"

"I can't believe that of Andy."

"Lied to me, sir," repeated Mr. Jaffrey, severely. "He pledged me his
word of honor that he would give over his climbing. The way that boy
climbs sends a chill down my spine. This morning, notwithstanding his
solemn promise, he shinned up the lightning-rod attached to the
extension, and sat astride the ridge-pole. I saw him, and he denied it!
When a boy you have caressed and indulged and lavished pocket-money on
lies to you and _will_ climb, then there's nothing more to be said. He's
a lost child."

"You take too dark a view of it, Mr. Jaffrey. Training and education are
bound to tell in the end, and he has been well brought up."