hey just carried on because they enjoyed it. It made them
feel good to make other people miserable, especially boys. That was why
they were always interfering.

Thus reflecting sagely, he kept his eyes on his plate and did justice
to the fare; for one cannot scorch from the Cliff House to the Western
Addition via the park without being guilty of a healthy appetite.

Now and then his father directed a glance at him in a certain mildly
anxious way. Joe did not see these glances, but Bessie saw them, every
one. Mr. Bronson was a middle-aged man, well developed and of heavy
build, though not fat. His was a rugged face, square-jawed and
stern-featured, though his eyes were kindly and there were lines about
the mouth that betokened laughter rather than severity. A close
examination was not required to discover the resemblance between him
and Joe. The same broad forehead and strong jaw characterized them both,
and the eyes, taking into consideration the difference of age, were as
like as peas from one pod.

"How are you getting on, Joe?" Mr. Bronson asked finally. Dinner was
over and they were about to leave the table.

"Oh, I don't know," Joe answered carelessly, and then added: "We have
examinations to-morrow. I'll know then."

"Whither bound?" his mother questioned, as he turned to leave the room.
She was a slender, willowy woman, whose brown eyes Bessie's were, and
likewise her tender ways.

"To my room," Joe answered. "To work," he supplemented.

She rumpled his hair affectionately, and bent and kissed him. Mr. Bronson
smiled approval at him as he went out, and he hurried up the stairs,
resolved to dig hard and pass the examinations of the coming day.

Entering his room, he locked the door and sat down at a desk most
comfortably arranged for a boy's study. He ran his eye over his
text-books. The history examination came the first thing in the morning,
so he would begin on that. He opened the book where a page was turned
down, and began to read:

Shortly after the Draconian reforms, a war
broke out between Athens and Megara respecting
the island of Salamis, to which both cities
laid claim.

That was easy; but what were the Draconian reforms? He must look them up.
He felt quite studious as he ran over the back pages, till he chanced to
raise his eyes above the top of the book and saw on a chair a baseball
mask and a catcher's glove. They should n't have lost that game last
Saturday, he thought, and they