ng them, that they called him
Bishop Hancock, for he was as a bishop to them; and they loved and
revered him as much as they would have hated a real bishop.

His grandson, John Hancock, came to live with him, and went to school
with us. Young John was of our age, bright, quick-witted, with a kind
heart, an open hand, and a full allowance of self-conceit.

He was always boasting about his Uncle Thomas, the richest man in
Boston, of his wharf and warehouses and ships, and of his new stone
house on the Beacon Hill.

"And after I go to college, I'm going to live with Uncle Thomas, and be
a merchant like him," he used to proclaim.

Edmund, Davy, and I went up to Bishop Hancock's one noon with John, and
made a careful and minute survey of the premises, after the manner of
boys. We inspected the pigs beneath the barn, and got a pail of water
and scrubbed them with a broom till we were satisfied with their
appearance. Then we learned the names and good points of the cows and
horses. When we got to the loft, Davy made a great discovery--a pigeon
net stowed away on the rafters. Before we left, John had obtained a
promise from his grandfather that he might use it to catch pigeons.

The next day we took it to a hill on the other side of the road, and
looked for a place to spread it. John knew as much about pigeon catching
as a hen does about skating. But he ordered us about, right and left,
till Davy objected.

"See here, John! That place you chose is full of humps and hollows, and
won't do. We want a level spot, where the net will lie flat; and we must
have a good place near by, where we can hide. What's the matter with
that open place over there, with the big clump of bushes behind it?"

[Sidenote: THEY SET A PIGEON NET]

"Well, I guess that's all right."

"Now, boys," said Davy, "peg down one end of the net. That's it. Spread
it out. It lies like a tablecloth on a table. Fold it up, so that the
pole will be on top. Now fasten the springs into the ground. Set them
and rest the pole on them. Fasten the strings to each spring, so that
when we pull, the springs will fly up, and throw the pole forward over
the pigeons. That's right. Now let's try it."

We went back toward the bushes and pulled the strings. The springs threw
the pole forward, and the net was spread out on the ground.

"How soon can we begin, Davy?" asked John.

"Not for three or four days. We'll fold the net up and set it; and you
must come up here every