hope I have not kept tea waiting, mother," Frank said as he ran in.
"It is not my beetles and butterflies this time. We have been playing a
cricket match, and a first rate one it was. Town boys against the House.
It ended in a tie."

"You are only a quarter of an hour late," his mother said, smiling,
"which is a great deal nearer being punctual than is usually the case
when you are out with your net. We were just going to begin, for I know
your habits too well to give you more than a quarter of an hour's law."

"I'm afraid I am horridly unpunctual," Frank said, "and yet, mother, I
never go out without making up my mind that I will be in sharp to time.
But somehow there is always something which draws me away."

"It makes no matter, Frank. If you are happy and amused I am content,
and if the tea is cold it is your loss, not ours. Now, my boy, as soon
as you have washed your hands we will have tea."

It was a simple meal, thick slices of bread and butter and tea, for Mrs.
Hargate could only afford to put meat upon the table once a day, and
even for that several times in the week fish was substituted, when the
weather was fine and the fishing boats returned, when well laden. Frank
fortunately cared very little what he ate, and what was good enough for
his mother was good enough for him. In his father's lifetime things had
been different, but Captain Hargate had fallen in battle in New Zealand.
He had nothing besides his pay, and his wife and children had lived with
him in barracks until his regiment was ordered out to New Zealand, when
he had placed his wife in the little cottage she now occupied. He had
fallen in an attack on a Maori pah, a fortnight after landing in New
Zealand. He had always intended Frank to enter the military profession,
and had himself directed his education so long as he was at home.

The loss of his father had been a terrible blow for the boy, who had
been his constant companion when off duty. Captain Hargate had been
devoted to field sports and was an excellent naturalist. The latter
taste Frank had inherited from him. His father had brought home from
India--where the regiment had been stationed until it returned for its
turn of home service four years before he left New Zealand--a very large
quantity of skins of birds which he had shot there. These he had
stuffed and mounted, and so dexterous was he at the work, so natural
and artistic were the groups of birds, that he was enabled to add
cons