the whole, I don’t know but I’m satisfied,” he said, recurring to the intelligence John had brought. “So far as I am concerned, I am glad he has made choice of this boy.”
“You don’t think he is competent?” asked John, in surprise.
“For that very reason I am glad he has been selected,” said the squire emphatically. “I take it for granted that the farm will be mismanaged, and become a bill of expense, instead of a source of revenue. It’s pretty certain that Frost won’t be able to pay the mortgage when it comes due. I can bid off the farm for a small sum additional and make a capital bargain. It will make a very good place for you to settle down upon, John.”
“Me!” said John disdainfully. “You don’t expect me to become a plodding farmer, I trust. I’ve got talent for something better than that, I should hope.”
“No,” said the squire, “I have other news for you. Still, you could hire a farmer to carry it on for you, and live out there in the summer.”
“Well, perhaps that would do,” said John, thinking that it would sound well for him, even if he lived in the city, to have a place in the country. “When does the mortgage come due, father?”
“I don’t remember the exact date. I’ll look and see.”
The squire drew from a closet a box hooped with iron, and evidently made for security. This was his strong-box, and in this he kept his bonds, mortgages, and other securities.
He selected a document tied with red ribbon, and examined it briefly.
“I shall have the right to foreclose the mortgage on the first of next July,” he said.
“I hope you will do it then. I should like to see them Frosts humbled.”
“THEM Frosts! Don’t you know anything more about English grammar, John?”
“Those Frosts, then. Of course, I know; but a feller can’t always be watching his words.”
“I desire you never again to use the low word ‘feller,’” said the squire, who, as the reader will see, was more particular about grammatical accuracy than about some other things which might be naturally supposed to be of higher importance.
“Well,” said John sulkily, “anything you choose.”
“As to the mortgage,” proceeded Squire Haynes, “I have no idea they will be able to lift it. I feel certain that Frost won’t himself have the money at command, and I sha’n’t give him any grace, or consent to a renewal. He may be pretty sure of that.”
“Perhaps he’ll find somebody to lend him the money.”
“I think not. There are those who would be willing, but I question whether there is any such who could raise the money at a moment’s warning. By the way, you need not mention my purpose in this matter to any one. If it should leak out, Mr. Frost might hear of it, and prepare for it.”
“You may trust me for that, father,” said John, very decidedly; “I want to see Frank Frost’s proud spirit humbled. Perhaps he’ll feel like putting on airs after that.”
From the conversation which has just been chronicled it will be perceived that John was a worthy son of his father; and, though wanting in affection and cordial good feeling, that both were prepared to join hands in devising mischief to poor Frank and his family. Let us hope that the intentions of the wicked may be frustrated.
CHAPTER VIII. DISCOURAGED AND ENCOURAGED
In a small village like Rossville news flies fast. Even the distinctions of social life do not hinder an interest being felt in the affairs of each individual. Hence it was that Mr. Frost’s determination to enlist became speedily known, and various were the comments made upon his plan of leaving Frank in charge of the farm. That they were not all favorable may be readily believed. Country people are apt to criticize the proceedings of their neighbors with a greater degree of freedom than is common elsewhere.
As Frank was on his way to school on Saturday morning, his name was called by Mrs. Roxana Mason, who stood in the doorway of a small yellow house fronting on the main street.
“Good morning, Mrs. Mason,” said Frank politely, advancing to the gate in answer to her call.
“Is it true what I’ve heard about your father’s going to the war, Frank Frost?” she commenced.
“Yes, Mrs. Mason; he feels it his duty to go.”
“And what’s to become of the farm? Anybody hired it?”
“I am going to take charge of it,” said Frank modestly.
“You!” exclaimed Mrs. Roxana, lifting both hands in amazement; “why, you’re nothing but a baby!”
“I’m a baby of fifteen,” said Frank good-humoredly, though his courage was a little dampened by her tone.
“What do you know about farming?” inquired the lady, in a contemptuous manner. “Your father must be crazy!”
“I shall do my best, Mrs. Mason,” said Frank quietly, but with heightened color. “My father is willing to trust me; and as I shall have Mr. Maynard to look to for advice, I think I can get along.”
“The idea of putting a boy like you over a farm!” returned Mrs. Roxana, in an uncompromising tone. “I did think your father had more sense. It’s the most shiftless thing I ever knew him to do. How does your poor mother feel about it?”
“She doesn’t seem as much disturbed about it as you do, Mrs. Mason,” said Frank, rather impatiently; for he felt that Mrs. Mason had no right to interfere in his father’s arrangements.
“Well, well, we’ll see!” said Mrs. Roxana, shaking her head significantly. “If you’ll look in your Bible, you’ll read about ‘the haughty spirit that goes before a fall.’ I’m sure I wish you well enough. I hope that things’ll turn out better’n they’re like to. Tell your mother I’ll come over before long and talk with her about it.”
Frank inwardly hoped that Mrs. Roxana wouldn’t put herself to any trouble to call, but politeness taught him to be silent.
Leaving Mrs. Mason’s gate, he kept on his way to school, but had hardly gone half a dozen rods before he met an old lady, whose benevolent face indicated a very different disposition from that of the lady he had just parted with.
“Good morning, Mrs. Chester,” said Frank cordially, recognizing one of his mother’s oldest friends.
“Good morning, my dear boy,” was the reply. “I hear your father is going to the war.”
“Yes,” said Frank, a little nervously, not knowing but Mrs. Chester would view the matter in the same way as Mrs. Mason, though he felt sure she would express herself less disagreeably.
“And I hear that you are going to try to make his place good at home.”
“I don’t expect to make his place good, Mrs. Chester,” said Frank modestly, “but I shall do as well as I can.”
“I have no doubt of it, my dear boy,” said the old lady kindly. “You can do a great deal, too. You can help your mother by looking out for your brothers and sisters,
