two boys, one pig, and an unfortunate railway-train.

"that's him!"

dab was standing by his ponies, in front of a store in the village. his mother was making some purchases in the store, and dab was thinking how the morris house would look when it was finished; and it was at him the old farmer was pointing in answer to a question which had just been asked him.

the questioner was the sharp-eyed boy who had bothered poor dick lee that morning, and he was now evidently making a sort of "study" of dab kinzer.

at that moment, however, a young lady—quite young—came tripping along the sidewalk, and was stopped by dabney, with,—

"there, jenny walters! if i didn't forget my label!"

"why, dabney! is that you? how you startled me! forgot your label?"

"yes," said dab; "i'm in another new suit today; and i meant to have a label on the collar, with my name on it. you'd have known me then."

"but i know you now," exclaimed jenny. "why, i saw you yesterday."

"yes, and i told you it was me. can you read, jenny?"

"why, what a question!"

"because, if you can't, it won't do me any good to wear a label."

"dabney kinzer!" exclaimed jenny, "there's an other thing you ought to get."

"what's that?"

"some good manners," said the little lady snappishly. "think of your stopping me in the street to tell me i can't read!"

"then you mustn't forget me so quick," said dab. "if you meet my old clothes anywhere you must call them dick lee. they've had a change of name."

"so he's in them, is he? i don't doubt they look better than they ever did before."

jenny walked away at once, at the end of that remark, holding her head pretty high, and leaving her old playmate feeling as if he had had a little the worst of it. that was often the way with people who stopped to talk with jenny walters, and she was not as much of a favorite as she otherwise might have been.

dabney looked after her with his mouth puckered into shape for a whistle; but she had hardly disappeared before he found himself confronted by the strange young gentleman.

"is your name dabney kinzer?"

"yes, i believe so."

"well, i'm mr. ford foster, from new york."

"come over here to buy goods?" suggested dabney. "or to get something to eat?"

ford foster was apparently of about dab's age, but a full head less in height, so that there was more point in the question than there seemed to be; but he treated it as not worthy of notice, and asked,—

"do you know of a house to let anywhere about here?"

"house to let?" suddenly exclaimed the voice of mrs. kinzer, behind him, much to dab's surprise. "are you asking about a house? whom for?"

ford foster had been quite ready to "chaff" dick lee, and he would not have hesitated about trying a like experiment upon mr. dabney kinzer; but he knew enough to speak respectfully to the portly and business-like lady before him now.

"yes, madam," he said, with a ceremonious bow: "i wish to report to my father that i have found an acceptable house in this vicinity."

"you do!"

mrs. kinzer was reading the young gentleman through and through, as she spoke; but she followed her exclamation with a dozen questions, all of which he answered with a good deal of clearness and intelligence. she wound up at last, with,—

"go right home, then, and tell your father the only good house to let in this neighborhood will be ready for him next week. i'll show it to him when he comes, but he'd better see me at once. dabney, jump into the buggy. i'm in a hurry."

the ponies were in motion, up the street, before ford foster quite recovered from the shock of being told to "go right home."

"a very remarkable woman," he muttered, as he turned away, "and she did not tell me a word about the house, after all. i must make some more inquiries. the boy is actually well dressed, for a place like this."

"mother," said dabney, as they drove along, "you wouldn't let 'em have

ham's house, would you?"

"no, indeed. but i don't mean to have our own stand empty."

with that reply a great deal of light broke in upon dab's mind.

"that's it, is it?" he said to himself, as he touched up the ponies. "well, there'll be room enough for all of us there, and no mistake. but what'll ham say?"

that was a question which he could safely leave to the very responsible lady beside him; and she found "errands" enough for him, during the remainder of that forenoon, to keep him from worrying his mind about any thing else.

as for ford foster, it was not until late on the following day that he completed all his "inquiries" to his satisfaction. he took the afternoon train for the city, almost convinced that, much as he undoubtedly knew before he came, he had actually acquired a good deal more knowledge which might be of some value.

ford was almost the only passenger in the car he had selected. trains going towards the city were apt to be thinly peopled at that time of day; but the empty cars had to be taken along all the same, for the benefit of the crowds who would be coming out later in the afternoon and in the evening. the railway-company would have made more money with full loads both ways, but it was well they did not have a full load on that precise train.

ford had turned over the seat in front of him, and stretched himself out with his feet on it. it was almost like lying down, for a boy of his length; and it was the very best position he could possibly have taken if he had known what was coming.

known what was coming?

yes: there was a pig coming.

that was all; but it was quite enough, considering what that pig was about to do. he was going where he chose, just then; and not only had he chosen to walk upon the railroad-track, but he had also made up his mind not to turn out for that locomotive and its train of cars.

he saw it, of course, for he was looking straight at it; and the engineer saw him, but it would have been well for the pig if he had been discovered a few seconds earlier.

"what a whistle!" exclaimed ford foster at that moment. "it sounds more like the squeal of an iron pig than any thing else. i"—

but at that instant there came to him a great jolt and a shock; and ford found himself tumbled all in a heap, on the seat where his feet had been. then came bounce after bounce, and the sound of breaking glass, and then a crash.

"off the track," shouted ford, as he sprang to his feet. "i wouldn't have missed it for any thing. i do hope, though, there hasn't anybody been killed."

in the tremendous excitement of the moment he could hardly have told how he got out of that car; but it did not seem ten seconds before he was standing beside the engineer and conductor of the train, looking at the battered engine, as it lay upon its side in a deep ditch. the baggage-car, just behind it, was broken all to pieces, but the passenger-cars did not seem to have suffered very much; and nobody was badly hurt, as the engineer and fireman had jumped off in time.

there had been very little left of the pig; but the conductor and the rest seemed much disposed to say unkind things about him, and about his owner, and about all the other pigs they could think of.

"this train'll never get in on time," said ford to the conductor, a little later. "how'll i get to the city?"

the railway man was not in the best of humors; and he answered, a little groutily, "well, young man, i don't suppose the city could get along without you over night. the junction with the main road is only two miles ahead, and if you're a good walker you may catch a train there."

some of the other passengers, none of whom were much more than "badly shaken up," or down, had made the same discovery; and in a few minutes more there was a long, straggling procession of uncomfortable people, marching by the side of the railway-track, in the hot sun. they were nearly all of them making unkind remarks about pigs, and the faculty they had of not getting out of the way.

the conductor was right, however; and nearly all of them managed to walk the two miles to the junction in time to go in on the other train.

ford foster was among the first to arrive, and he was likely to reach home in season, in spite of the pig and his outrageous conduct.

as for his danger, he had hardly thought of that; and he again and again declared to himself that he would not have missed so important an adventure for any thing he could think of. it almost sounded once or twice as if he took to himself no small amount of personal credit, not to say glory, for having been in so remarkable an accident, and come out of it so well.

ford's return, when he should make it, was to take him to a great, pompous, stylish, crowded "up-town boarding-house," in one of the fashionable streets of the great city. there was no wonder at all that wise people should wish to get out of such a place in such hot weather. still it was the sort of home ford foster had been acquainted with all his life; and it was partly owing to that, that he had become so prematurely "knowing."

he knew too much, in fact, and was only too well aware of it. he had filled his head with an unlimited stock of boarding-house information, as well as with a firm persuasion that there was little more to be had,—unless, indeed, it might be scraps of such outside knowledge as he had now been picking up over on long island.

in one of the large "parlor-chambers" of the boarding-house, at about eight o'clock that evening, a middle-aged gentleman and lady, with a fair, sweet-faced girl of about nineteen, were sitting near an open window, very much as if they were waiting for somebody. such a kind, motherly lady! she was one of those whom no one can help liking, after seeing her smile once, or hearing her speak.

ford foster himself could not have put in words what he thought about his mother. and yet he had no difficulty whatever in expressing his respect for his father, or his unbounded admiration for his pretty sister annie.

"o husband!" exclaimed mrs. foster, "are you sure none of them were injured?"

"so the telegraphic report said; not a bone broken of anybody, but the pig that got in the way."

"how i wish he would come!" groaned annie. "have you any idea, father, how ford could get to the city?"

"not clearly, my dear," said her father; "but you can trust ford not to miss any opportunity. he's just the boy to look out for himself in an emergency."

ford foster's father took very strongly after the son in whose presence of mind and ability he expressed so much confidence. he had just such a square, active, bustling sort of body, several sizes larger; with just such keen, penetrating, greenish-gray eyes. anybody would have picked him out at a glance for a lawyer, and a good one.

that was exactly what he was; and, if anybody had become acquainted with either son or father, there would have been no difficulty afterward in identifying the other.

it required a good deal more than the telegraphic report of the accident, or even her husband's assurances, to relieve the motherly anxiety of good mrs. foster, or even to drive away the shadows from the face of annie.

no doubt, if ford himself had known the state of affairs in his family circle, they would have been relieved earlier; for, even while they were talking about him, he had reached the end of his adventures, and was already in the house. it had not so much as occurred to him that his mother would hear of the disaster to the pig and the railway-train until he himself should tell her; and so he had made sure of his supper down stairs before reporting his arrival. he might not have done it perhaps; but he had entered the house by the lower way, through the area door, and that of the dining-room had stood temptingly open, with some very eatable things spread out upon the table.

that had been too much for ford, after his car-ride, and his smash-up, and his long walk.

now, at last, up he came, three stairs at a time, brimful of new and wonderful experiences, to be more than a little astonished by the manner and enthusiasm of his welcome.

"why, mother," he exclaimed, when he got a chance for a word, "you and

annie couldn't have said much more if i'd been the pig himself!"

"the pig!" said annie.

"yes, the pig that stopped us. he and the engine won't go home to their families to-night."

"don't make fun of it, ford," said his mother gently. "it's too serious a matter."

just then his father broke in, almost impatiently, with,—

"well, ford, my boy, have you done your errand? or shall i have to see about it myself? you've been gone two days."

"thirty-seven hours and a half, father," replied ford, taking out his watch. "i've kept an exact account of my expenses. we've saved the cost of advertising."

"and spent it on railroading," said his father, with a laugh.

"but, ford," asked annie, "did you find a house?—a good one?"

"yes," added mrs. foster: "now i'm sure you're safe, i do want to hear about the house."

"it's all right, mother," said ford confidently. "the very house you told me to hunt for. neither too large nor too small. i've only seen the outside of it, but every thing about it is in apple-pie order."

there were plenty of questions to answer now, but

ford was every way equal to the occasion. some of his answers might have made mrs. kinzer herself open her eyes, for the material for them had been obtained from her own neighbors.

ford's report, in fact, compelled his father to look at him with an expression of face which very plainly meant,—

"that's my boy. he resembles me. i was just like him, at his age. he'll be just like me, at mine."

there was excellent reason, beyond question, to approve of the manner in which the young gentleman had performed his errand in the country; and mr. foster promptly decided to go over in a day or two, and see what sort of an arrangement could be made with mrs. kinzer.