there are different kinds of boys.

ham morris was a thoughtful and kind-hearted fellow, beyond a doubt; and he was likely to be a valuable friend for a growing boy like dab kinzer. it is not everybody's brother-in-law who would find time during his wedding-trip to hunt up even so pretty a new-england village as grantley, and inquire into questions of board and lodging and schooling.

that was precisely what ham did, however; and miranda went with him of course.

mrs. myers, to the hospitalities of whose cool and roomy-looking house he had been commended by mr. hart, was so "crowded full with summer boarders," liberally advertised for in the great city, that she had hardly a corner left in which to stow away ham and his bride, for even one night. she was glad enough, however, that she had made the effort, and found one, after she discovered the nature of the stranger's errand in grantley, and that it included "winter board" for a whole boy.

there was a look of undisguised astonishment on the faces of the regular guests when they gathered for the next meal. it happened to be supper, but they all looked at the table and then at one another. it was a pity ham and miranda did not understand the meaning of those glances, or else that they did not make a longer stay with mrs. myers. they might have learned more about her and her boarding-house, if not about the academy. as it was, they only gathered a very high opinion of her cookery and hospitality, as well as an increase of respect for the "institution of learning," and for that excellent gentleman mr. hart; with a dim hope that dabney kinzer might be permitted to enjoy the inestimable advantages offered by grantley and mrs. myers, and the society of mr. hart's two wonderful boys.

miranda was inclined to stand up for her brother somewhat, but finally agreed with ham, that,—

"what dabney needs is schooling and polish, my dear. it'll be good for him to board in the same house with two such complete young gentlemen as the hart boys."

"of course, ham. and then, too, we'll feel sure of his having plenty to eat. there was almost too much on the table."

"not if the boarders had all been boys of dab's age, and with his appetite. mrs. myers is evidently accustomed to provide for them, i should say."

so she was; and ham and miranda left grantley next morning, after a very early breakfast; and, when the regular boarders came to theirs, they might have guessed at once that the "transient guests" had gone. they even guessed it out loud at dinner and at supper.

mrs. myers had given ham and his bride a world of interesting information about grantley, and the things and people in it; but there was one thing she had forgotten or neglected to mention. she had failed to tell them that the house she lived in, and the outlying farm belonging to it, and nearly all the house-hold effects it contained, were the property of mr. joseph hart, having cost that gentleman very little more than a sharp lawsuit. neither did she say a word about how long a time he had given her to pay him his price for it. all that was her own private affair, and none of ham's business, or miranda's. still, it might have had its importance in their minds, if they had been informed of it.

perhaps, too, some of their rosy impressions might have been a little modified if they could have been at the breakfast-table of the hart homestead the morning after annie foster's sudden departure.

the table, truly, was there, as usual, with the breakfast-things on it, and there were husband and wife at either end; but the two side seats were vacant.

"where are joe and foster, maria?" asked mr. hart.

"i'm sure they're up, father. i heard them come down stairs an hour ago."

"i can't wait for them"—

"you came home late last night, and they haven't seen you since annie went away." there had been a suppressed sound of whispers in the entry, and the door had been held open about half an inch by some hand on the other side. it is possible, therefore, that mr. hart's reply was heard outside.

"oh, i see! it's about annie. look here, maria: they may have gone a little too far, but if annie can't take a joke"—

"so i tried to say to her," began his wife; but at that instant the whispers in the entry swelled suddenly to loud voices, and two boys came noisily in, and filled the side chairs at the table.

"sit down, my dears," said mrs. hart, with an admiring glance from one to the other. "i have told your father about the sad trick you played upon your cousin."

"yes, you young rogues," added mr. hart, with affected sternness: "you have driven her out of the house."

"joe," said the boy on the left, to his brother across the table, "ain't you glad she's gone?"

"you bet i am. she's too stiff and steep for me. spoiled all the fun we had."

"and so you spoiled her cuffs and collars for her. it was too bad altogether. i'm afraid there won't be much comfort for anybody in this house till you two get back to grantley."

"fuz," said joe, "do you hear that? they're going to give us another term at grantley."

"i don't care how soon we go, so we haven't got to board at old mother

myers's."

"i can't say about that," said mr. hart. "i half made her a promise"—

"that we'd board there?" exclaimed fuz rebelliously.

"now, boys," said their mother, in a gentle voice, that sounded a little like good mrs. foster's; but joe sustained his brother with,—

"prison-fare, and not half enough of it. i just won't stand it another winter!"

"i'm not so sure it will be necessary, after all," said their father, who seemed to have dismissed annie's grievance from his mind for the present. "your cousin ford is sure to go; and i'm almost certain of another boy, besides the missionary's son. if she gets a few others herself, her house'll be full enough, and you can board somewhere else."

"hurrah for that!" shouted fuz. "and, if the new house doesn't feed us well, we'll tear it down."

"if you don't tear ours down before you go, i'll be satisfied. maria, you must write to your sister, and smooth the matter over. boys will be boys, and i wouldn't like to have any coolness spring up. mr. foster'll understand it."

that was very nearly all that was said about it, and the two boys evidently had had no need for any hesitation in coming in to breakfast.

they were not so bad-looking a pair, as boys go; although it may be few other people would have seen so much to admire in them as their mother did.

joe, the elder, was a loud, hoarse-voiced, black-eyed boy, of seventeen or thereabouts, with a perpetual grin on his face, as if he had discovered in this world nothing but a long procession of things to be laughed at. foster, so named after his lawyer relative, was a year and a half younger, but nearly as tall as joe. he was paler, but with hair and eyes as dark, and he wore a sort of habitual side-look, as if his mind were all the while inquiring if anybody within sight happened to have any thing he wanted.

they both bore a strong likeness to their father, only they missed something bluff and hearty in his accustomed manner; and they each had also a little suggestion of their mother, that did not, however go so far as to put anybody in mind of their aunt foster.

nobody need have failed to see, at all events, after watching one or two of their glances at each other, that they were the very boys to play the meanest kind of practical jokes when they could do it safely. there is really no accounting for boys; and joe and fuz, therefore, might fairly be set down among the "unaccountables."

there was no sort of wonder that their easy-going mother and their joke-admiring father should be quite willing to have them spend three-quarters of the year at boarding-school, and as much as possible of the remainder somewhere else than "at home."

after mr. hart went out to his business that morning, and mrs. hart set herself about her usual duties, joe and fuz took with them into the street the whole grantley question.

"we'll have to go, fuz."

"of course. but we must have more to eat, and more fun, than we had last time."

"ford's coming, is he? the little prig! we'll roast him."

"so we will that young missionary."

"look out about him, joe, while he's at our house. he's coming right here, you know."

"don't you be afraid. his folks are old friends of mother's. we'll let up on him till we get him safe to grantley."

"then we'll fix him."

they had plots and plans enough to talk about; but neither they, nor any of the boys they named, nor any of the other boys they did not name, had the least idea of what the future really had in store for them. dab kinzer and ford foster, in particular, had no idea that the world contained such a place as grantley, or such a landlady as mrs. myers.

they had as little suspicion of them as they had had of finding annie foster in the sitting-room that day, when they walked in with their famous strings of fish.

ford kissed his sister, but that operation hardly checked him for an instant in his voluble narrative of the stirring events of his first morning on the bay. there was really little for anybody else to do but to listen, and it was worth hearing.

there was no sort of interruption on the part of the audience; but the moment ford paused for breath his mother said,—

"are you sure the black boy was not hurt, ford?"

"hurt, mother? why, he seems to be a kind of black-fish. the rest all know him, and they went right past my hook to his, all the while."

"dear me!" exclaimed mrs. foster: "i forgot. annie, this is ford's friend dabney kinzer, our neighbor."

"won't you shake hands with me, mr. kinzer?" said annie, with a malicious twinkle of fun in her merry blue eyes.

poor dabney! he had been in quite a "state of mind" for at least three minutes; but he would hardly have been his own mother's son if he had let himself be entirely "posed." up rose his long right arm, with the heavy string of fish at the end of it; and annie's fun broke out into a musical laugh, just as her brother exclaimed,—

"there now, i'd like to see the other boy of your size can do that. look here, dab, where'd you get your training?"

"i mustn't drop the fish, you see," began dab; but ford interrupted him with,—

'no, indeed! you've given me half i've got, as it is. annie, have you looked at the crabs? you ought to have seen dick lee, with a lot of 'em gripping in his hair."

"in his hair?"

"when he was down through the bottom of his boat. they'd have eaten him up if they'd had a chance. you see, he's no shell on him."

"exactly," said annie, as dab lowered his fish. "well, dabney, i wish you would thank your mother for me, for sending my trunk over. your sisters too. i've no doubt we shall be very neighborly."

it was wonderfully pleasant to be called by his first name by so very pretty a young lady, and yet it seemed to bring up something curious into dabney kinzer's throat.

"she considers me a mere boy, and she means i'd better take my fish right home," was the next thought that came to him; and he was right, to a fraction. so the great lump in his throat took a very wayward and boyish form, and came out as a reply, accompanied by a low bow,—

"i will, thank you. good-afternoon, mrs. foster. i'll see you to-night,

ford, about monday and the yacht. good-afternoon, annie."

and then he marched out with his fish.

"mother, did you hear him call me 'annie'?"

"yes; and i heard you call him 'dabney.'"

"but he's only a boy "—

"i don't care," exclaimed ford. "he's an odd fellow, but he's a good one. did you see how wonderfully strong he is in his arms? i couldn't lift these fish at arm's-length, to save my life."

he knew, for he had been trying his best with his own.

it was quite likely that dab kinzer's rowing, and all that sort of thing, had developed in him greater strength of muscle than even he himself was aware of; but for all that he went home with his very ears tingling.

"could she have thought me ill-bred or impertinent?" he muttered to himself.

thought? about him?

poor dab kinzer! annie foster had so much else to think of just then; for she was compelled to go over, for ford's benefit, the whole story of her tribulations at her uncle's, and the many rudenesses of joe hart and his brother fuz.

"they ought to be drowned," said ford indignantly.

"in ink," added annie. "just as they drowned my poor cuffs and collars."