Ned Franks was to find that other things in his new home required setting to rights as well as his loft, and that there are spots and stains harder to rub out than those on his walls and floor.
"Why don't you keep that garden in trimmer order?" asked the sailor, as he descended the ladder, followed by Dan. "You might grow enough of potatoes and cabbages in yon slip to supply your mother half the year."
"I've not a minute's time," answered Dan; "I look after Sir Lacy Barton's cows."
"Lacy Barton!" repeated Ned. "Why that's the name of one of our middies."
"Sir Lacy has a son in the 'Queen' as I've heard."
"What are you saying about Sir Lacy?" asked Bessy Peele, catching the sound of the name, as her brother and Dan re-entered the kitchen.
"That he has a son aboard my old vessel the 'Queen.'"
"That's a piece of luck for us!" cried Bessy, pausing in her occupation of cutting rashers from a fine large piece of bacon. "He's our landlord, is Sir Lacy Barton, and he's thinking of pulling down our cottage to build the new school in its place, and I'm mighty anxious to be in his favour. 'Tis a lucky chance that you've come, and can tell him all about his son."
"That depends on what I've to tell," answered Ned, with a smile; "in some cases, it's 'least said soonest mended.' I hope that none of the family will come to question me about young Mr. Barton—" and the frank face of the sailor expressed more than his words, as he remembered the doings of the most worthless youth on board of the man-of-war.
"Well, if you was asked, you'd say something pleasant I hope," observed Bessy.