“No; they say he only came to Brookville late last evening.”
“Where is he going to board?”
“At Deacon Slocum’s, so father says. The deacon is his uncle.”
“I hope he isn’t like his uncle, then,” said Henry Frye. “The deacon always looks as stiff as a fence rail.”
“I wish we were going to have Mr. Fairbanks here again this winter. He’s a regular, tiptop teacher.”
“So he is,” said Henry.
“Mr. Taylor says it’s the deacon’s doing, getting his nephew appointed.”
“Of course it was. Mr. Fairbanks was willing to teach. I wish we could have had him. He used to go out at recess, and play ball with us sometimes.”
“Could he play well?” asked Julius.
“I bet he could. Do you see that tree over there?”