"Well, folks call it Hardscrabble," said Mr. Huxter, with a laugh.
"Is it far away?"
"We'll get there to-night if nothing happens," said Mr. Huxter.
John did not know whether to conclude that Hardscrabble was, or was not, the real name of the town, but did not like to press the inquiry. He never remembered to have heard of a town bearing that name. However, he would know by evening at any rate. He could not help feeling some curiosity as to Mr. Huxter's home; but neither that gentleman's appearance nor description of it led him to form a very high idea of its sumptuousness.
The breakfast was a substantial one, and Mr. Huxter did justice to it. Indeed, he was seldom wanting in a good appetite, especially when the repast was an inviting one.
"I suppose I shan't see Ben before I go?" said he, leaning back in his chair, and picking his teeth with a fork.
"I am afraid not," said Mrs. Oakley. "Ben got home rather late last night, and I suppose the poor boy is tired this morning. I think I had better not disturb him."
"Don't disturb him on my account," said his uncle, who did not seem much disappointed by Ben's absence. "He'd better have his sleep out. But, sister Jane, if I were you I wouldn't let him stay out so late in the evening."
"You must remember, Ephraim, he's a young gentleman now. It won't do to keep him in leading-strings, just as if he were a boy."
"I'd keep him in check if he were my boy," thought Mr. Huxter; but he saw that it would not be best to say so.