"A cavalry officer has a great deal to do, I can tell you, my fine fellow, besides riding," said David.
"O well; I don't want to have anything else to do," said Bob. "I'd cut school; it's a bore."
"But you can't ride always. What will be the good of your riding when you are sick, or get old?"
"O then I'll die," said Bob contentedly.
"Let it stand, Davy," said Norton. "Write him down, with a horse and a saddle for his capital and riding his business. Who's next? Hatty Delaplaine! What will you have?"
Hatty, a pale, freckled girl, with twinkling gray eyes, was ready with her answer.
"I'd like to have Stewart's store, all to myself, and a dressmaker."
"The dressmaker all to yourself too, I suppose. Girls are the queerest things!" said Norton.
"Not a bit queerer than boys," spoke up Judy.
"Well,—see if the present game does not prove them so," said Norton. "What'll you do with Stewart's and a dressmaker, Hatty Delaplaine?"