The Professor had decided, after his trial of the spare bedchamber, that it would be very cold; so when the youngsters arrived at their room, they found it presided over by a very small and very hot stove that ticked and snapped like a hard-worked bit of machinery.
Much to their agreeable surprise, the two Alton boys now for the first time found themselves enjoying absolute freedom. In the first place, they had succeeded in getting into the attic, where they had found an old single-barrelled fowling-piece. They had asked the Professor if they could have it to "play with," and, upon his acquiescence, had purchased powder and shot at the hardware-store, and had gone out and bagged a rabbit and a hen in one afternoon. It was well known that the rabbit was tame, and the hen might not have been free from suspicion, as they had stalked her close to Farmer Belknap's chicken-yard back on the hill.
The Professor met the boys at breakfast and at supper. His mid-day meal was generally neglected; he carried it off with him to the college building in a tin box, like a school-boy.
At the end of the first week two rainy days came in succession. Billy and Todd were in the Professor's attic. That morning, for the first time, the Professor had taken the boys into his study. He knew so little about youths of this age in general that he was quite embarrassed. He thought they were very well behaved youngsters, because they apparently gave him no trouble, and the story of the hen and the rabbit, and several escapades of like character, had never reached his ears, but he felt it incumbent upon himself to make up for the lack of attention to his guests.
"Now, boys," he said, opening one of the cupboards, "I am going to show you some very wonderful things. This is an illuminated MS. of the fourteenth century, very rare and fine, done by the Franciscan monks, you see." The Professor read the Latin inscription with an air of triumph. "And this is an old cryptogram. This is an old copy of one of the early saint's lives in Hebrew, and here is another—both very old and very valuable."
It was not very interesting, but the boys listened politely. The college bell ringing at this moment, their uncle closed a most interesting description of how one of the valuable parchments had come into his possession, shut the cupboard, locked the door of the study, and left the boys to play in the attic.
"I say, Todd," remarked the elder Alton, "let's see if there's anything in here." He lifted the lid of an aged trunk and disclosed a lot of papers and old worn books that filled the garret with a musty odor. It was a collection of stuff that the Professor had designated as "rubbish," but yet had been loath to feed into the fire. There's not a professor's attic in the world that does not possess this same sort of a trunk, I verily believe. None of the books appeared very interesting, and a great many of the papers were very commonplace in appearance.
Todd picked up a tightly rolled bit of very aged vellum, and spreading it out, looked over an imaginary pair of spectacles at his brother, and began:
"This is a very old and rare specimen of a kickograph. You can see how beautiful it is."
As there was nothing apparent on the blank sheet of parchment, his brother burst into mock rhapsodies.