A particularly large and inquisitive bee, buzzing unpleasantly near his head, caused him to shift his position slightly.
"Summer before us," he continued; "boating, fishing and all kinds of sport—it's the best time of the year."
He had closed his eyes, as if in contemplation of the glorious prospect before him, when the sound of a step arrested his attention.
"Hello, Dave Brandon!" exclaimed a cheery voice. "I thought I should find you here."
It was a boy of about sixteen who had stepped into view. He eyed the recumbent figure quizzically.
There was a striking difference between the appearance of the two boys, as the new-comer was lithe and his every movement denoted an active temperament.
"I say, Dave, were you born lazy, or did you acquire it by practice?" he inquired, good-naturedly.
David Brandon yawned prodigiously and stretched. "I don't know, Sam," he answered, with a twinkle in his eye; "but, at the present moment, I do feel most uncommonly like taking a nap."
"I don't doubt it," laughed the other; "but perhaps I have some news that will wake you up."
"Some news, eh?" echoed Dave, with provoking indifference. "Some news—perhaps that Professor Hopkins is going to have a summer school, and wants us to join."