“Don’t you notice quite a change in Bob?” asked Mrs. Henderson of her husband the next day.  “He seems to have settled down, and he hasn’t played a joke in a long time.”

“No, he hasn’t.  But you know the proverb about a new broom sweeping clean.  Just now Bob’s mind is so full of the sea that he thinks of nothing else.  Wait a while.  If he gets away with Captain Spark without playing some sort of a trick before he goes I’ll be agreeably disappointed.”

“I think he will.  I’m so glad the captain came to pay us a visit when he did.  It was a lucky thing for Bob.”

“I think it was.  He was getting quite reckless in his pranks.”

The subject of this conversation was, of course, not aware of it.  The truth was that Bob was fairly holding himself in.  He saw many opportunities to play jokes—­more, in fact, than he had ever seen before.  It was a great temptation to indulge in pranks, but he reflected that if he got into any more trouble he might not be allowed to take the sea voyage.

“And I wouldn’t want that to happen for the world,” he said to himself.  “Still I know a couple of dandy jokes I could play before I go.  Maybe I might get Ted Neefus to do ’em, but I don’t believe he could do ’em as good as I can.”

Bob was pondering over the rather queer fact to him that old folks don’t care half as much for jokes as boys do, when his mother asked him to go on an errand for her.  This was to take a message to Mrs. Dodson, who lived in a large house on a hill just outside the village.  She was quite wealthy, and Mrs. Henderson used to do some fine embroidering for her.

Bob, who was always ready to oblige his mother, took the package of sewing and the note which went with it and started off.  On the way he passed the wagon of a certain old crusty farmer he knew.  The vehicle was in front of a house where the farmer had gone to sell some butter and eggs.  Dangling from the back of the wagon was a long rope, and it was a great temptation to Bob to take the rope and tie one of the rear wheels so that It would not revolve.  The farmer, coming out in a hurry, would not notice it, and would wonder what was the matter when he started to drive off.

“But I guess I’d better not,” thought Bob with a sigh.  “He’d be sure to tell dad, and then I’d be in more trouble.  I’ve got a pretty good reputation since the donation supper, and I don’t want to spoil it.”

Bob delivered the embroidery and note to Mrs. Dodson, and was on his way back home when he saw Susan Skipper, Mrs. Dodson’s hired girl, and Dent Freeman, the hired man of the place, washing the big front windows of the house—­that is, Dent was washing them, perched upon a step-ladder, for Susan was quite heavy and was afraid to trust herself very high in the air.  However, she was doing her share by handing up pails of warm water to Dent.

Now Dent and Susan, as Bob well knew, were what the country people call “sweet” on one another.  Susan was very fond of the hired man, and as for Dent, he thought there never had been a better cook than Susan.  They lost no chance of talking to each other, and as the window-cleaning operations afforded them a good opportunity, they were taking advantage of it.