“Tell Frank to send me Harper’s Weekly regularly.  Two or three times a week I should like to have a daily paper forwarded.  Every newspaper that finds its way into camp goes the rounds, and its contents are eagerly devoured.

“I will write you again very soon.  The letters I write and receive from home will be one of my principal sources of pleasure.  God bless you all, is the prayer of your affectionate husband and father, “Henry Frost.”

It is hardly necessary to say that this letter was read with eager interest.  That evening all the children, including little Charlie, were busy writing letters to the absent father.  I have not room to print them all, but as this was Charlie’s first epistolary effort, it may interest some of my youthful readers to see it.  The mistakes in spelling will be excused on the score of Charlie’s literary inexperience.  This is the way it commenced: 

“Deer farther:  I am sorry you hav to live in a log hous stuck up with mud.  I shud think the mud wood cum off on your close.  I am wel and so is Maggie.  Frank is agoin to make me a sled—­a real good one.  I shal cal it the egle.  I hope we shal soon hav sum sno.  It will be my berth day next week.  I shal be seven years old.  I hope you cum back soon.  Good nite. “from Charlie.”

Charlie was so proud of his letter that he insisted on having it enclosed in a separate envelope and mailed by itself—­a request which was complied with by his mother.

CHAPTER XIII.  MISCHIEF ON FOOT

As may be supposed, John Haynes was deeply incensed with Frank Frost for the manner in which he had foiled him in his attack upon Pomp.  He felt that in this whole matter he had appeared by no means to advantage.  After all his boasting, he had been defeated by a boy younger and smaller than himself.  The old grudge which he had against Frank for the success gained over him at school increased and added poignancy to his mortification.  He felt that he should never be satisfied until he had “come up” with Frank in some way.  The prospect of seeing him ejected from the farm was pleasant, but it was too far off.  John did not feel like waiting so long for the gratification of his revengeful feelings.  He resolved in the meantime to devise some method of injuring or annoying Frank.

He could not at once think of anything feasible.  Several schemes flitted across his mind, but all were open to some objection.  John did not care to attempt anything which would expose him, if discovered, to a legal punishment.  I am afraid this weighed more with him than the wrong or injustice of his schemes.

At last it occurred to him that Mr. Frost kept a couple of pigs.  To let them out secretly at night would be annoying to Frank, as they would probably stray quite a distance, and thus a tedious pursuit would be made necessary.  Perhaps they might never be found, in which case John felt that he should not grieve much.