“Tom hit me with his ball.  It is all right now, although it did bleed some.”

“The bad boy!  But it is just like him.  Sarah has given notice that she will leave at the end of her month.  She says she can’t stand the pranks Tom and Sam play on her.”

“She need not go —­ for the boys are going to boarding school, you know.”

“She says you promised to send them off before.”

“Well, they shall go this time, rest assured of that.  I cannot stand their racing up and down stairs, and their noise, any longer.  They go Monday morning.”

“Better send them off tomorrow.”

“Well — er —­ that is rather sudden.”

“Sarah’s month is up Friday.  She will surely go unless the boys are out of the house.  And she is the best cook I have ever had.”

“Excepting when she burnt the custard pies,” put in Tom.

“And when she salted the rice pudding!” added Sam.

“Silence, both of you.  Randolph, do send them off.”

“Very well, I will.  Boys, you must go away from the house for an hour or two.”

“Can we go fishing or swimming?” asked Tom.

“No, I don’t want you to go near the river, you may get drowned.”

“We can both swim,” ventured Sam.

“Never mind —­ it is not safe —­ and your poor father left you in my, care.”

“Can we go down to the village?”

“No, you might get into bad company there.”

“Then where shall we go?” came from both boys simultaneously.

Randolph Rover scratched his head in perplexity.  He had never had any children of his own, and to manage his brother’s offspring was clearly beyond him.  “You might go down to the cornfield, and study the formation of the ears -”

“Send them blackberrying,” suggested Mrs. Rover.  “We want the berries for pies tomorrow, and it will give them something to do.”

“Very well; boys, you may go blackberrying.  And mind you keep out of mischief.”

“We’ll mind,” answered Tom.  “But you might let me have that ball.”

“I will give it to the morning,” answered Randolph Rover, and turned away from the window with his wife.

As soon as they were out of sight, Tom threw up both, hands in mock tragedy, “Alack, Horatio, this excitement killeth me!” he cried in a stage whisper.  “Sent blackberrying to keep us out of mischief!  Sam, what are we coming to?”

“Well, it’s better than moping around doing nothing.  For my part, I am glad we are to go to boarding school, and the sooner the better.  But I would like to know where to?”

“If only we were going to a military academy!”

“Hurrah!  Just the thing!  But no such luck.  Get the berry baskets and let us be off.  By the way, where is Dick?”

“Gone to the village for the mail.  There he, comes down the road now,” and Tom pointed to a distant path back of the meadows.