"He grossly insulted me at the town meeting to-day, and I sha'n't soon forget it. It isn't for his interest to insult a man who has the power to annoy him that I possess."

"Haven't you got a mortgage on his farm?"

"Yes, and at a proper time I shall remind him of it. But to come back to your own affairs. What was the prize given to young Frost?"

"A blue-and-gold copy of Whittier's Poems, in two volumes."

"Very well. The next time I go to Boston, I will buy you the same thing bound in calf. I don't intend that you shall suffer by your teacher's injustice."

"It wasn't so much the prize that I cared for," said John, who felt like making the most of his father's favorable mood, "but you know you promised me twenty-five dollars if I gained it."

"And as you have been defrauded of it, I will give you thirty instead," said the squire promptly.

John's eyes sparkled with delight. "Oh, thank you, sir!" he said. "I wouldn't change places with Frank Frost now for all his prize."