"Now we'll have a jolly time," said he. "Draw up that arm-chair, and
make yourself at home. If Xenophon, or Virgil, or any of those Greek
and Latin chaps call, we'll tell 'em we are transacting important
business and can't be disturbed. What do you say?"

"They won't be apt to call on me," said Harry. I haven't the
pleasure of knowing them."

"It isn't always a pleasure, I can assure you, Harry. Pass over the
corn-popper."




CHAPTER V.

A YOUNG F. F. B.

As the two boys sat in front of the fire, popping and eating the
corn, and chatting of one thing and another, their acquaintance
improved rapidly. Harry learned that Oscar's father was a Boston
merchant, in the Calcutta trade, with a counting-room on Long Wharf.
Oscar was a year older than himself, and the oldest child. He had a
sister of thirteen, named Florence, and a younger brother, Charlie,
now ten. They lived on Beacon Street, opposite the Common. Though
Harry had never lived in Boston, be knew that this was a fashionable
street, and he had no difficulty in inferring that Mr. Vincent was a
rich man. He felt what a wide gulf there was socially between
himself and Oscar; one the son of a very poor country farmer, the