"Very well," he said, lightly.

Then he finished his breakfast in silence and strolled out.

He walked around the yard for five or ten minutes, whistling shrilly;
took a look in the barn at Prince and then set off to the village. It
was almost deserted, the boys being at school--all but a few loaferish
fellows, with whom Roswell did not care to associate.

About ten o'clock he returned home, got a book and read until
dinner-time.

Somehow he did not have much of an appetite, and after dinner he took
his fishing tackle and went off to the creek.

When he returned at dusk, he had a string of perch.

"Where's my fish-knife, Jennie?" he asked, as he laid the fish on the
bench in the wash-house.

"Jennie will clean the fish, Roswell," called out his mother. "Catching
fish is play; cleaning them is work."

"Pshaw!" said Roswell, impatiently.

He was rather proud of his ability to prepare fish for the pan.

At supper Mr. Hofford asked him how he was enjoying himself, and Roswell
answered that he was doing very well. After supper, when the table was
cleared, he got out a lot of traps and set to work on an electrical