company, and allowed none of his friends to visit the house. From morning
until night she pestered him and nagged at him, "all for his own good," she
said, until life at the Jordan home, roomy and comfortable as it was,
became a burden to the lad.

"It's too bad!" burst forth Frank as he crossed the garden, climbed a
fence, and made toward the river through a little woods that was a favorite
haunt of his. Reaching a fallen tree he drew from its side a splendid
fishing-pole with all the attachments that a lover of the rod and line
might envy. His eye grew brighter as he glanced fondly along the supple
staff with its neat joints of metal, but he continued his complaint: "When
she isn't scolding, she is lecturing me. I suppose if she ever hears of my
fishing outfit here, she'll be at me for a week about my awful
extravagance. Oh, dear!"

Frank had a good deal over which to grumble. His aunt certainly was a
"tyro." She was making his life very gloomy with her stern, unloving ways.
Frank had promised his parents, when they went away, that he would be
obedient in all respects to his aunt. He was a boy of his word, and he felt
that he had done exceedingly well so far, hard as the task had been. His
aunt was very unreasonable in some things, however, and he had been at the
point of rebellion several times.

"You'd think I was some kind of a beggar, to hear her talk," he grumbled to
himself. "Father sends plenty of pocket money, but the way Aunt Tib doles
it out to me makes a fellow sick. As to the stickpin--heigh ho! I won't
think about it at all. I've lots to be thankful for. I only care that
father gets well and strong again. As to myself, he's sure to decide soon
what school I will be sent away to. That means no Aunt Tib. I shall be
happy. Hello! What's wrong now?"