g time to come.

CHAPTER IX. THE LAST EVENING AT HOME

Three weeks passed quickly. October had already reached its middle
point. The glory of the Indian summer was close at hand. Too quickly
the days fled for the little family at the farm, for they knew that each
brought nearer the parting of which they could not bear to think.

Jacob Carter, who had been sent for to do the heavy work on the farm,
had arrived. He was a man of forty, stout and able to work, but had
enjoyed few opportunities of cultivating his mind. Though a faithful
laborer, he was destitute of the energy and ambition which might ere
this have placed him in charge of a farm of his own. In New England few
arrive at his age without achieving some position more desirable and
independent than that of farm laborer. However, he looked pleasant and
good-natured, and Mr. Frost accounted himself fortunate in securing his
services.

The harvest had been got in, and during the winter months there would
not be so much to do as before. Jacob, therefore, "hired out" for a
smaller compensation, to be increased when the spring work came in.

Frank had not been idle. He had accompanied his father about the farm,
and received as much practical instruction in the art of farming as
the time would admit. He was naturally a quick learner, and now felt
impelled by a double motive to prepare himself as well as possible to
assume his new responsibilities. His first motive was, of course, to
make up his father's loss to the family, as far as it was possible for
him to do so, but he was also desirous of showing Mrs. Roxana Mason and
other ill-boding prophets that they had underrated his abilities.

The time came when Mr. Frost felt that he must leave his family. He had
enlisted from preference in an old regiment, already in Virginia, some
members of which had gone from Rossville. A number of recruits were to
be forwarded to the camp on a certain day, and that day was now close at
hand.

Let me introduce the reader to the farmhouse on the last evening for
many months when they would be able to be together. They were all
assembled about the fireplace. Mr. Frost sat in an armchair, holding
Charlie in his lap--the privileged place of the youngest. Alice,
with the air of a young woman, sat demurely by her father's side on a
cricket, while Maggie stood beside him, with one hand resting on his
knee. Frank sat quietly beside his mother, as if already occupying the
place which