folks will feel anxious about you, if they don't hear from you soon.
You 'd better write a letter to them this morning, before you do
anything else, and then it will be out of the way. I shall either go
or send over to the post-office to-day, and the letter will start for
Boston to-morrow morning, and get there the next day."

"O dear, I hate to write," said Oscar. "Why can't you write to mother,
aunt, and tell her how I am?"

"No, no," said Mr. Preston, "that won't do. You promised your mother
that you would write yourself, and she 'll expect to hear from you, and
not from somebody else. Your aunt can write, if she chooses, but you
must write too. I 'll give you a pen and some paper and ink after
breakfast, and you can write just a much as you please."

"I guess it won't be much--I don't know how to write a letter," replied
Oscar.

"A boy of your age not know how to write a letter--and been all your
lifetime to such grand schools as they have in Boston, too! I don't
believe that," said Mr. Preston, shaking his head.

"I shall have to go and see the Shanghae Rooster," said Oscar, looking
at Jerry very knowingly.

Jerry laughed at this allusion, but the others did not appear to
understand its meaning. It was evident that they were innocent of all
knowledge of the mysterious letter; and as Jerry wished them to remain
so, he adroitly turned the remark by replying:

"No you won't--father has got plenty of steel pens."

After breakfast, Mr. Preston told Oscar to follow him. They went up
stairs, and Mr. P. took a key from his pocket, and unlocked the door of
what was known by the name of "the private room." It was a very small
apartment, and was originally designed for a closet or store-room; but
Mr. Preston now used it as a sort of office. Here he kept his business
papers, and here he did what little writing he had to do. There was
one window in the room, which looked out upon the garden in the rear of
the house. The furniture consisted of a chair, a small portable desk,
placed upon a table, an old map of the State of Maine, a dictionary,
almanac, and several other odd volumes and pamphlets.

"There," said Mr. Preston, "you may sit right down to my desk, and
write as long as you please, if you won't disturb my papers. There are
paper, ink, pens, and wafers--you can use what you want. When you get
done, lock the door, and give the key to your aunt."

Oscar found there was no backing out from a letter