answer, but drew what remained of the schooner to the
shore, and, taking it under his arm, started for his shop, saying,

"Now, that's a nice cousin for a fellow to have. I'll do my best to
treat him respectfully while he stays, but I shall not be sorry when
the time comes to bid him good-by."

And that time was not far distant. James often complained to his
mother that Frank was a "low-minded, mean fellow," and urged an
immediate departure. His mother always yielded to his requests, or
rather _demands_, no matter how unreasonable they might be; and they
had scarcely made a visit of a week, when they announced their
intention of leaving Lawrence by the "next boat."

On the day previous to their departure, Mrs. Nelson had occasion to
send Frank to the village for some groceries, and, as a favorable wind
was blowing, he decided to go in his boat. But, before starting, he
managed to slip away from James long enough to write a few lines to
Archie, urging him to come immediately.

Frank intended to start off without James's knowledge; but the uneasy
fellow was always on the look-out, and, seeing his cousin going
rapidly down the walk, with a basket on each arm, and his dog--which,
like his master, had not much affection for James--he shouted,

"Hallo, old beeswax, where are you bound for?"

"For the village," answered Frank.

"Are you going to take the tow-path?"

"The tow-path! I don't know what you mean."

"Are you going to ride shanks' horses?"

"I don't understand that, either."

"Oh, you are a bass-wood man, indeed," said James, with a taunting
laugh. "Are you going to _walk_? Do you think you can comprehend me
now?"

"Yes," answered Frank, "I can understand you when you talk English.
No, I am not going to walk."

"Then I'll go with you, if you will leave that dog at home."

"I don't see what objections you can have to his company. He always
goes with me."

"I suppose you think more of him than you do of your relations; but
I'm going with you, at any rate."

And he quickened his pace to overtake Frank.

While his cousin was hoisting the sails, James deliberately seated
himself in the stern of the boat, and took hold of the tiller.

"Do you understand managing a sail-boat?" inquired Frank, as he stood
ready to cast off the painter.

"If any one else had asked me that question," answered James, with an
air of injured dignity, "I should have considered it an insult. Of
course I _do_."

"All righ