things this
summer, Uncle Randolph," said Tom. His uncle had studied scientific
farming for years, but had never made any tremendous success of it in
fact his experiments usually cost him considerably more than they
brought in.

"Well--er--I am trying my hand this year on some Mexican melons
said to be very fine, Thomas," was the reply.

"Mexican melons?" said the fun-loving Tom, innocently. "That puts me
in mind when I was over to Albany last I saw a pumpkin in a restaurant
window eight feet high and at least ten feet across."

"Is it possible!" ejaculated Randolph Rover, gazing at his nephew
incredulously.

"Sure thing. The pumpkin looked to be good, too. They had a lot of
pumpkin pies set around it, just for an advertisement."

"Thomas, did you measure that pumpkin?"

"No; why should I?"

"Then how do you know it was eight feet high and ten feet across?"

"Why, Uncle Randolph, I didn't say the pumpkin was eight feet high and
ten feet across. I said I saw it in a restaurant window eight feet
high and ten feet across," and Tom drew down the corners of his mouth
soberly.

"Tom, that's the worst ever!" cried Sam.

"You ought to be made to walk home for that," added Dick.

"Thomas! Thomas! you are as bad as ever!" said Mr. Rover, with a sigh.
"But I might have been on my guard. I know there are no pumpkins of
that size."

"Uncle Randolph, you'll have to forgive me," said Tom, putting his
hand affectionately on his relative's shoulder. "I really couldn't
help it--I am just bubbling over to think that school days are over
and I won't have to do any studying for several months to come."

"I fancy we'll have to tie you down to keep you out of mischief."

"You won't have to tie me down if I go on a sea trip with dad."

"Haven't you had sea trips enough with being cast away in the middle
of the Pacific, and being wrecked in the Gulf of Mexico? It seems to
me every time you and the others leave home something serious happens
to you."

"True but we always come back right side up with care and all charges
paid," answered the fun-loving Rover airily.

They soon made a turn in the road which brought them in sight of the
big farmhouse, nestling comfortably in a group of stately trees. As
they turned into the lane their Aunt Martha came to the front piazza
and waved her hand. Down in the roadway stood Jack Ness; the hired
man, grinning broadly, and behind Mrs. Rover stood Alexander Pop, the
colored helper, his m