answered Tom. "It may be that something got broke on the way and will have to be mended," he added, anxiously.
"Well, we didn't break anything, Tom, take my word on that. If any thing's broke the railroad company done it."
The boys were soon seated in the carriage and Mr. Sanderson took up the reins. As my old readers know, the farmer was proud of his horses and he had good reason to be, for they started off in fine style, and presently were passing everything on that long and somewhat dusty road.
"How is Miss Minnie?" asked Tom, on the way.
"Fust rate, Tom. She went drivin' yesterday with that young feller from Brill that sprouts poetry."
"Oh, then Songbird has really arrived!" cried Tom.
"He has." Mr. Sanderson looked serious for a moment. "Say, is he any good—or is he all—well, all poetry?"
"Songbird is one of the best and smartest boys in the college, Mr. Sanderson," said Dick, bound to put in a good word for their chum. "He likes to make up verses, but that isn't all he can do. Some day he'll be a good business man."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," answered the
