"But you don't like Lucette very well," said Mr. Tower. "After you've been
a man six months, you won't eat cake for breakfast; or much of it at any
time."
"Lucette is never coming back?" marvelled Malcolm.
"Never!" said Mr. Tower conclusively.
"How soon are we going home?" demanded James.
"Never!" replied Mr. Tower. "You are going to live where you were last
night, after this."
"Where is Mamma?" cried Malcolm.
"Gone for the summer," explained Mr. Tower.
"I know. She always goes," said James. "But she took us before. I just
hate it. I like this better. We make no difference to her anyway. Let her
go!"
"Ain't we rich boys any more?" inquired Malcolm.
"I don't know," said Mr. Tower. "That is your father's business. I think
you have as much money as ever, but from now on, you are going to live
like men."
"We won't live like men!" cried both boys.
"Now look here," said Mr. Tower kindly, "you may take my word for it that
a big boy almost ten years old, and another nearly his age, who can barely
read, who can't throw straight, who can't swim, or row, or walk a mile
without puffing like an engine, who begins to sweat over lifting a few
stones, is a mighty poor specimen.
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