not be allowed to have one at The Firs, so you had better get rid of this one."
"Oh, I suppose I can leave Grit home," answered Dick, with a sigh, "Can I get you something to eat, Uncle Ezra?" he asked, trying to be hospitable.
"No, thank you, Nephew Richard. I never eat between meals, nor do I allow it at my house. Three times a day is enough to eat."
"Maybe you would like some lemonade; it's quite warm to-day." Dick was both hungry and thirsty.
"No, lemonade is bad for the liver, I have heard. You may get me some plain water, if you please."
"And I've got to live a year with him," mused Dick as he went out to get his uncle a drink. "Why, oh why, didn't some of my investments succeed?"
Dick spent a miserable evening with his uncle. Mr. Hamilton came home from the bank, whither he had gone after the ride, and greeted his brother-in-law.
"Well, I guess you'll have to take Dick back with you," said the millionaire, with an attempt at cheerfulness.
"I intend to, and when he comes back from living with me he'll be a different lad," said Mr. Larabee, grimly.
"I guess that's true enough," thought Dick.
He dreamed that night that he went to his
