The Rover Boys at School | Page 2

farm, or study, and, above all things, keep
quiet, so that his scientific investigations are not disturbed. Why doesn't
he let us go out riding, or boating on the river, or down to the village to
play baseball with the rest of the fellows? A real live American boy
can't be still the time, and he ought to know it," and, with a decided
shake of his curly head, Tom Rover took a baseball from his pocket and
began to throw it up against the side of the farmhouse, catching it each
time as it came down.
Tom had thrown the ball up just four times when a pair of blinds to an
upper window flew open with a crash, and the head of a stern-looking
elderly gentleman appeared. The gentleman had gray hair, very much
tumbled, and wore big spectacles.
"Hi! hi! boys, what does this mean?" came in a high-pitched voice.
"What are you hammering on the house for, when I am just in the midst
of a deep problem concerning the rotation of crops on a hillside with
northern exposure?"

"Excuse me, Uncle Randolph, I didn't think to disturb you," answered
Tom meekly. "I'll put the ball away."
"You never stop to think, Thomas. Give me that ball."
"Oh, let me keep it, Uncle Randolph! I won't throw it against the house
again, honor bright."
"You'll forget that promise in ten minutes, Thomas; I know you well.
Throw the ball up," and Mr. Randolph Rover held out hands.
"All right, then; here you go," answered Tom, somewhat put out to thus
lose a ball which had cost him his week's spending, money; and he sent
the sphere flying upward at a smart speed. Mr. Rover made a clutch for
it, but the ball slipped through his hands and landed plump on his nose.
"Oh!" he cried, and disappeared from sight, but reappeared a moment
later, to shake his fist at Tom.
"You young rascal! You did that on purpose!" he spluttered, and
brought forth his handkerchief, for his nose had begun to bleed. "Was
anyone ever tormented so by three boys?"
"Now you are in for it again, Tom," whispered Sam.
"I didn't mean to hit you, Uncle Randolph. Why didn't you catch it on
the fly?"
"On the fly?" repeated the uncle. "Do you suppose I am accustomed to
catching cannon balls?"
"Didn't you ever play baseball?"
"Never. I spent my time in some useful study." The elderly gentleman
continued to keep his handkerchief to his nose, and adjusted his
glasses.
"Thank fortune, you are all going to go to boarding school next week,
and we will once more have a little peace and quietness around Valley

Brook!"
"Where are we to go, Uncle Randolph?" asked Sam.
"You I will learn that Monday morning, when you start off."
"It wouldn't hurt to tell us now," grumbled Tom.
"You must learn to be patient, Thomas. My one hope is that life at
boarding school makes a real man of you."
"Of course we are all to go together?"
"Yes, you are to go together, although I can get along with Richard
very well, he is so much more quiet and studious than you or Samuel."
"I reckon he takes after you, Uncle Randolph."
"If so, he might do worse. By the way, what were both of you doing
here?"
"Nothing," came from Sam.
"We haven't anything to do. This farm is the slowest place on earth,"
added Tom.
"Why do you not study the scientific and agricultural works that I
mentioned to you? See what I have done for scientific farming."
"I don't want to be a farmer," said Tom. "I'd rather be a sailor."
"A sailor!" gasped Randolph Rover. "0f all things! Why, a sailor is the
merest nobody on earth!"
"I guess you mean on the sea, uncle," said Sam with a grin.
"Don't joke me, Samuel. Yes, Thomas -- the calling of a sailor amounts
to absolutely nothing. Scientific farming is the thing! Nothing more
noble on the face of the earth than to till the soil."

"I never saw you behind a plow, Uncle Randolph," answered Tom,
with a twinkle in his blue eyes. "Besides, I heard you say that the farm
ran behind last year."
"Tut, tut, boy! You know nothing about it. I made a slight
miscalculation in crops, that was all. But this year we shall do better."
"You lost money year before last, too," commented Sam.
"Who told you that?"
"Mr. Woddie, the storekeeper at the Corners."
"Mr. Woddie may understand storekeeping, but he knows nothing of
farming, scientific or otherwise. I spent several thousands of dollars in
experimenting, but the money was not lost. We shall soon have grand
results. I shall astonish the whole of New, York, State at the