“YES,” said Mrs. Dunn to her neighbour, Mrs. Sullivan, “we are expecting great things of Archie, and yet we sometimes hardly know what to think of the boy. He has the most remarkable ideas of things, and there seems to be absolutely no limit to his ambition. He has long since determined that he will some day be President, and he expects to enter politics the day he is twenty-one.” “Is that so, indeed,” said Mrs. Sullivan. “Well, we can never tell what is going to come of our boys. As I says to Dannie to-day, says I, ‘Dannie, you must do your best to be somebody and make something of yourself, for you and Jack bees all that I has to depend upon now.’ But Dannie pays no attention to my entreaties, and somehow it seems to me that since Mr. Sullivan died the boys are gettin’ worse and worse. It’s beyond me to control them, anyhow.” “Oh, take heart, Mrs. Sullivan,” said Mrs. Dunn, “our boys will all turn out well in the end, and all we can do is to bring them up in the best way we know, and trust to them to take care of themselves after they leave home. Now Dannie is certainly an industrious lad. I hear him pounding nails all day long in the back yard, and he made a good job of shingling the woodshed the other day. He seems made to be a carpenter.” “Yes, I think so myself,” said the Widow Sullivan. “The whole lot of them is out by the railroad now, building a hut. They’ve organised a ‘Hut Club’ to-day, and never a lick of work have I had out of them boys since mornin’. They’ve always got something going on, and when I want a bit of water from the well, or a little wood from the shed, they’re never around.” “Yes, but boys will be boys, Mrs. Sullivan, and we’d better keep them contented at home as long as we can. They’ll be leaving us soon enough. It seems that no boys are content to stay in town any longer; they’re all anxious to be off to the city.” “That’s true, that’s true, Mrs. Dunn,” said Mrs. Sullivan. “I must be going now. I’m much obliged for the rain-water, and whenever you want a bit of milk call over the fence, and I’ll bring it to you with pleasure. It’s a good neighbour you are, Mrs. Dunn.” And Mrs. Sullivan went slowly around the house and out at the front gate, while good Mrs. Dunn returned to her ironing, a few clothes having to be ready for Sunday.