“Oh, go on with your chauffeur,” said Smith. “We’ve got to hear about him, I suppose, so let’s get through with it. I’ve got something I want to say, but no one ever has a chance when Ned is around. He even talks in his sleep. You wind him up and――――” “Keep still there, you one of a million varieties. I’m doing this. Where was I when you broke in with your drivel?” asked Ned. “You were giving us a long-drawn-out tale of your new chauffeur,” said Walter. “Probably all you wanted was to let us know that you had a car. What kind is it?” “The kind that little Alexander and little Moses had in the bulrushes,” suggested Hodge. “The kind that mother used to make.” “This applicant for the proud position of chauffeur in my ancestral domicile――――” “Be-a-u-ti-ful language,” drawled Smith. “My, I wish I could talk that way.” “This applicant said, in response to my father’s question,” continued Ned unabashed, “that he had been five years in his last place. ‘Fine record,’ said my pater, much delighted. ‘Why did you leave?’ he then asked the chap.” “Ah, I know the answer to that,” said Hodge. “That came over in the Mayflower. That was told to J. Smith by Pocahontas.” “What was the answer. I never heard it,” said Walter. “Why, the fellow left his last place because he was pardoned out or his term had expired, I forget which,” groaned Hodge. CHAPTER XX A CHANGE IN WALTER Dan had not taken any part in the bantering of the boys, but he none the less enjoyed their light and easy way of looking at life. It was all very different from his own early experiences. Since the death of his father life had been a hard struggle. Every penny had to be counted with care and the work on the farm was exacting. Early and late he had toiled, though he never had thought of complaining. Tom and his mother were laboring as hard as he. Indeed, most of his neighbors knew no more than he did of the lighter side of life. As the new boy listened to the conversation, he had enjoyed it all, though it was difficult for him to understand how it was possible for his friends to throw aside apparently all feeling of responsibility. Someone must be working, and working hard too, to provide the means by which all the advantages which were given them were to be had. And yet no one seemed to be thinking of that nor of any responsibility that came with such privileges. Although Dan was happy in his quiet way, he was still at a loss to understand his friends. Their home training had been different from his, their lives had been easy, plenty of money had been given them, even their very clothing had an air which Dan now realized made his own appear in a light of which he had never once thought. As far as Rodman was concerned, he had always felt that he appeared as well as any of the country boys――that is, if he ever thought of such things at all.