"Breakfast's ready."

Almira smiled, but she was too much like her mother. There was nothing
at all about her to put Dabney in mind of Annie Foster, or of either of
his own sisters. Samantha, or Keziah, or Pamela could have been "made
over" into two Almiras, in every thing but height; and Dab made up his
mind at once that either of them could beat her at smiling,--not so
much, perhaps, as to mere quantity, but as to quality.

That was a breakfast which would have fully justified Ham Morris's
report, for it was well cooked and plentiful. The "johnnycake," in
particular, was abundant; and all the boys took to it kindly.

"Glad you like it," said Mrs. Myers. "Almira, that's one thing we
mustn't forget. I was always proud of my johnny cake. There's very few
know what to do with their corn-meal, after they've got it."

She did evidently, and the boys all said so except Dick Lee. He could do
full justice to his breakfast, indeed; but he was saying to himself all
the while,--

"I won'er 'f I'll ebber git used to dis yer. It's jes' awful, dis goin'
to de 'cad'my."





CHAPTER XXVII.