He poured into the saucepan as he spoke a quantity of the Indian corn
grains, coarsely broken, and covering it with water, put it on the fire.
It was soon swelled to twice its former bulk, and looked and smelt very
good. With the addition of a little butter and salt, it made such a
"mess of hominy," as Mr. Jones called it, that few persons would not
have relished. Tom certainly did, as he proved at supper, when the
good-natured wagoner invited all to try it.

The meal was a merry one, notwithstanding the fatigue they had all
experienced during the hard travel of that day--the merrier because of
their anticipated arrival on the morrow at their future home. They all
talked of it, wondering where they should build their house--by the
river (for Uncle John had told them there was one near) or by the wood?
Tom wished for the first, as he thought what fine fishing he might have
at any hour; but Annie preferred the shade of the trees.

"Oh! father," cried she, "I hope there will be as many flowers as I saw
to-day on the road. Such beautiful Rhododendrons! a whole hill covered
with them, all in blossom! And did you see the yellow butterflies?
Mother and I first noticed them when they were resting on a green bank,
and we thought they were primroses until they rose and fluttered off."

"I tell you what, Annie," said Tom, "you'll have to keep a good look-out
after your chickens. There are plenty of hawks about here. I saw one
this afternoon pounce down on a squirrel, and he was carrying it off,
when I shouted with all my might, and he let it drop."

"Oh, Tom! was it hurt?"