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“Yes, sir. That is, I like to study some things. And, of course, I want to learn. Mr. Senter said he thought there wouldn’t be any trouble about my getting into the junior class here, sir. I’ve only missed about seven weeks.”

“I see.” Mr. Dennison thoughtfully folded the letters in his hands, observing Joe the while. What he saw prepossessed him in the boy’s favour. Joe was large for his age, sturdy without being heavy, and had the healthful colouring and clear eyes of a youth who had divided his time fairly between indoors and out. You wouldn’t have called him handsome, perhaps, for his nose wasn’t at all classic, being rather of the tip-tilted variety, and his chin was a bit too square to meet the Greek standard of beauty. Perhaps it was the chin that had suggested spunk to Aunt Sarah. Anyhow, it suggested it to Mr. Dennison. In fact, the whole face spoke of eager courage, and the gray eyes looked out with a level directness that proclaimed honesty. For the rest, he had light-brown hair, so light that one hesitated at calling it brown, but had to for want of a better description, a forehead that matched the chin in breadth and gave the face a square look, and a mouth that, no matter how serious the rest of the countenance was, seemed on the point of breaking into a smile. On the whole, summed up the principal, a healthy, honest, capable appearing boy, and one likely to be heard from.