I hasn't a word to say 'gin him or Mr.Foster, or dat ar' young mish'nayry." "Glorianna," said Bill doubtfully, "do you s'pose Dick did all dat writin' his own self ?" "Sho! Course he did! Don't I know his hand-writin'?
Ain't he my own blessed boy?
Guess he did, and I's goin' ober to show it to Mrs.Kinzer.
It'll do her good to hear from de 'cad'my." So it did; for Dick's letter to his mother, like the shorter one he sent to Ham Morris, was largely made up of complimentary remarks concerning Dabney Kinzer.
When Glorianna knocked at the kitchen door of the Morris mansion, however, it was opened by "the help;" and she might have lost her errand if Mrs.Kinzer had not happened to hear her voice.

It is just possible it was pitched somewhat higher than usual that morning.
"Glorianna?
Is that you?
Come right in.

We've some letters from the boys.

Something in them about Dick that you'll be glad to hear." "Sho! De boy! Course dey all had to say somet'ing 'bout him! I's jes' like to know wot 'tis, dough." In she went, but more than the Kinzer family were gathered in the sitting-room.
Mrs.Foster and Annie had brought Jenny Walters with them, and Ham was there, and all the rest; and they all sat still as mice while Glorianna listened to Dab's account, and Ford's, of the journey to Grantley, and the arrival, and the examination, and their boarding-house.
There was not a word of complaint anywhere; and it did seem as if Ham Morris was right when he said,-- "We've hit it this time, Mrs.Foster.I think I ought to write to Mr.
Hart, and thank him for his recommendation." "Just as you please, Hamilton," said Mrs.Kinzer; "but this is their very first week, you know." "Guess dey won't fool Dick much, anyhow," said the radiant Glorianna.
"But wot's dat 'bout de corn-shellin' ?" "That's all right," said Ham.

"Shelling corn won't hurt him.