You see you have not yet got to the end of my accomplishments.

I shall be happy to act as your drill-master until some one among your number is competent to take my place.

I can previously give you some private lessons, if you desire it." "There's nothing I should like better, Mr.Morton," said Frank joyfully.
"Have you got a musket in the house, then?
We shall get along better with one." "There's one in the attic." "Very well; if you will get it, we can make a beginning now." Frank went in search of the musket; but in his haste tumbled down the attic stairs, losing his grasp of the musket, which fell down with a clatter.
Mrs.Frost, opening the door of her bedroom in alarm, saw Frank on his back with the musket lying across his chest.
"What's the matter ?" she asked, not a little startled.
Frank got up rubbing himself and looking rather foolish.
"Nothing, mother; only I was in a little too much of a hurry." "What are you going to do with that musket, Frank ?" "Mr.Morton is going to teach me the manual, that is all, mother." "I suppose the first position is horizontal," said his mother, with a smile.
"I don't like that position very well," returned Frank, with a laugh.

"I prefer the perpendicular." Under his friend's instructions, Frank progressed rapidly.

At the end of the third lesson, Mr.Morton said, "You are nearly as competent to give instructions now as I am.