CHAPTER XIII GOLDY LOCKS After the last excitement peace descended upon Plumfield, and reigned unbroken for several weeks. For the elder boys felt that the loss of Nan and Rob lay at their door, and all became so paternal in their care that they were rather wearing. While the little ones listened to Nan's recital of her perils so many times, that they regarded being lost as the greatest ill humanity was heir to, and hardly dared to put their little noses outside the great gate, last night should suddenly descend upon them, and ghostly black cows come looming through the dusk. It is too good to last, said Mrs. Joe, for years of boy culture had taught her that such lulls were usually followed by outbreaks of some sort. And when less wise women would have thought that the boys had become confirmed saints, she prepared herself for a sudden eruption of the domestic volcano. One cause of this welcome calm was a visit from Little Bess, whose parents lent her for a week while they were away with Grandpa Lawrence, who was poorly. The boys regarded Goldy Locks as a mixture of child, angel, and fairy, for she was a lovely little creature, and the golden hair which she inherited from her blonde mama enveloped her like a shining veil. Behind which she smiled upon her worshippers when gracious and hid herself when offended. Her father would not have it cut and it hung below her waist so soft and fine and bright that Demi insisted that it was silk spun from a cocoon. Everyone praised the little princess, but it did not seem to do her harm, only to teach her that her presence brought sunshine, her smiles made answering smiles on other faces, and her baby griefs filled every heart with tenderness sympathy. Unconsciously she did her young subjects more good than many a real sovereign, for her rule was very gentle and her power was felt rather than seen. Her natural refinement made her dainty in all things, and had a good effect upon the careless lads about her. She would let no one touch her roughly or with unclean hands, and more soap was used during her visits than at any other time, because the boys considered it the highest honor to be allowed to carry her highness, and the deepest disgrace to be repulsed with a disdainful command. Do away, dirty boy! Lower voices displeased her and quarreling frightened her, so gentler tones came into the boyish voices as they addressed her, and squabbles were promptly suppressed in her presence by lookers on if the principles could not restrain themselves.  They begged to be allowed to draw her carriage, bear her berry basket, or pass her plate at table. No service was too humble, and Tommy and Ned came to blows before they could decide which should have the honor of blacking her little boots. Nan was especially benefited by a weak in the society of a well-bred lady, though such a very small one. For Bess would look at her with a mixture of wonder and alarm in her great blue eyes when the hoidon screamed and romped, and she shrunk from her as if she thought her a sort of wild animal. Worm-hearted Nan felt this very much. She said at first, Poo, I don't care. But she did care, and was so hurt when Bess said, I love my Tuz and Bess, Tuz she is twight.  In that general refuge for perturbed spirits she found comfort and good counsel from some source or other. Perhaps the swallows from their mud-built nests overhead twitted her a little lecture on the beauty of gentleness. However that might have been she came out quite subdued, and carefully searched the orchard for a certain kind of early apple that Bess liked because it was sweet and small and rosy. Armed with this peace offering she approached the little princess and humbly presented it. To her great joy it was graciously accepted, and when Daisy gave Nan a forgiving kiss, Bess did likewise as if she felt that she had been too severe and desired to apologize. After this they played pleasantly together and Nan enjoyed the royal favor for days. To be sure she felt a little like a wild bird in a pretty cage at first, and occasionally had to slip out to stretch her wings in a long flight, or to sing at the top of her voice where neither would disturb the plump turtle dove Daisy nor the dainty golden canary Bess. But it did her good. For seeing how everyone loved the little princess for her small graces and virtues she began to imitate her, because Nan wanted much love and tried hard to win it. Not a boy in the house, but felt the pretty child's influence, and was improved by it without exactly knowing how or why. For babies can work miracles in the hearts that love them. Poor Billy found infinite satisfaction in staring at her, and though she did not like it she permitted without a frown. After she had been made to understand that he was not quite like the others, and on that account must be more kindly treated. Dick and Dolly overwhelmed her with willow whistles, the only thing they knew how to make, and she accepted but never used them.  Jack she did not like, because he was afflicted with warts and had a harsh voice. Stuffy displeased her because he did not eat tidily, and George tried hard not to gobble that he might not discuss the dainty little lady opposite. Ned was banished from court in utter disgrace when he was discovered tormenting some unhappy field mice. Goldilocks could never forget the sad spectacle, and retired behind her veil when he approached, waving him away with an imperious little hand, and crying in a tone of mingled grief and anger. No, I tarn't love him.  Daisy promptly abdicated when best came, and took the humble post of Chief Cook while Nan was first made of honour. Email was Chancellor of the Exchequer, and spent the public money lavishly in getting up spectacles that cost whole nine pence's. Franz was Prime Minister, and directed her affairs of state, planned royal progressives through the kingdom, and kept foreign powers in order. Demi was her philosopher, and fared much better than such gentlemen usually do among crowned heads. Dan was her standing army, and defended her territories gallantly. Tommy was court fool, and that attuned full rizio to this innocent little merry. Uncle Fritz and Aunt Joe enjoyed this peaceful episode, and looked on at the pretty play in which the young folk unconsciously imitated their elders, without adding the tragedy that is so apt to spoil the dramas acted on the larger stage. They teach us quite as much as we teach them, said Mr. Bear. Bless the dears! They never guess how many hints they give us as to the best way of managing them, answered Mrs. Joe. I think you are right about the good effect of having girls among the boys. Nan has stirred up Daisy, and best is teaching the little bears how to behave better than we can. If this reformation goes on as it has begun, I shall soon feel like Dr. Blimber with his model young gentleman, said Professor Laffing. As he saw Tommy not only remove his own hat, but knock off Ned's also, as they entered the hall where the Princess was taking a ride on the rocking horse, attended by Rob and Teddy as stride of chairs, and playing gallant knights to the best of their ability. You will never be a Blimber Fritz, you couldn't do it if you tried, and our boys will never submit to the forcing process of that famous hotbed. No fear that they will be too elegant. American boys like Liberty too well. But good manners they cannot fail to have, if we give them the kindly spirit that shines through the simplest demeanor, making it courteous and cordial like yours, my dear old boy. Tut, tut, we will not compliment, for if I begin you will run away. And I have a wish to enjoy this happy half hour to the end. Yet Mr. Bear looked pleased with the compliment, for it was true. And Mrs. Joe felt that she had received the best her husband could give her, by saying that he found his truest rest and happiness in her society. To return to the children, I have just had another proof of Goldilocks's good influence, said Mrs. Joe, drawing her chair nearer the sofa, where the Professor lay resting after a long day's work in his various gardens. Nan hates sewing, but for love of Bess has been toiling half the afternoon over a remarkable bag in which to present a dozen of our love apples to her idol when she goes. I praised her for it, and she said in her quick way, I like to sew for other people.  I took the hint, and shall give her some little shirts and aprons for Mrs. Carney's children. She is so generous she will sew her finger sore for them, and I shall not have to make a task of it. But needlework is not a fashionable accomplishment, my dear. Sorry for it, my girls shall learn all I can teach them about it, even if they give up the Latin, algebra, and half a dozenologies, it is considered necessary for girls to muddle their poor brains over nowadays. Amy means to make Bess an accomplished woman, but the dearest might of a forefinger has little pricks on it already, and her mother has several specimens of needlework which she values more than the clay bird without a bill. That filled Lori with such pride when Bess made it. I also have proof of the Princess's power, said Mrs. Bear, after he had watched Mrs. Joe sew on a button, with an air of scorn for the whole system of fashionable education. Jack is so unwilling to be classed with stuffy and ned, as distasteful to Bess, that he came to me a little while ago, and asked me to touch his warts with caustic. I have often proposed it, and he never would consent, but now he bored the smart manfully, and consoles his present discomfort by hopes of future favor, when he can show her for studious ladyship a smooth hand. Mrs. Bear laughed at the story, and just then stuffy came in to ask if he might give golly-lock some of the bonbons his mother had sent him. She is not allowed to eat sweeties, but if you like to give her the pretty box with the pink sugar rows in it, she would like it very much, said Mrs. Joe, unwilling to spoil this unusual piece of self-denial, for the fat boy seldom offered to share his sugar plums. Won't she eat it? I shouldn't like to make her sick, said stuffy, eyeing the delicate sweet meat lovingly, yet putting it into the box. Oh no, she won't touch it, if I tell her it is to look at not to eat. She will keep it for weeks and never think of tasting it. Can you do as much? I should hope so. I'm ever so much older than she is, cried stuffy indignantly. Well, suppose we try. Here, put your bonbons in this bag, and see how long you can keep them. Let me count two hearts, four red fishes, three barley sugar horses, nine almonds, and a dozen chocolate drops. Do you agree to that, asked Sly Mrs. Joe, popping the sweeties into her little spool bag. Yes, said stuffy with a sigh, and pocketing the forbidden fruit he went away to give best the present, that one a smile from her and permission to escort her round the garden. Poor stuffy's heart has really got the better of his stomach at last, and his efforts will be much encouraged by the rewards best gives him, said Mrs. Joe. Happy is the man who can put temptation in his pocket, and learn self-denial from so sweet a little teacher added Mr. Bear.  When her father came to take her home a universal whale arose, and the parting gifts showered upon her increased her luggage to such an extent that Mr. Lore proposed having out the big wagon to take it into town.  The farewell scene was moving, for the princess sat upon the hall table surrounded by her subjects. She kissed her cousins and held at her hand to the other boys, who shook it gently with various soft speeches, for they were taught not to be ashamed of showing their emotions. Come again soon, little dear, whispered Dan, fastening his best green and gold beetle in her hat. Don't forget me, princess, whatever you do, said the engaging Tommy, taking a last stroke of the pretty hair. I am coming to your house next week, and then I shall see you, Bess, added Nat, as if he found consolation in the thought. Do shake hands now, cried Jack, offering a smooth paw. Here are two nice new ones to remember us by, said Dick and Dolly, presenting fresh whistles, quite unconscious that seven old ones had been privately deposited in the kitchen stove. My little precious, I shall work you a bookmark right away, and you must keep it always, said Nan, with a warm embrace. But of all the farewells poor Billy's was the most pathetic, for the thought that she was really going became so unbearable that he cast himself down before her, hugging her little blue boots, and blubbering despairingly.   This promise consoled Billy, and he fell back beaming with pride at the unusual honor conferred upon him. Me too, me too, clamored Dick and Dolly, feeling that their devotion deserved some return. The others looked, as if they would like to join in the cry, and something in the kind merry faces about her moved the princess to stretch out her arms and say with reckless condescension, I will kiss everybody! Like a swarm of bees about a very sweet flower, the affectionate lads surrounded their pretty playmate and kissed her till she looked like a little rose, not roughly, but so enthusiastically, that nothing but the crown of her hat was visible for a moment. Then her father rescued her, and she drove away still smiling and waving her hands, while the boys sat on the fence screaming like a flock of guinea fowls, come back, come back till she was out of sight. They all missed her, and each dimly felt that he was better for having known a creature so lovely, delicate, and sweet. For little Bess appealed to the chivalrous instinct in them as something to love, admire, and protect with a tender sort of reverence. Many a man remembers some pretty child who has made a place in his heart and kept her memory alive by the simple magic of her innocence. These little men were just learning to feel this power, and to love it for its gentle influence, not ashamed to let the small hand lead them, nor to own their loyalty to womankind, even in the bud. Little Men Life at Plumfield with Joe's Boys by Louisa May Alcott Chapter XIV Damon and Pithias Mrs. Bear was right. Peace was only a temporary lull. A storm was brewing, and two days after Bess left, a moral earthquake shook Plumfield to its center. Tommy's hens were at the bottom of the trouble. For if they had not persisted in laying so many eggs, he could not have sold them and made such sums. Money is the root of all evil, and yet it is such a useful root that we cannot get on without it any more than we can without potatoes. Tommy certainly could not, for he spent his income so recklessly that Mr. Bear was obliged to insist on a savings bank, and presented him with a private one, an imposing tin edifice, with a name over the door and a tall chimney, down which the pennies were to go, there to rattle temptingly till leave was given to open a sort of trap door in the floor. The house increased in weight so rapidly that Tommy soon became satisfied with his investment, and planned to buy unheard of treasures with his capital. He kept accounts of the sums deposited, and was promised that he might break the bank as soon as he had five dollars, on condition that he spent the money wisely. Only one dollar was needed, and the day Mrs. Joe paid him for four dozen eggs, he was so delighted that he raced off to the barn to display the bright quarters to Nat, who was also laying by money for the long desired violin. I wish I had him to put with my three dollars, then I'd soon get enough to buy my fiddle, he said, looking wistfully at the money. Perhaps I'll end you some. I haven't decided yet what I'll do with mine, said Tommy, tossing up his quarters and catching them as they fell. Hi, boys! Come down to the brook, and see what a jolly great snake Dan's got called a voice from behind the barn. Come on, said Tommy, and laying his money inside the old winnowing machine away he ran followed by Nat. The snake was very interesting, and then a long chase after a lame crow and its capture so absorbed Tommy's mind and time that he never thought of his money till he was safely in bed that night. Never mind, no one but Nat knows where it is, said the easygoing lad, and fell asleep untroubled by any anxiety about his property. Next morning, just as the boys assembled for school, Tommy rushed into the room breathlessly demanding, I say, who has got my dollar? What are you talking about? asked Frans. Tommy explained, and Nat corroborated his statement. Everyone else declared they knew nothing about it, and began to look suspiciously at Nat, who got more and more alarmed and confused with each denial. Somebody must have taken it, said Frans, as Tommy shook his fist at the whole party and wrathfully declared that, by thunder turtles if I get a hold of the thief I'll give him what he won't forget in a hurry. Keep cool, Tom. We shall find him out. Thieves always come to grief, said Dan, as one who knew something of the matter. Maybe some tramp slept in the barn and took it, suggested Ned. No, Silas don't allow that. Besides, a tramp wouldn't go looking in that old machine for money, said E-mail Wiscorn. Wasn't it Silas himself, said Jack? Well, I like that. Old Si is as honest as daylight. He wouldn't catch him touching a penny of ours, said Tommy, handsomely defending his chief admirer from suspicion. Whoever it was had better tell and not wait to be found out, said Demi, looking as if an awful misfortune had befallen the family. I know you think it's me, broke out Nat, read and excited. You are the only one who knew where it was, said Frans. I can't help it. I didn't take it. I tell you, I didn't. I didn't, cried Nat, in a desperate sort of way. Gently, gently, my son, what is all this noise about? And Mr. Bear walked in among them.   Now, boys, I shall ask each of you a single question, and I want an honest answer. I'm not going to try to frighten, bribe, or surprise the truth out of you. For every one of you have got a conscience and know what it is for. Now is the time to undo the wrong done to Tommy, and set yourself right before us all. I can forgive the yielding to sudden temptation much easier than I can to seat. Don't add a lie to the theft, and we will all try to help you make us forget and forgive. He paused a moment, and one might have heard a pin drop, the room was so still. Then slowly and impressively he put the question to each one, receiving the same answer in varying tones from all. Every face was flushed and excited, so that Mr. Bear could not take color as a witness. And some of the little boys were so frightened that they stammered over the two short words as if guilty, though it was evident that they could not be. When he came to Nat his voice softened, for the poor lad looked so wretched, Mr. Bear felt for him. He believed him to be the culprit, and hoped to save the boy from another lie, by winning him to tell the truth without fear. Now, my son, give me an honest answer. Did you take the money? No, sir! And Nat looked up at him imploringly. As the words fell from his trembling lips somebody hissed. Stop that, cried Mr. Bear, with a sharp wrap at his desk, as he looked sternly toward the corner whence the sound came. Ned, Jack, and E-Mail sat there, and the first two looked ashamed of themselves. But E-Mail called out, It wasn't me, Uncle, I'd be ashamed to hit a fellow when he is down. Good for you, cried Tommy, who was in a sad state of affliction that the trouble his unlucky dollar had made. Silence, commanded Mr. Bear, and when he came he said soberly, I am very sorry, Nat, but evidences are against you, and your old fault makes us more ready to doubt you than we should be if we could trust you as we do some of the boys who never fib. But mind, my child, I do not charge you with this theft. I shall not punish you for it till I am perfectly sure, nor ask anything more about it. I shall leave it for you to settle with your own conscience. If you are guilty, come to me at any hour of the day or night, and confess it, and I will forgive and help you to amend. If you are innocent the truth will appear sooner or later, and the instant it does I will be the first to beg your pardon for doubting you, and will so gladly do my best to clear your character before us all. I didn't! I didn't, sob, Nat, with his head down upon his arms, for he could not bear the look of distrust and dislike which he read in the many eyes fixed on him. I hope not. Mr. Bear paused a minute, as if to give the culprit whoever he might be, one more chance. Nobody spoke, however, and only sniffs of sympathy from some of the little fellows broke the silence. Mr. Bear shook his head and added regretfully, There is nothing more to be done, then, and I have but one thing to say. I shall not speak of this again, and I wish you all to follow my example. I cannot expect you to feel as kindly toward anyone whom you suspect as before this happened. But I do expect and desire that you will not torment the suspect person in any way. He will have a hard time enough without that. Now go to your lessons. Father Bear let Nat off too easy, muttered Ned to email, as they got out their books. Hold your tongue, growled email, who felt that this event was a blot upon the family honour. Many of the boys agreed with Ned. But Mr. Bear was right, nevertheless, and Nat would have been wiser to confess on the spot and have the trouble over, for even the hardest whipping he ever received from his father was far easier to bear than the cold looks, the avoidance, and general suspicion that met him on all sides. If ever a boy was sent to Coventry and kept there, it was poor Nat, and he suffered a week of slow torture, though not a hand was raised against him, and hardly a word said. That was the worst of it. If they would only have talked it out, or even had thrashed him all round, he could have stood it better, than the silent distrust that made every face so terrible to meet. Even Mrs. Bear showed traces of it, though her manner was nearly as kind as ever. But the sorrowful anxious look in Father Bear's eyes cut Nat to the heart, for he loved his teacher dearly, and knew that he had disappointed all his hopes by this double sin. Only one person in the house entirely believed in him, and stood up for him stoutly against all the rest. This was Daisy. She could not explain why she trusted him against all appearances. She only felt that she could not doubt him, and her warm sympathy made her strong to take his part. She would not hear a word against him from any one, and actually slapped her beloved Demi, when he tried to convince her that it must have been Nat, because no one else knew where the money was. Maybe the hens ate it, they are greedy old things, she said, and when Demi laughed she lost her temper, slapped the amazed boy, and then burst out crying and ran away still declaring, he didn't, he didn't, he didn't. Neither Aunt nor Uncle tried to shake the child's faith in her friend, but only hoped her innocent instinct might prove sure, and loved her all the better for it. Nat often said after it was over, that he couldn't have stood it if it had not been for Daisy. When the others shunned him she clung to him closer than ever, and turned her back on the rest. She did not sit on the stairs now when he solaced himself with the old fiddle, but went in and sat beside him, listening with a face so full of confidence and affection, that Matt forgot disgrace for a time and was happy. She asked him to help her with her lessons.  She proposed impossible games of cricket and ball when she found that he shrank from joining the other boys. She put little nose gaze from her garden on his desk, and tried in every way to show that she was not a fair weather friend, but faithful through evil as well as good, repute. Nan, soon followed her example in kindness at least, curbed her sharp tongue and kept her scornful little nose from any demonstration of doubt or dislike, which was good of Madame giddy-gaddy, for she firmly believed that Nat took the money. Most of the boys let him severely alone, but Dan, though he said he despised him for being a coward, watched over him with a grim sort of protection, and promptly impromptly cuffed any lad who dared to molest his mate or make him afraid. His idea of friendship was as high as Daisy's, and in his own rough way he lived up to it as loyally. Sitting by the brook one afternoon absorbed in the study of domestic habits of water-spiders, he overheard a bit of conversation on the other side of the wall. Ned, who was intensely inquisitive, had been on tenterhooks to know certainly who was the culprit. For of late one or two of the boys had begun to think that they were wrong. Nat was so steadfast in his denials and so meek in his endurance of their neglect. This doubt had teased Ned past bearing, and he had several times privately beset Nat with questions, regardless of Mr. Bear's express command. Finding Nat reading alone on the shady side of the wall, Ned could not resist stopping for a nibble at the forbidden subject. He had worried Nat for some ten minutes before Dan arrived, and the first words the spider-student heard were, these, in Nat's patient-pleading voice. Don't, Ned! Oh, don't! I can't tell you because I don't know, and it's mean of you to keep nagging at me on the sly when Father Bear told you not to plague me. You wouldn't dare to if Dan was around. I ain't afraid of Dan.  Don't believe what he took Tom's money, and you know it and won't tell. Come now! He didn't, but if he did I would stand up for him. He has always been so good to me, said Nat, so earnestly that Dan forgot his spiders, and rose quickly to thank him. But Ned's next words arrested him. I know Dan did it and gave the money to you. Shouldn't wonder if he got his living picking pockets before he came here. For nobody knows anything about him but you, said Ned. Not believing his own words, but hoping to get the truth out of Nat by making him angry. He succeeded in part of his ungenerous wish, for Nat cried out fiercely. If you say that again I'll go and tell Mr. Bear all about it. I don't want to tell tales, but by George I will if you don't let Dan alone.  For Nat had borne insult to himself so meekly the other did not believe he would dare to face the Master just to stand up for Dan. What he might have added I cannot tell, for the words were hardly out of his mouth when a long arm from behind took him by the collar, and jerking him over the wall, in a most promiscuous way landed him with a splash in the middle of the brook. Say that again and I'll duck you till you can't see, cried Dan, looking like a modern colossus of roads as he stood, with a foot on either side of the narrow stream glaring down at the discomforted youth in the water. I was only in fun, said Ned.  Let me catch you at it again, and I'll souse you in the river next time. Get up and clear out, Thunder Dan, in a rage. Ned fled, dripping, and his impromptu sits-bath evidently did him good, for he was very respectful to both the boys after that, and seemed to have left his curiosity in the brook.  He won't pester you again, I guess. If he does, just tell me, and I'll see to him, said Dan, trying to cool down. I don't mind what he says about me so much. I've got used to it, answered Nat, sadly, but I hate to have him pitch into you. How do you know he isn't right? asked Dan, turning his face away. What, about the money, cried Nat, looking up with a startled air? Yes. But I don't believe it. You don't care for money. All you want is your old bugs and things, and Nat laughed incredulously. I want a butterfly net as much as you want a fiddle, why shouldn't I steal the money for it as much as you, said Dan, still turning away and busily punching holes in the turf with his stick? I don't think you would. You like to fight and knock folks round sometimes, but you don't lie, and I don't believe you'd steal. And Nat shook his head decidedly. I've done both. I used to fib like fury. It's too much trouble now, and I stole things to eat out of gardens, when I ran away from Page. So you see I am a bad lot, said Dan, speaking in the rough, reckless way which he had been learning to drop lately. Oh, Dan, don't say it's you. I'd rather have it any of the other boys, cried Nat, in such a distressed tone that Dan looked pleased, and showed that he did by turning round with a queer expression in his eyes, though he only answered. I won't say anything about it, but don't you fret, and we'll pull through somehow, see if we don't. Something in his face and manner gave Nat a new idea, and he said, pressing his hands together in the eagerness of his appeal. I think you know who did it. If you do beg him to tell, Dan, it's so hard to have him all hate me for nothing. I don't think I can bear it much longer. If I had any place to go to, I'd run away, though I love Plumfield dearly.  As he spoke, Nat looked so broken and despairing that Dan could not bear it, and muttered huskily, you won't wait long, and he walked rapidly away and was seen no more for hours. What is the matter with Dan, asked the boys of one another several times during the Sunday that followed, a week which seemed as if it would not end. Dan was often moody, but that day he was so sober and silent that no one could get anything out of him. When they walked he strayed away from the rest and came home late. He took no part in the evening conversation but sat in the shadow, so busy with his own thoughts that he scarcely seemed to hear what was going on. When Mrs. Joe showed him an unusually good report in the conscience book, he looked at it without a smile and said wistfully, You think I'm getting on, don't you? Excellently, Dan, and I am so pleased, because I always thought you only needed a little help to make you a boy to be proud of. He looked up at her with a strange expression in his black eyes, an expression of mingled pride and love and sorrow which she could not understand then, but remembered afterward. I'm afraid you'll be disappointed, but I do try, he said, shutting the book with no sign of pleasure in the page that he usually liked so much to read over and talk about. Are you sick, dear? asked Mrs. Joe with her hand on his shoulder. My foot aches a little, I guess I'll go to bed. Good night, mother, he added, and held the hand against his cheek a minute, then went away looking as if he had said goodbye to something dear. Poor Dan, he takes Nat's disgrace to heart sadly. He is a strange boy. I wonder if I ever shall understand him thoroughly, said Mrs. Joe to herself, as she thought over Dan's late improvement with real satisfaction, yet felt that there was more in the lad than she had at first suspected. One of the things which cut Nat most deeply was an act of Tommy's. For after his loss, Tommy had said to him kindly but firmly, I don't wish to hurt you, Nat, but you see I can't afford to lose my money, so I guess we won't be partners any longer. And with that Tommy rubbed out the sign T-Bangs and Co. Nat had been very proud of the Co, and had hunted eggs industriously, kept his accounts all straight, and had added a good sum to his income from the sale of his share of stock and trade. Oh, Tom must chew, he said, feeling that his good name was gone forever in the business world if this was done. I must return Tommy firmly. Emile says that when one man bezels, believe that's the word, it means to take money and cut away with it, the property of a firm. The other one sews him, or pitches into him somehow, and won't have anything more to do with him. Now you have bezled my property. I shan't sue you and I shan't pitch into you, but I must dissolve the partnership because I can't trust you, and I don't wish to fail. I can't make you believe me, and you won't take my money, though I'd be thankful to give all my dollars if you'd only say you don't think I took your money. Do let me hunt for you, I won't ask any wages, but do it for nothing. I know all the places, and I like it, pleaded Nat. But Tommy shook his head, and his jolly, round face looked suspicious and hard as he said shortly. Can't do it. Wish you didn't know the places. Mind you don't go hunting on the sly and speculate in my eggs. Poor Nat was so hurt that he could not get over it. He felt that he had lost not only his partner and patron, but that he was bankrupt in honour, and an outlaw from the business community. No one trusted his word, written or spoken, in spite of his efforts to redeem the past falsehood. The sign was down, the firm broken up, and he a ruined man. The barn, which was the boy's wall street, knew him no more. Cockle-top and her sisters cackled for him in vain, and really seemed to take his misfortune to heart, for eggs were fewer, and some of the bitties retired in disgust, and some of the bitties retired in disgust, to new nests which Tommy could not find. They trust me, said Nat when he heard of it, and though the boy shouted at the idea, Nat found comfort in it, for when one is down in the world the confidence of even a speckled hen is most consoling. Tommy took no new partner, however, for distrust had entered in, and poisoned the peace of his once confiding soul. Ned offered to join him, but he declined, saying with a sense of justice that did him honour. It might turn out that Nat didn't take my money, and then we could be partners again. I don't think it will happen, but I will give him a chance and keep the place open a little longer. Billy was the only person whom bangs felt he could trust in his shop, and Billy was trained to hunt eggs and hand them over unbroken, being quite satisfied with an apple or a sugar plum for wages. The morning after Dan's gloomy Sunday Billy said to his employer as he displayed the results of a long hunt, only two. It gets worse and worse. I never saw such provoking old hens, growled Tommy, thinking of the days when he often had six to rejoice over. Well put him in my hat and give me a new bit of chalk, I must mark him up anyway. Billy mounted a peck measure and looked into the top of the machine, where Tommy kept his writing materials. There's lots of money in here, said Billy. No there isn't. Catch me leaving my cash round again, return Tommy. I see him. One. Four. Eight. Two dollars, persisted Billy, who had not yet mastered the figures correctly.  And Tommy hopped up to get the chalk for himself, but nearly tumbled down again for there actually were four bright quarters in a row with a bit of paper on them directed to Tom Baines that there might be no mistake. Thunder turtles cried Tommy, and seizing them he dashed into the house bawling wildly. It's all right, got my money, where's Nat? He was soon found and his surprise and pleasure was so genuine that few doubted his word when he now denied all knowledge of the money. How could I put it back when I didn't take it? Do believe me now and be good to me again, he said so imploringly, that email slapped him on the back and declared he would for one. So will I, and I'm jolly glad it's not you. But who the Dickens is it, said Tommy, after shaking hands heartily with Nat. Never mind as long as it's found, said Dan, with his eyes fixed on Nat's happy face. Well, I like that. I'm not going to have my things hooked and then brought back like a juggling man's tricks, cried Tommy, looking at his money as if he suspected witchcraft. We'll find him out somehow, though he was sly enough to print this so his writing wouldn't be known, said Franz, examining the paper. Demi-Prince tip-top put in Rob, who had not a very clear idea what the fuss was all about. You can't make me believe it's him, not if you talk till you're blue, said Tommy, and the others hooted at the mere idea, for the little deacon, as they called him, was above suspicion. Nat felt the difference in the way they spoke of Demi and himself, and would have given all he had ever or ever hoped to have to be so trusted, for he had learned how easy it is to lose the confidence of others, how very, very hard to win it back, and truth became to him a precious thing since he had suffered from neglecting it. Mr. Bear was very glad one step had been taken in the right direction, and waited hopefully for yet further revelations. They came sooner than he expected, and in a way that surprised and grieved him very much. As they sat at supper that night, a square parcel was handed to Mrs. Bear for Mrs. Bates, a neighbor. A note accompanied the parcel, and while Mr. Bear read it, Demi pulled off the wrapper exclaiming as he saw its contents. Why, it's the book Uncle Teddy gave Dan. The devil broke from Dan, for he had not quite cured himself a swearing, though he tried very hard. Mr. Bear looked up quickly at the sound. Dad tried to meet his eyes, but could not. His own fell, and he sat biting his lips, getting redder and redder till he was the picture of shame. What is it, asked Mrs. Bear anxiously? I should have preferred to talk about this in private. But Demi has spoiled my plan, so I may as well have it out now, said Mr. Bear, looking a little stern as he always did when any meanness or deceit came up for judgment. The note is for Mrs. Bates, and she says that her boy Jimmy told her he bought this book of Dan last Saturday. She saw that it was worth much more than a dollar, and thinking there was some mistake has sent it to me. Did you sell it, Dan? Yes, sir, was the slow answer. Why? Wanted money. For what? To pay somebody. To whom did you owe it? Tommy. Never borrowed a cent of me in his life, cried Tommy, looking scared, for he guessed what was coming now, and felt that on the whole he would have preferred witchcraft. For he admired Dan immensely.  Oh, Dan, cried Nat, clasping his hands, regardless of the bread and butter in them. It is a hard thing to do, but I must have this settled, for I cannot have you watching each other like detectives, and the whole school disturbed in this way. Did you put that dollar in the barn this morning, asked Mr. Bear? Dan looked him straight in the face and answered steadily. Yes, I did. A murmur went round the table. Tommy dropped his mug with a crash. Daisy cried out, I knew it wasn't Nat. Nan began to cry, and Mrs. Joe left the room looking so disappointed, sorry, and ashamed, that Dan could not bear it. He hid his face in his hands a moment, then threw up his head, squared his shoulders as if settling some load upon them, and said with the dogged look and half-resolute, half-reckless tone he had used when he first came, I did it, now you may do what you like to me, but I won't say another word about it. Not even that you were sorry, asked Mr. Bear, troubled by the change in him. I ain't sorry. I'll forgive him without asking, said Tommy, feeling that it was harder somehow to see brave Dan disgrace than Tim and Nat. Don't want to be forgiven, returned Dan gruffly. Perhaps you will when you have thought about it quietly by yourself. I won't tell you how surprised and disappointed I am, but by and by I will come up and talk to you in your room. Won't make any difference, said Dan, trying to speak defiantly, but failing as he looked at Mr. Bear's sorrowful face. And taking his words for a dismissal, Dan left the room as if he found it impossible to stay. It would have done him good if he had stayed, for the boys talked the matter over with such sincere regret, and pity, and wonder, it might have touched and won him to ask pardon. No one was glad to find that it was he, not even Nat. For spite all of his failures, and they were many, everyone like Dan now, because under his rough exterior lay some of the manly virtues which we most admire and love. Mrs. Joe had been the chief prop, as well as cultivator of Dan, and she took it sadly to heart that her last and most interesting boy had turned out so ill. The theft was bad, but the lying about it, and allowing another to suffer so much from an unjust suspicion, was worse. And most discouraging of all was the attempt to restore the money in an underhand way, for it showed not only a want of courage, but a power of deceit that boated ill for the future. Still more trying was his steady refusal to talk of the matter, to ask pardon, or express any remorse. Days passed and he went about his lessons and his work, silent, grim, and unrepentant. As if taking warning that by their treatment of Nat, he asked no sympathy of any one, rejected the advances of the boys, and spent his leisure hours roaming about the fields and woods, trying to find playmates in the birds and beasts, and succeeding better than most boys would have done, because he knew and loved them so well. If this goes on much longer I am afraid he will run away again, for he is too young to stand a life like this, said Mr. Bear, quite dejected at the failure of all his efforts. A little while ago I should have been quite sure that nothing would tempt him away, but now I am ready of anything. He has so changed, answered poor Mrs. Joe, who mourned over her boy and could not be comforted, because he shunned her more than anyone else, and only looked at her with the half-fierce, half-implurring eyes of a wild animal caught in a trap when she tried to talk to him alone.  Don't worry about me. I can stand it better than you did. But I don't like to have you all alone, Nat would say sorrowfully. I like it, and Dan would tramp away stifling a sigh sometimes, for he was lonely. Passing through the birch grove one day he came on several of the boys who were amusing themselves by climbing up the trees and swinging down again, as the slender elastic stems bent till their tops touched the ground. Dan paused a minute to watch the fun without offering to join in it, and as he stood there Jack took his turn. He had unfortunately chosen too large a tree, for when he swung off it only bent a little way and left him hanging at a dangerous height. Go back you can't do it, called Ned from below. Jack tried, but the twigs slipped from his hands, and he could not get his legs around the trunk. He kicked and squirmed and clutched in vain, then gave it up and hung breathlessly, saying helplessly, Catch me! Help me! I must drop. You'll be killed if you do, cried Ned, frightened out of his wits. Hold on, shouted Dan, and up the tree he went, crashing his way along till he nearly reached Jack, whose face looked up at him full of fear and hope. You'll both come down, said Ned, dancing with excitement on the slope underneath, while Nat held out his arms in the wild hope of breaking the fall. That's what I want, stand from under, answered Dan Cooley, and as he spoke his added weight bent the tree many feet nearer the earth. Jack dropped safely, but the birch, lightened of half its load, flew up again so suddenly that Dan, in the act of swinging round to drop feet foremost, lost his hold and fell heavily. I'm not hurt.   It wasn't anything, muttered Dan, rising slowly.  Ned checked the unlucky word in his tongue and held out his hand, feeling that it was a handsome thing on his part. But I won't shake hands with a sneak, and Dan turned his back with a look of scorn that caused Ned to remember the brook and retire with undignified haste. Come home, old chap, I'll give you a lift, and Nat walked away with him leaving the others to talk over the feet together, to wonder when Dan would come round, and to wish one and all that Tommy's confounded money had been in Jericho before it made such a fuss. When Mr. Bear came into school next morning he looked so happy that the boys wondered what had happened to him, and really thought he had lost his mind when they saw him go straight to Dan and taking him by both hands, say all in one breath, as he shook them heartily. I know all about it, and I beg your pardon. It was like you to do it. And I love you for it, though it's never right to tell lies even for a friend. What is it, cried Nat?  Dan did not take Tommy's money, and Mr. Bear quite shouted it he was so glad. Who did, cried the boys in a chorus. Mr. Bear pointed to one empty seat, and every eye followed his finger, yet no one spoke for a minute, they were so surprised. Jack went home early this morning, but he left this behind him. And in the silence Mr. Bear read the note which he had found tied to his door handle when he rose. I took Tommy's dollar. I was peeking in through a crack and saw him put it there. I was afraid to tell before, though I wanted to. I didn't care so much about Nat, but Dan is a Trump, and I can't stand it any longer. I never spent the money, it's under the carpet in my room, right behind the wash stand. I'm awful sorry, I'm going home and don't think I shall ever come back, so Dan may have my things. Jack. It was not an elegant confession, being badly written, much blotted and very short, but it was a precious paper to Dan. And when Mr. Bear paused the boy went to him saying, in a rather broken voice, but with clear eyes, in the frank, respectful manner they had tried to teach him. I'll say I'm sorry now, and ask you to forgive me, sir. It was a kind lie, Dan, and I can't help forgiving it.  It kept the boys from plaguing Nat. That's what I did it for. It made him right down miserable. I didn't care so much, explained Dan, as if glad to speak out after his hard silence. How could you do it? You were always so kind to me, faltered Nat, feeling a strong desire to hug his friend and cry. Two girlish performances, which would have scandalized Dan to the last degree. It's all right now, old fellow, so don't be a fool, he said, swallowing the lump in his throat and laughing out as he had not done for weeks. Does Mrs. Bear know, he asked eagerly?  But got no farther, for here the boys came crowding about Dan in a tumult of pleasure and curiosity. But before he had answered more than a dozen questions, a voice cried out, three cheers for Dan, and there was Mrs. Joe in the doorway waving her dish-tow and looking as if she wanted to dance a jig, for joy as she used to do when a girl. Now then cried Mr. Bear and let off a rousing hurrah, which startled Asia in the kitchen and made old Mr. Robert shake his head as he drove by, saying, schools are not what they were when I was young. Dan stood it pretty well for a minute, but the sight of Mrs. Joe's delight upset him, and he suddenly bolted across the hall into the parlor, with her she instantly followed, and neither was seen for half an hour. Mr. Bear found it very difficult to calm his excited flock, and seeing that lessons weren't impossibility for a time, he caught their attention by telling them the final story of the friends whose fidelity to one another had made their names immortal. The lads listened and remembered, for just then their hearts were touched by the loyalty of a humbler pair of friends. The lie was wrong, but the love that prompted it, and the courage that bore in silence, the disgrace which belonged to another, made Dan a hero in their eyes. Honesty and honour had a new meaning now, a good name was more precious than gold, for once lost money could not buy it back, and faith in one another made life smooth and happy as nothing else could do. Tommy proudly restored the name of the firm, Nat was devoted to Dan, and all the boys tried to atone to both for former suspicion and neglect. Mrs. Joe rejoiced over her flock, and Mr. Bear was never tired of telling the story of his young daemon and pithius. 15. In the Willow The old tree saw and heard a good many little scenes and confidences that summer, because it became the favourite retreat of all the children, and the Willow seemed to enjoy it, for a pleasant welcome always met them, and the quiet hours spent in its arms did them all good. It had a great deal of company one Saturday afternoon, and some little bird reported what went on there. First came Nan and Daisy with their small tubs and bits of soap, for now and then they were seized with a tidy fit, and washed up all their doll's clothes in the brook. Asia would not have them slopping round in her kitchen, and the bathroom was forbidden since Nan forgot to turn off the water till it overflowed and came gently dripping down through the ceiling. Daisy went systematically to work, washing first the white and then the coloured things, rinsing them nicely, and hanging them to dry on a cord fastened from one barberry bush to another, and pinning them up with a set of tiny clothespins, Ned had turned for her. But Nan put all her little things to soak in the same tub, and then forgot them while she collected thistle down to stuff a pillow for Samaramus, Queen of Babylon, as one doll was named. This took some time, and when Mrs. Giddy Gattie came to take out her clothes, deep green stains appeared on everything, for she had forgotten the green silk lining of a certain cape, and its colour had soaked nicely into the pink and blue gowns, the little chemises, and even the best ruffled petticoat. Oh, me, what a mess! sighed Nan. Lay them on the grass to bleach, said Daisy, with an air of experience. So I will, and we can sit up in the nest and watch that they don't blow away. The Queen of Babylon's wardrobe was spread forth upon the bank, and turning up their tubs to dry, the little washer-women climbed into the nest and fell to talking. As ladies are apt to do in the pauses of domestic labour, I'm going to have a feather-bed to go with my new pillow, said Mrs. Giddy Gattie, as she transferred the thistle down from her pocket to her handkerchief, losing about half in the process. I wouldn't. Aunt Joe says feather-beds aren't healthy. I never let my children sleep on anything but a mattress, returned Mrs. Shakespeare Smith decidedly. I don't care. My children are so strong they often sleep on the floor and don't mind it, which was quite true. I can't afford nine mattresses, and I like to make beds myself. Won't Tommy charge for the feathers? Maybe he will, but I shan't pay him and he won't care, returned Mrs. G., taking a base advantage of the well-known good nature of tea-bangs. I think the pink will fade out of that dress sooner than the green mark will, observed Mrs. S., looking down from her perch, and changing the subject. For she and her gossip differed on many points, and Mrs. Smith was a discreet lady. Never mind. I'm tired of dolls, and I guess I shall put them all away and attend to my farm. I like it rather better than playing how, said Mrs. G., unconsciously expressing the desire of many older ladies, who cannot dispose of their families so easily, however. But you mustn't leave them.  Let them die, then. I'm tired of fussing over babies, and I'm going to play with the boys. They need me to see to them, returned a strong-minded lady. Daisy knew nothing about women's rights. She quietly took all she wanted, and no one denied her claim, because she did not undertake what she could not carry out. But unconsciously used the all-powerful right of her own influence to win from others any privilege for which she had proved her fitness. Nan attempted all sorts of things, undaunted by direful failures, and clamored fiercely to be allowed to do everything that the boys did. They laughed at her, hustled her out of the way, and protested against her meddling with their affairs. But she would not be quenched, and she would be heard, for her will was strong, and she had the spirit of a rampant reformer. Mrs. Baer sympathized with her, but tried to curb her frantic desire for entire liberty. Showing her that she must wait a little, learn self-control, and be ready to use her freedom before she asked for it. Nan had meek moments when she agreed to this, and the influence at work upon her were gradually taking effect. She no longer declared that she would be engine driver or a blacksmith, but turned her mind to farming, and found in it a vent for the energy bottled up in her active little body. It did not quite satisfy her, however, for her sage and sweet marjoram were dumb things, and could not thank her for her care.  Seeing this, Mrs. Joe proposed that she should learn how to do it nicely, and Mercy had an apt pupil in bandaging, plastering, and fomenting. The boys began to call her Dr. Giddy Gattie, and she liked it so well that Mrs. Joe one day said to the professor, Fritz, I see what we can do for that child. She wants something to live for even now, and will be one of the sharp, strong, discontented women if she does not have it. Don't let us snub her restless little nature, but do our best to give her the work she likes, and by and by persuade her father to let her study medicine. She will make a capital doctor, for she has courage, strong nerves, a tender heart, and an intense love and pity for the weak and suffering. Mr. Bear smiled at first, but agreed to try, and gave Nan an herb garden, teaching her the various healing properties of the plants she tended, and letting her try their virtues on the children in the little illnesses they had from time to time.  She was thinking of this as she sat in the willow that day, and when Daisy said in her gentle way, I love to keep house, and mean to have a nice one for Demi when we grow up and live together. Nan replied with decision. Well, I haven't got any, brother, and I don't want any house to fuss over. I shall have an office with lots of bottles and drawers and pestle things in it, and I shall drive round in a horse and chase and cure sick people. That will be such fun.  I shan't have to take any, so I don't care. Besides, they make people well, and I like to cure folks. Didn't my sage tea make Mother Bear's headache go away, and my hops stop Ned's toothache in five hours? So now. Shall you put leeches on people and cut off legs and pull out teeth, asked Daisy, quaking at the thought? Yes, I shall do everything.  I shall mend them. My grandpa was a doctor, and I saw him sew a great cut in a man's cheek, and I held the sponge, and wasn't frightened a bit, and grandpa said I was a brave girl. How could you? I'm sorry for sick people, and I like to nurse them. But it makes my legs shake so I have to run away. I'm not a brave girl, sighed Daisy. Well, you can be my nurse, and cuddle my patients when I have given them this physique, and cut off their legs, said Nan, whose practice was evidently to be of the heroic kind. Ship ahoy, where are you, Nan? called a voice from below. Here we are. I-I said the voice. An email appeared, holding one hand and the other, with his face puckered up as if in pain. Oh, what's the matter, cried Daisy anxiously? A confounded splinter in my thumb. Can't get it out. Take a pick at it, will you, Nanny? It's in very deep, and I haven't any needles, said Nan, examining a tarry thumb with interest. Take a pin, said E-mail, in a hurry. No, it's too big, and hasn't got a sharp point. Here Daisy, who had dived into her pocket, presented a neat little housewife with four needles in it. You are the posy who always has what we want, said E-mail, and Nan resolved to have a needle book in her own pocket henceforth, for just such cases as this were always occurring in her practice. Daisy covered her eyes, but Nan probed and picked with a steady hand, while E-mail gave directions not down in any medical work or record. Starboard now. Steady, boys, steady. Try another tack. Heave-ho! There she is. Suck it, ordered the doctor, surveying the splinter with an experienced eye. Too dirty, responded the patient, shaking his bleeding hand. Wait, I'll tie it up for you, if you have got a handkerchief. Haven't. Take one of those rags down there. Gracious! No indeed! They are dolls' clothes, cried Daisy indignantly.  It happened to be the frilled skirt. But Nan tore it up without a murmur, and when the royal petticoat was turned into a neat little bandage, she dismissed her patient with the command. Keep it wet and let it alone, then it will heal right up and not be sore. What do you charge, asked the Commodore, laughing? Nothing. I keep a spensary.  Thank you, Dr. Gittigatti. I'll always call you in when I come to grief. An E-mail departed, but looked back to say for one good turn deserves another. Your duds are blowing away, doctor.  A passing breath of air shook the old willow as if it laughed softly at the childish chatter which went on in the nest, and it had hardly composed itself when another pair of birds alighted for a confidential Twitter. Now I'll tell you the secret began, Tommy, who was swelling wizibly with the importance of his news. Tell away, answered Nat, wishing he had brought his fiddle. It was so shady and quiet here. Well, we fellows were talking over the late interesting case of circumstantial evidence, said Tommy, quoting it random from a speech friends had made at the club. And I propose giving Dan something to make up for, or suspecting him to show our respect. And so on. You know something handsome and useful, that he could keep always and be proud of? What do you think we chose? A butterfly net. He wants one error so much, said Nat, looking a little disappointed for he meant to get it himself. No, sir, it's to be a microscope, a real swell one, that we see what do you call them in water with, and stars, and ant eggs, and all sorts of games, you know. Won't it be a jolly good present? said Tommy, rather confusing microscopes and telescopes in his remarks. Tip top, I'm so glad. Won't it cost a heap, though, cried Nat, feeling that his friend was beginning to be appreciated? Of course it will, but we were all going to give something. I headed the paper with my five dollars, for if it is done at all it must be done handsome. What, all of it? I never did see such a generous chap as you are, and Nat beamed upon him with sincere admiration. Well, you see, I've been so bothered with my property that I'm tired of it, and don't mean to save up any more, but give it away as I go along, and then nobody will envy me or want to steal it, and I shan't be suspecting folks in worrying about my old cash, replied Tommy, on whom the cares and anxieties of a millionaire weighed heavily. Will Mr. Bear let you do it? He thought it was a first-right plan, and said that some of the best men he knew preferred to do good with their money instead of laying it up to be squabbled over when they died. Your father is rich, does he do that way? I'm not sure. He gives me all I want, I know that much. I'm going to talk to him about it when I go home. Anyhow, I shall set him a good example, and Tommy was so serious that Nat did not dare to laugh, but said respectfully, You will be able to do ever so much with your money, won't you? So Mr. Bear said, and he promised to advise me about useful ways of spending it. I'm going to begin with Dan, and next time I get a dollar or so I shall do something for Dick. He's such a good little chap, and only has a cent a week for pocket money. He can't earn much, you know, so I'm going to kind of see to him, and good-hearted Tommy quite long to begin. I think that's a beautiful plan, and I'm not going to try to buy a fiddle anymore. I'm going to get Dan his net all by myself, and if there is any money left, I'll do something to please poor Billy. He's fond of me, and though he isn't poor, he'd like some little thing from me, because I can make out what he wants better than the rest of you. And that fell to wondering how much happiness could be got out of his precious three dollars. So I would. Now come and ask Mr. Bear if you can't go into town with me on Monday afternoon, so you can get the net. Will I get the microscope? Friends and email are going too, and we'll have a jolly time larking round among the shops. The lads walked away arm in arm, discussing the new plans with droll importance, yet beginning already to feel the sweet satisfaction which comes to those who try, no matter how humbly, to be earthly providences to the poor and helpless, and gild their might with the gold of charity before it is laid up where thieves cannot break through and steal. Come and rest while we sort the leaves. It's so cool and pleasant here, said Demi, as he and Dan came sauntering home from a long walk in the woods. All right, answered Dan, who was a boy of few words, and up they went. What makes birch leaves shake so much more than the others, asked inquiring Demi, who was always sure of an answer from Dan? They are hung differently. Don't you see the stem where it joins the leaf is sort of pinched one way, and where it joins the twig it is pinched another? This makes it waggle with the least bit of wind, but the elm leaves hang straight and keep stiller. How curious! Will this do so? And Demi held up a sprig of acacia which he had broken from a little tree on the lawn because it was so pretty. No, that belongs to the sort that shuts up when you touch it. Draw your finger down the middle of the stem and see if the leaves don't curl up, said Dan, who is examining a bit of mica. Demi tried it, and presently the little leaves did fold together till the spray showed a single instead of a double line of leaves. I like that. Tell me about the others. What did these do, asked Demi taking up a new branch? Feed silkworms. They live on mulberry leaves till they begin to spin themselves up. I was in a silk factory once, and there were rooms full of shelves all covered with leaves and worms eating them so fast that it made a rustle.  Tell that to stuffy. And Dan laughed as he took up another bit of rock with a lichen on it. I know one thing about this mull and leaf. The fairies used them for blankets, said Demi, who had not quite given up his faith in the existence of the little folk in green. If I had a microscope I'd show you something prettier than fairies, said Dan, wondering if he should ever own that coveted treasure. I knew an old woman who used mull and leaves for a night-cat because she had face-ache. She sewed them together and wore it all the time. How funny! Was she your grandmother? Never had any.  Folks called her a witch, but she wasn't, though she looked like an old rag-bag. She was real kind to me when I lived in that place and used to let me get warm at her fire when the folks at the poor house were hard on me. Did you live in a poor house? A little while. Never mind that, I didn't mean to speak of it. And Dan stopped short in his unusual fit of communicativeness. Tell about the cats, please, said Demi, feeling that he had asked an unpleasant question and sorry for it. Nothing to tell, only she had a lot of them, and kept them in a barrel-nights, and I used to go and tip over the barrel sometimes and let them out all over the house, and then she'd scold and chase them and put them in again, spitting and yelling like fury. Was she good to them, asked Demi, with a hearty child's laugh pleasant to hear? Guess she was, poor old soul. She took in all the lost and sick cats in town, and when anybody wanted one they went to Marmweber and she let them pick any kind and color they wanted, and only asked nine pints. She was glad to have her pussies get a good home. I should like to see Marmweber. Could I, if I went to that place? She's dead. All my folks are, said Dan briefly. I'm sorry, and Demi sat silent a minute wondering what subject would be safe to try next. He felt delicate about speaking of the departed lady, but was very curious about the cats, and could not resist asking softly.  Sometimes. One had a broken leg and she tied it up to a stick and it got well, and another had fits, and she doctored it with yarbs till it was cured. But some of them died, and she buried them, and when they couldn't get well she killed them easy. How! asked Demi, feeling that there was a peculiar charm about this old woman, and some sort of joke about the cats, because Dan was smiling to himself. A kind lady who was fond of cats told her how, and gave her some stuff, and sent all her own pussies to be killed that way. Marm used to put a sponge wet with ether in the bottom of an old boot, then poke puss in head downwards. The ether put her to sleep in a jiffy, and she was drowned in warm water before she woke up. I hope the cats didn't feel it. I shall tell Daisy about that. You have known a great many interesting things, haven't you? asked Demi, and fell to meditating on the vast experience of a boy who had run away more than once and taken care of himself in a big city. Wish I hadn't sometimes. Why? Don't remember any of them feel good? No. It's very singular how hard it is to manage your mind, said Demi, clasping his hands round his knees, and looking up at the sky as if for information upon his favorite topic. Devilish hard no. I don't mean that, and Dan bit his lips, for the forbidden words slipped out in spite of him, and he wanted to be more careful with Demi than with any of the other boys. I'll play I didn't hear it, said Demi, and you won't do it again, I'm sure. Not if I can help it. That's one of the things I don't want to remember. I keep pegging away, but it don't seem to do much good, and Dan looked discouraged. Yes, it does. You don't say half so many bad words as you used to, and Aunt Joe was pleased, because she said it was a hard habit to break up. Did she? And Dan cheered up a bit.  That's the way I do with my badness.  Well, it's one of my private plays, and I'll tell you, but I think you'll laugh at it, began Demi. Glad to hold forth on this congenial subject. I play that my mind is a round room, and my soul is a little sort of creature with wings that lives in it. The walls are full of shelves and drawers, and in them I keep my thoughts, and my goodness and badness, and all sorts of things. The goods I keep out where I can see them, and the bads I lock up tight, but they get out, and I have to keep putting them in and squeezing them down. They are so strong. The thoughts I play with when I am alone or in bed, and I make up and do what I like with them. Every Sunday I put my room in order, and talk with the little spirit that lives there, and tell him what to do. He is very bad sometimes, and won't mind me, and I have to scold him and take him to Grandpa. He always makes him behave, and be sorry for his faults, because Grandpa likes this play, and gives me nice things to put in the drawers, and tells me how to shut up the naughties. Hadn't you better try that way? It's a very good one. And Demi looks so earnest and full of faith that Dan did not laugh at this quaint fancy, but said soberly, I don't think there is a lock strong enough to keep my badness shut up, anyway my room is in such a clutter I don't know how to clear it up. You keep your drawers in the cabinet all spandy nice, why can't you do the others? I ain't used to it. Will you show me how? And Dan looked as if inclined to try Demi's childish way of keeping a soul in order. I'd love to, but I don't know how, except to talk as Grandpa does. I can't do it good like him, but I'll try. Don't tell anyone. Only now and then. We'll come here and talk things over, and I'll pay you for it by telling all I know about my sort of things. Will that do?  Demi gave his smooth little hand readily, and the league was made, for in the happy peaceful world where the younger boy lived, lions and lambs played together, and little children innocently taught their elders. Hush, said Dan, pointing towards the house, as Demi was about to indulge in another discourse on the best way of getting badness down, and keeping it down, and peeping from their perch, they saw Mrs. Joe strolling slowly along, reading as she went, while Teddy trotted behind her, dragging a little cart upside down. Wait till they see us, whispered Demi, and both sat still as the pair came nearer. Mrs. Joe so observed in her book that she would have walked into the brook if Teddy had not stopped her by saying, Mar Mar, I want her fists! Mrs. Joe put down the charming book which she had been trying to read for a week, and looked about her for a fishing pole, being used to making toys out of nothing. Before she had broken one from the hedge, a slender willow-bow fell at her feet, and looking up she saw the boys laughing in the nest. Up, up! cried Teddy, stretching his arms and flapping his skirts as if about to fly.  I must go to Daisy now. And Demi departed to rehearse the tale of the nineteen cats with the exciting boot and barrel episodes. Teddy was speedily whisked up, and then Dan said, laughing, Come to, there's plenty of room. I'll lend you a hand. Mrs. Joe glanced over her shoulder, but no one was in sight, and rather liking the joke of the thing she laughed back saying, Well, if you won't mention it I think I will. And with two nimble steps was in the willow. I haven't climbed a tree since I was married. I used to be very fond of it when I was a girl, she said, looking well pleased with her shady perch. Now you read if you want to, and I'll take care of Teddy, proposed Dan, beginning to make a fishing-rod for the impatient baby. I don't think I care about it now. What were you and Demi at up here, asked Mrs. Joe, thinking, from the sober look on Dan's face that he had something on his mind? Oh, we were talking. I'd been telling him about leaves and things, and he was telling me some of his queer plays. Now then, major, fish away. And Dan finished off his work by putting a big blue fly on the bent pin, which hung at the end of the cord he had tied to the willow-rod. Teddy leaned down from the tree, and was soon wrapped up in watching for the fish, which he felt sure would come. Dan held him by his little petticoats, lest he should take a header into the brook. And Mrs. Joe soon won him to talking by doing so herself.  It is just what he needs, and I wish you would teach him and take him to walk with you. I'd like to. He is so bright, but—but what? I didn't think you'd trust me. Why not? Well, Demi is so kind of precious and so good, and I'm such a bad lot I thought you'd keep him away from me. But you are not a bad lot, as you say. And I do trust you, Dan, entirely, because you honestly try to improve, and do better and better every week. Really? And Dan looked up at her with the cloud of despondency lifting from his face. Yes. Don't you feel it? I hoped so, but I didn't know. I have been waiting and watching quietly, for I thought I'd give you a good trial first, and if you stood it, I would give you the best reward I had. You have stood it well, and now I'm going to trust not only Demi, but my own boy to you, because you can teach them some things better than any of us. Can I? And Dan looked amazed at the idea. Demi has lived among older people so much, that he needs just what you have— knowledge of common things, strength, and courage. He thinks you are the bravest boy he ever saw, and admires your strong way of doing things. Then you know a great deal about natural objects, and can tell him more wonderful tales of birds and bees, and leaves and animals, than his storybooks give him. And, being true, these stories will teach him and do him good. Don't you see how much you can help him, and why I like to have him with you? But I swear sometimes, and might tell him something wrong. I wouldn't mean to, but it might slip out just as Devil did a few minutes ago, said Dan, anxious to do his duty and let her know his shortcomings. I know you try not to say or do anything to harm the little fellow. And here is where I think Demi will help you, because he is so innocent and wise in his small way, and has what I am trying to give you, dear, good principles. It is never too early to try and plant them in a child, and never too late to cultivate them in the most neglected person. You are only boys yet. You can teach one another. Demi will unconsciously strengthen your moral sense. You will strengthen his common sense, and I shall feel as if I had helped you both. Words could not express how pleased and touched Dan was by this confidence and praise. No one had ever trusted him before. No one had cared to find out and foster the good in him. And no one had suspected how much there was hidden away in the breast of the neglected boy, going fast to ruin, yet quick to feel and value sympathy and help. No honour that he might earn hereafter would ever be half so precious as the right to teach his few virtues and small store of learning to the child whom he most respected. And no more powerful restraint could have been imposed upon him than the innocent companion confided to his care. He found courage now to tell Mrs. Joe of the plan already made with Demi, and she was glad that the first step had been so naturally taken. Everything seemed to be working well for Dan, and she rejoiced over him, because it had seemed a hard task, yet, working on with a firm belief in the possibility of reformation in far older and worse subjects than he, there had come this quick and hopeful change to encourage her. He felt that he had friends now, and a place in the world, and something to live and work for, and though he said little, all that was best and bravest in a character, made old by a hard experience, responded to the love and faith bestowed upon him, and Dan's salvation was assured. Their quiet talk was interrupted by a shout of delight from Teddy, who, to the surprise of everyone, did actually catch a trout, where no trout had been seen for years. He was so enchanted with his splendid success that he insisted on showing his prize to the family before Asia cooked it for supper, so the three descended and went happily away together, all satisfied with the work of that half hour. Ned was the next visitor to the tree, but he only made a short stay, sitting there at his ease while Dick and Dolly caught a pail full of grasshoppers and crickets for him. He wanted to play a joke on Tommy, and intended to tuck up a few dozen of the lively creatures in his bed, so that when bangs got in he would speedily tumble out again, and pass a portion of the night in chasing hopper grasses round the room. The hunt was soon over, and having paid the hunters with a few peppermints apiece, Ned retired to make Tommy's bed. For an hour the old Willow's side, and sung to itself, talked with the brook and watched the lengthening shadows as the sun went down. The first rosy color was touching its graceful branches when a boy came stealing up the avenue, across the lawn, and spying Billy by the brookside went to him, saying, in a mysterious tone, Go and tell Mr. Bear I want to see him down here, please. Don't let anyone hear. Don't let anyone hear. Billy nodded and ran off, while the boy swung himself up into the tree, and sat there looking anxious, yet evidently feeling the charm of the place an hour. In five minutes Mr. Bear appeared, and stepping up on the fence, leaned into the nest saying kindly, I'm glad to see you, Jack, but why not come in and meet us all at once? I wanted to see you first, please, sir. Uncle made me come back. I know I don't deserve anything, but I hope the fellows won't be hard upon me. Poor Jack did not get on very well, but it was evident that he was sorry and ashamed, and wanted to be received as easily as possible. For his uncle had thrashed him well, and scolded him soundly for following the example he himself had set. Jack had begged not to be sent back, but the school was cheap, and Mr. Ford insisted, so the boy returned as quietly as possible, and took refuge behind Mr. Bear. I hope not, but I can't answer for them, though I will see that they are not unjust. I think, as Dan and Nat have suffered so much being innocent, you should suffer something being guilty, don't you, asked Mr. Bear, pitying Jack, yet feeling he deserved punishment for a fault which had so little excuse. I suppose so, but I sent Tommy's money back, and I said I was sorry, isn't that enough, said Jack rather sullenly, for the boy who could do so mean a thing was not brave enough to bear the consequence as well. No, I think you should ask pardon of all three boys, openly and honestly. You cannot expect them to respect and trust you for a time, but you can live down this disgrace if you try, and I will help you. Stealing and lying are detestable sins, and I hope this will be a lesson to you. I am glad you are ashamed, it is a good sign. Bear it patiently and do your best to earn a better reputation. I'll have an auction and sell off all my goods dirt cheap, said Jack, showing his repentance in the most characteristic way. I think it would be better to give them away, and begin on a new foundation. Take honesty is the best policy for your motto, and live up to it in act and word and thought. And though you don't make a cent of money this summer, you will be a rich boy in the autumn, said Mr. Bear earnestly. It was hard, but Jack consented, for he really felt that cheating didn't pay, and wanted to win back the friendship of the boys. His heart clung to his possessions, and he groaned inwardly at the thought of actually giving away certain precious things. Asking pardon publicly was easy compared to this, but then he began to discover that certain other things, invisible but most valuable, were better property than knives, fish-hooks, or even money itself. So he decided to buy up a little integrity, even at a high price, and secure the respect of his playmates, though it was not a saleable article. Well, I'll do it, he said with a sudden air of resolution, which please Mr. Bear. Good, and I'll stand by you. Now come and begin at once. And Father Bear led the bankrupt boy back into the little world, which received him coldly at first, but slowly warmed to him, when he showed that he had profited by the lesson, and was sincerely anxious to go into a better business with a new stock in trade. What in the world is that boy doing, said Mrs. Joe to herself as she watched Dan running around the half-mile triangle, as if for a wager? He was all alone and seemed possessed by some strange desire to run himself into a fever, or break his neck, for after several rounds he tried leaping walls and turning somersaults up the avenue, and finally dropped down on the grass before the door, as if exhausted. Are you training for a race, Dan, asked Mrs. Joe from the window where she sat? He looked up quickly and stopped panting to answer with a laugh. No, I'm only working off my steam. Can't you find a cooler way of doing it? You will be ill if you tear about in such warm weather, said Mrs. Joe, laughing also, as she threw him out a great palm leaf fan. Can't help it, I must run somewhere, answered Dan, with such an odd expression in his restless eyes that Mrs. Joe was troubled and asked quickly, Is Plumfield getting too narrow for you? I wouldn't mind if it was a little bigger. I like it, though. Only the fact is the devil gets into me sometimes, and then I do want to bolt. The words seemed to come against his will, for he looked sorry the minute they were spoken, and seemed to think he deserved a reproof for his ingratitude. But Mrs. Joe understood the feeling, and though sorry to see it, she could not blame the boy for confessing it. She looked at him anxiously, seeing how tall and strong he had grown, how full of energy his face was, with its eager eyes and resolute mouth. Remembering the utter freedom he had known for years before, she felt how even the gentle restraint of this home would weigh upon him at times when the old lullous spirit stirred in him. Yes, she said to herself, my wild hawk needs a larger cage, and yet, if I let him go, I am afraid he will be lost. I must try and find some lure strong enough to keep him safe. I know all about it, she added aloud. It is not the devil, as you call it, but the very natural desire of all young people for liberty. I used to feel just so, and once I really did think for a minute that I would bolt. Why didn't you, said Dan, coming to lean on the low window ledge with an evident desire to continue the subject? I knew it was foolish, and love for my mother kept me at home. I haven't got any mother, began Dan. I thought you had now, said Mrs. Joe, gently stroking the rough hair off the hot forehead. You are no end good to me, and I can't ever thank you enough. But it just isn't the same, is it? And Dan looked up at her with a wistful, hungry look that went to her heart. No, dear, it is not the same, and never can be. I think an own mother would have been a great deal to you. But as that cannot be, you must try to let me feel her place. I fear I have not done all I ought, or you would not want to leave me, she added sorrowfully. Yes you have, cried Dan eagerly. I don't want to go, and I won't go if I can help it. But every now and then I feel as if I must burst out somehow. I want to run straight ahead somewhere, to smash something, or pitch into somebody. Don't know why, but I do, and that's all about it. Dan laughed as he spoke, but he meant what he said, for he knit his black brows and brought down his fist on the ledge with such force that Mrs. Joe's thimble flew off into the grass. He brought it back, and as she took it she held the big brown hand a minute, saying, with a look that showed the words cost her something. Well, Dan, run if you must, but don't run very far, and come back to me soon, for I want you very much. He was rather taken aback by this unexpected permission to play truant, and somehow it seemed a lesson his desire to go. He did not understand why, but Mrs. Joe did, and knowing the natural perversity of the human mind counted on it to help her now. She felt instinctively that the more the boy was restrained, the more he would fret against it. But leave him free, and the mere sense of liberty would content him, joined to the knowledge that his presence was dear to those whom he loved best. It was a little experiment, but it succeeded, for Dan stood silent a moment, unconsciously picking the fanned pieces, and turning the matter over in his mind. He felt that she appealed to his heart and his honour, and owned that he understood it by saying presently, with a mixture of regret and resolution in his face. I won't go yet a while, and I'll give you fair warning before I bolt. That's fair, isn't it? Yes, we will let it stand so.  What can we invent? And while Dan tried to repair the mischief he had done, Mrs. Joe racked her brain for some new device to keep her truant safe, until he had learned to love his lessons better. How would you like to be my express man, she said, as a sudden thought popped into her head. Going to town and do the errands, asked Dan, looking interested at once? Yes, Franz is tired of it. Silas cannot be spared just now, and Mr. Bear has no time. Old Andy is a safe horse.  Suppose you try it and see if it won't do most as well to drive away two or three times a week as to run away once a month. I'd like it ever so much. Only I must go alone and do it all myself. I don't want any of the other fellows bothering round, said Dan. Taking to the new idea so kindly that it began to put on business errors already. If Mr. Bear does not object you shall have it all your own way. I suppose E-mail will growl, but he cannot be trusted with horses, and you can.  You had better see that the wagon is in order until Silas to have the fruit and vegetables ready for mother. You will have to be up early and get back in time for school. Can you do that? I'm always an early bird, so I don't mind. And Dan slung on his jacket with dispatch. The early bird got the worm this time, I'm sure, said Mrs. Joe Merrily. And a jolly good worm it is, answered Dan, as he went laughing away to put a new lash to the whip, washed the wagon, and ordered Silas about with all the importance of a young expressman. Before he is tired of this I will find something else and have it ready when the next restless fit comes on, said Mrs. Joe to herself, as she wrote her list with a deep sense of gratitude that all her boys were not Dan's. Mr. Bear did not entirely approve of the new plan, but agreed to give it a trial, which put Dan on his medal, and caused him to give up certain wild plans of his own, in which the new lash and the long hill were to have borne apart. He was up and away very early the next morning, heroically resisting the temptation to race with the milkman going into town. Once there he did his errands carefully to Mr. Bear's surprise and Mrs. Joe's great satisfaction. The Commodore did growl at Dan's promotion, but was pacified by a superior padlock to his new boathouse, and the thought that seamen were meant for higher honors than driving market wagons and doing family errands. So Dan filled his new office well, and contentedly for weeks, and said no more about bolting. But one day Mr. Bear found him pummeling Jack, who was roaring for mercy under his knee. Why, Dan, I thought you had given up fighting, he said, as he went to the rescue. We ain't fighting, we are only wrestling, answered Dan, leaving off reluctantly. It looks very much like it and feels like it, hey, Jack, said Mr. Bear, as the defeated gentleman got upon his legs with difficulty.  The fact is we began in fun, but when I got him down I couldn't help pounding him. Sorry I hurt you, old fellow, explained Dan, looking rather ashamed of himself. I understand, the longing to pitch into somebody was so strong you couldn't resist. You are a sort of berserker, Dan, and something to tussle with is as necessary to you as music is to not, said Mr. Bear, who knew all about the conversation between the boy and Mrs. Joe.  If you want something to wrestle with I will give you a tougher specimen than Jack, said Mr. Bear, and leading the way to the woodyard he pointed out certain roots of trees that had been grubbed up in the spring and had been lying there waiting to be split. There, when you feel inclined to maltreat the boys just come and work off your energies here, and I'll thank you for it. So I will, and seizing the axe that lay near, Dan hauled out a tough root and went at it so vigorously that the chips flew far and wide, and Mr. Bear fled for his life. To his great amusement Dan took him at his word and was often seen wrestling with the ungainly knots, hat and jacket off, red face and wrathful eyes, for he got into royal rages over some of his adversaries, and swore at them under his breath till he had conquered them, when he exalted, and marched off to the shed with an armful of gnarled oak wood in triumph. He blistered his hands, tired his back, and dulled the axe, but it did him good, and he got more comfort out of the ugly roots than anyone dreamed, for with each blow he worked off some of the pent-up power that would otherwise have been expended in some less harmless way. When this is gone, I really don't know what I shall do, said Mrs. Joe to herself, for no inspiration came, and she was at the end of her resources. But Dan found a new occupation for himself, and enjoyed it some time before anyone discovered the cause of his contentment. A fine young horse of Mr. Laurie's was kept at Plumfield that summer, running loose in a large pasture across the brook. The boys were all interested in the handsome spirited creature, and for a time were fond of watching him gallop and frisk with his plumy tail flying in his handsome head in the air. But they soon got tired of it, and left Prince Charlie to himself. All but Dan, he never tired of looking at the horse, and seldom failed to visit him every day with a lump of sugar, a bit of bread, or an apple to make him welcome. Charlie was grateful, accepted his friendship, and the two loved one another as if they felt some tie between them. Inexplicable but strong. In whatever part of the wide field he might be, Charlie always came at full speed when Dan whistled at the bars, and the boy was never happier than when the beautiful fleet creature put its head on his shoulder looking up at him with fine eyes full of intelligent affection. We understand one another without any plover, don't we old fellow, Dan would say, proud of the horse's confidence, and so jealous of his regard that he told no one how well the friendship prospered, and never asked anybody but Teddy to accompany him on these daily visits. Mr. Laurie came now and then to see how Charlie got on, and spoke of having him broken to harness in the autumn. He won't need much taming, he is such a gentle, fine-tempered brute.  He lets me put a halter on him, but I don't believe he will bear a saddle even if you put it on, answered Dan, who never failed to be present when Charlie and his master met. I shall coax him to bear it, and not mind a few tumbles at first. He has never been harshly treated, so though he will be surprised at the new performance I think he won't be frightened, and his antics will do no harm. I wonder what he would do, said Dan to himself, as Mr. Laurie went away with a professor, and Charlie returned to the bars from which he had retired when the gentleman came up. A daring fancy to try the experiment took possession of the boy, as he sat on the topmost rail, with a glossy back temptingly near him. Never thinking of danger, he obeyed the impulse, and while Charlie unsuspectingly nibbled at the apple he held, Dan quickly and quietly took his seat. He did not keep it long, however, for with an astonished snort, Charlie reared straight up and deposited Dan on the ground. The fall did not hurt him, for the turf was soft, and he jumped up, saying with a laugh, I did it anyway, come here you rascal, and I'll try it again. But Charlie declined to approach, and Dan left him resolving to succeed in the end, for a struggle like this suited him exactly. Next time he took a halter, and having got it on he played with the horse for a while, leading him to and fro, and putting him through various antics till he was a little tired. Then Dan sat on the wall and gave him bread, but watched his chance, and getting a good grip on the halter slipped onto his back. Charlie tried the old trick. But Dan held on, having had practice with Toby, who occasionally had an obstinate fit, and tried to shake off his rider. Charlie was both amazed and indignant, and after prancing for a minute set off at a gallop and away went Dan heels overhead. If he had not belonged to the class of boys who go through all sorts of dangers unscathed, he would have broken his neck. As it was he got a heavy fall, and lay still collecting his wits, while Charlie tore round the field, tossing his head with every sign of satisfaction at the discomforture of his rider. Presently it seemed to occur to him that something was wrong with Dan, and being of a magnanimous nature he went to see what the matter was. Dan let him sniff about, and perplex himself for a few minutes. Then he looked up at him saying, as decidedly as if the horse could understand, You think you have beaten, but you are mistaken, old boy, and I'll ride you yet to see if I don't. He tried no more that day, but soon after attempted a new method of introducing Charlie to a burden. He strapped a folded blanket on his back, and then let him race and rear enrol, and fume as much as he liked. After a few fits of rebellion Charlie submitted, and in a few days permitted Dan to mount him, often stopped short to look round as if to say half patiently, half reproachfully. I don't understand it, but I suppose you mean no harm, so I permit the liberty. Dan padded and praised him, and took a short turn every day, getting frequent falls, but persisting in spite of them, and longing to try a saddle and bridle, but not daring to confess what he had done. He had his wish, however, for there had been a witness of his pranks, who said a good word for him. Do you know what that chap has been doing lately, asked Silas of his master one evening, as he received his orders for the next day? Which boy, said Mr. Bear, with the air of resignation, expecting some sad revelation? Dan, he's been a break in the colt, sir, and I wish him I'd die if he ain't done it, answered Silas Chuckling. How do you know? While I kinder keep an eye on the little fellers, and most generally know what they're up to. So when Dan kept going off to the pastor, and coming home black and blue, I mistrusted that something was going on. I didn't say nothing, but I crept up into the barn-chamber, and from there I see him going through all manner of games with Charlie. Blessed if he warn't throwed time and again, and knocked round like a bag of meal. But the pluck of that boy did beat all, and he peered to like it, and kept on as if bound to beat. But Silas, you should have stopped it, the boy might have been killed, said Mr. Bear, wondering what freak his irrepressibles would take into their heads next. Suppose I otter, but there weren't no real danger, for Charlie ain't no tricks, and is as pretty a tempered horse as ever I see. Fact was, I couldn't bear to smile the sport, for if there's anything I do admire it's grit, and Dan is chock full of it. But now I know he's a hankern after a saddle, and yet won't take even the old one on the sly. So I just thought I'd up and tell, and maybe you'd let him try what he can do. Mr. Laurie won't mind, and Charlie's all the better for it. We shall see. And off went Mr. Bear to inquire into the matter. Dan owned up at once, and proudly proved that Silas was right by showing off his power over Charlie. For by dint of much coaxing, many carrots, and infinite perseverance he really had succeeded in riding the colt with a halter and blanket. Mr. Laurie was much amused and well pleased with Dan's courage and skill, and let him have a hand in all future performances. For he said about Charlie's education at once, saying that he was not going to be outdone by a slip of a boy. Thanks to Dan Charlie took kindly to the saddle, and bridle, when he had once reconciled himself to the indignity of the bit. And after Mr. Laurie had trained him a little, Dan was permitted to ride him to the great envy and admiration of the other boys. Isn't he handsome?  Yes, and isn't he a much more useful and agreeable animal than the wild colt, who spent his days racing about the field, and running away now and then, asked Mrs. Bear from the steps, where she always appeared when Dan performed with Charlie? Of course he is. See, he won't run away now, even if I don't hold him, and he comes to me the minute I whistle. I have tamed him well, haven't I? And Dan looked both proud and pleased, as well he might. For in spite of their struggles together Charlie loved him better than his master. I am taming a colt too, and I think I shall succeed as well as you, if I am as patient and persevering, said Mrs. Joe, smiling so significantly at him that Dan understood and answered, laughing yet in earnest. We won't jump over the fence and run away, but stay and let them make a handsome useful span of us. Hey Charlie!