PS 
 
 3302 
 
 !F49
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES
 
 CALIF. LIBRARY. LOS ANGELED
 
 Kibrrsfoe ^Literature 
 
 FINDING A HOME 
 
 BY 
 
 KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN 
 
 543 
 
 BOSTON NEW YORK CHICAGO SAN FRANCISCO 
 
 HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1890, BY KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1894 AND 1907, BY HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 Cbe Storsfot $rt 
 
 CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS 
 PRINTED IN THE U . S . A
 
 ro 
 
 3301 
 
 PUBLISHERS' NOTE 
 
 "FINDING A HOME " is taken from Kate Douglas 
 Wiggin's book entitled " Timothy's Quest." The 
 publishers have no hesitation in presenting this de- 
 lightful little narrative to pupils and teachers, for 
 any child who is allowed to use this story in school 
 will have a pleasant memory of the reading periods 
 devoted to it, and will never forget the sturdy, 
 uncomplaining Timothy, the lively little Gay, and 
 the faithful Rags. 
 
 Books containing dialect are no longer unfavor- 
 ably regarded by public school authorities. One 
 mark of a good story is that it is true to the situa- 
 tions involved, and it would be wrong to deprive 
 the child of that great body of literature contain- 
 ing characterizations of people whose dialect adds 
 flavor and life to the story. As an aid to the 
 teaching of English, the occasional use of dialect 
 will reveal to the pupil provincialisms and sole- 
 cisms in his own speech, which being thus pointed 
 out are readily corrected. 
 
 It is believed that this story may be read with 
 interest and profit in all grades of the elementary 
 school above the fourth. High school students also 
 will read it with zest and appreciation. 
 
 2132893
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 SCENE I PAGE 
 
 LITTLE TIMOTHY ASSUMES PARENTAL RESPONSIBILITIES . i 
 
 SCENE II 
 TIMOTHY PLANS A CAMPAIGN 9 
 
 SCENE III 
 JABE SLOCUM ASSUMES THE PART OF GUARDIAN ANGEL 20 
 
 SCENE IV 
 
 TIMOTHY FINDS A HOUSE IN WHICH HE THINKS A BABY 
 IS NEEDED, BUT THE INMATES DO NOT ENTIRELY AGREE 
 
 WITH HIM 30 
 
 SCENE V 
 
 TIMOTHY, LADY GAY, AND RAGS PROVE FAITHFUL TO 
 ONE ANOTHER 37 
 
 SCENE VI 
 TIMOTHY RUNS AWAY 47 
 
 SCENE VII 
 
 THE FAITHFUL RAGS GUIDES Miss VILDA TO HIS LITTLE 
 MASTER 58
 
 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PACK 
 
 SAFE ON TIMOTHY'S SHOULDER 6 
 
 TIMOTHY SURVEYING THE SITUATION 9 
 
 "I THINK WE'LL GO THERE" 17 
 
 " WHICH WAY YER COIN', BUB ? " 23 
 
 " THAT MUST BE A COUNTRY DOORPLATE " 28 
 
 IN THE KITCHEN 33 
 
 TIMOTHY TELLING HIS STORY 35 
 
 TIMOTHY GOES TO SQUIRE BEAN'S 39 
 
 GAY'S TOILET 44 
 
 HOWLING AT THE MOON 62 
 
 HE KNEW MARIA 62 
 
 TIMOTHY'S QUEST is ENDED 66
 
 FINDING A HOME 
 
 SCENE I 
 
 Number Three, Minerva Court. First Floor back 
 
 LITTLE TIMOTHY ASSUMES PARENTAL 
 RESPONSIBILITIES 
 
 POOR, silly, wayward Flossy Morison was 
 dead, and the two women who had been 
 watching by her side were there only be- 
 cause there were no real friends to mourn her loss. 
 Mrs. Flossy Morison had not used her life in such 
 a way as to win friendship, and now there was no 
 one to say what should be done with the few poor 
 belongings she had left behind her; neither was 
 there any kind heart to decide what was happiest 
 for the two children who had been so mysteriously 
 dependent upon her care. Nobody cared from 
 whence they came, nor whither they were going ; 
 so the two watchers had hastily agreed to take the 
 boy to the nearest orphan asylum and the baby girl 
 to the Home of the Ladies' Protection and Relief 
 Society. 
 
 When the loud breathing of the sleeping women 
 fell on the stillness of the chamber beyond, the
 
 2 FINDING A HOME 
 
 chamber in which Flossy lay so strangely still, 
 a quiet figure crept out of the bed in the adjoin- 
 ing room and closed the door noiselessly but with 
 trembling fingers, stealing then to the window to 
 look out at the dirty street and the gray sky, over 
 which the first faint streaks of dawn were begin- 
 ning to creep. 
 
 It was little Timothy Jessup, but not the very 
 same Tim Jessup who had kissed the baby Gay in 
 her crib, and gone to sleep on his own hard bed 
 in that room, a few hours before. As he stood shiv- 
 ering at the window, one hand pressed upon his 
 heart to still its beating, there was a light of sud- 
 den resolve in his eyes, a new-born anxiety on his 
 unchildlike face. 
 
 " I will not have Gay protectioned and reliefed, 
 and I will not be taken away from her and sent to 
 a 'sylum, where I can never find her again ! " and 
 with these defiant words trembling, half spoken, on 
 his lips, he glanced from the unconscious form in 
 the crib to the cruel door, which might open at any 
 moment and divide him from his heart's delight, 
 his darling, his treasure, his own, own baby Gay. 
 
 But what should he do ? Run away : that was the 
 only solution of the matter, and no very difficult 
 one either. The women were asleep ; and no one 
 else in Minerva Court cared enough for him to 
 pursue him very far or very long. 
 
 "And so," thought Timothy swiftly, " I will get
 
 FINDING A HOME 3 
 
 things ready, take Gay, and steal softly out of the 
 back door, and run away to the 'truly' country, 
 where none of these bad people ever can find us, 
 and where I can get a mother for Gay ; somebody 
 to adopt her and love her till I grow up a man and 
 take her to live with me." 
 
 The moment this thought darted into Timothy's 
 mind, it began to shape itself in definite action. 
 
 Gabrielle, or Lady Gay, as Flossy always called 
 her, in honor of her favorite stage heroine, had 
 been tumbled into her crib half dressed the night 
 before. The only vehicle kept for her use in the 
 family stables was a clothes-basket, mounted on 
 four wooden wheels and cushioned with a dingy 
 shawl. A yard of clothes-line was tied to one end 
 of it, and in this humble conveyance the Princess 
 must needs be transported from the Ogre's castle ; 
 for she was scarcely old enough to accompany the 
 Prince on foot, even if he had dared to risk detec- 
 tion by waking her ; so the clothes-basket must 
 be her chariot, and Timothy her charioteer, as on 
 many a less fateful expedition. 
 
 After he had changed his ragged nightgown for 
 a shabby suit of clothes, he took Gay's one clean 
 apron out of a rickety bureau drawer (" for I can 
 never find a mother for her if she 's too dirty," he 
 thought), her Sunday hat from the same receptacle, 
 and last of all a comb, and a faded Japanese parasol 
 that stood in a corner. These he deposited under
 
 4 FINDING A HOME 
 
 the old shawl that decorated the floor of the chariot 
 He next groped his way in the dim light towards 
 a mantel-shelf, and took down a toy savings-bank, 
 a florid little structure with " Bank of England " 
 stamped over the miniature door, into which the 
 jovial gentlemen who frequented the house often 
 slipped pieces of silver for the children. 
 
 Now for provisions. There were plenty of cookies 
 in the kitchen, and he hastily gathered a dozen of 
 them into a towel, and stowed them in the coach 
 with the other sinews of war. 
 
 So far, well and good ; but the worst was to 
 come. With his heart beating in his bosom like a 
 trip-hammer, and his eyes dilated with fear, he 
 stepped to the door between the two rooms, and 
 opened it softly. Two thundering snores, pitched 
 in such different keys that they must have pro- 
 ceeded from two separate sets of nasal organs, reas- 
 sured the boy. He looked out into the alley. " Not 
 a creature was stirring, not even a mouse." Satis- 
 fied that all was well, Timothy went back to the 
 bedroom, and lifted the battered clothes-basket, 
 trucks and all, in his slender arms, carried it up 
 the alley and down the street a little distance, and 
 deposited it on the pavement beside a vacant lot. 
 This done, he sped back to the house. "How 
 beautifully they snore ! " he thought, as he stood 
 again on the threshold. "Shall I leave 'em a 
 letter ? . . . P'raps I 'd better ... and then they
 
 FINDING A HOME 5 
 
 won't follow us and bring us back." So he scrib- 
 bled a line on a bit of a torn paper bag, and pinned 
 it on the enemies' door. 
 
 " A kind Lady is goin to Adopt us 
 it is a Grate ways off so do not Hunt 
 good by. TIM." 
 
 Now all was ready. No ; one thing more. Timo- 
 thy had been met in the street by a pretty young 
 girl a few weeks before. The love of God was smil- 
 ing in her heart, the love of children shining in her 
 eyes ; and she led him, a willing captive, into a mis- 
 sion Sunday school near by. 
 
 Thinking, therefore, of Miss Dora's injunction to 
 pray over all the extraordinary affairs of life and as 
 many of the ordinary ones as possible, he hung his 
 tattered straw hat on the bedpost, and knelt beside 
 Gay's crib with this whispered prayer : 
 
 " Our Father, who art in heaven, please help me to 
 find a mother for Gay, one that she can call Mamma, 
 and another one for me, if there 's enough, but not 
 unless. Please excuse me for taking away the clothes- 
 basket, which does not exactly belong to us ; but if 
 I do not take it, dear heavenly Father, how will I 
 get Gay to the railroad? And if I don t take the 
 Japanese iimbrella she will get freckled, and nobody 
 will adopt her on account of her red hair. No more 
 at present, as I am in a great hurry. Amen''
 
 FINDING A HOME 
 
 He put on his hat, stooped over the sleeping 
 baby, and took her in his faithful arms, arms 
 that had never failed her yet. She half opened her 
 eyes, and seeing that she was 
 safe on her beloved Timothy's 
 shoulder, clasped her dimpled 
 arms tight about his neck, and 
 with a long sigh drifted off 
 again into the land of dreams. 
 Bending beneath her weight, 
 he stepped for the last time 
 across the threshold, not even 
 daring to close the door be- 
 hind him. 
 
 Up the alley and around the 
 corner he sped, as fast as his 
 trembling legs could carry him. 
 Just as he was within sight of 
 the goal of his ambition, that is, the chariot afore- 
 said, he fancied he heard the sound of hurrying feet 
 following him. To his fevered imagination the tread 
 was like that of an avenging army on the track 
 of the foe. He did not dare to look behind. On ! 
 for the clothes-basket and liberty ! He would relin- 
 quish the Japanese umbrella, the cookies, the comb, 
 and the apron, all the booty in fact, as an in- 
 ducement for the enemy to retreat, but he would 
 never give up the prisoner. 
 
 On the feet hurried, faster and faster. He stooped 
 
 Safe on Timothy's 
 Shoulder
 
 FINDING A HOME 7 
 
 to put Gay in the basket, and turned in despair to 
 meet his pursuers, when a little, grimy, rough-coated, 
 lop-eared, bob-tailed thing, like an animated rag- 
 bag, leaped upon his knees, whimpering with joy, 
 and imploring, with every grace that his simple 
 doggish heart could suggest, to be one of the elop- 
 ing party. 
 
 Rags had followed them ! 
 
 Timothy was so glad to find it no worse that he 
 wasted a moment in embracing the dog, whose 
 delirious joy at the prospect of this probably din- 
 nerless and supperless expedition was ludicrously 
 exaggerated. Then he took up the rope and trundled 
 the chariot gently down a side street leading to the 
 station. 
 
 Everything worked to a charm. They met only 
 an occasional milkman starting on his rounds, for 
 it was now four o'clock, and a sleepy boy or two 
 taking down the shutters of a grocery shop, but the 
 little fugitives were troubled with no questions as 
 to their intentions. 
 
 And so they went out into the world together, 
 these three : Timothy Jessup, brave little knight, 
 nameless nobleman, tracing his descent back to 
 God, the Father of us all, and bearing the Divine 
 likeness more than most of us; the tiny Lady 
 Gay somebody nobody anybody, from 
 nobody knows where, destination equally uncer- 
 tain ; % and Rags, of pedigree most doubtful, but a
 
 8 FINDING A HOME 
 
 perfect gentleman, true-hearted and loyal to the 
 core, in fact, an angel in fur. These three, with 
 the clothes-basket as personal property and the 
 Bank of England as security, went out to seek their 
 fortune ; and, unlike Lot's wife, without daring to 
 look behind, shook the dust of Minerva Court from 
 off their feet forever and forever.
 
 SCENE II 
 
 The Railway Station 
 TIMOTHY PLANS A CAMPAIGN 
 
 BY dint of skillful generalship, Timothy 
 gathered his forces on a green bank just 
 behind the railway station, cleared away a 
 sufficient number of tin cans and oyster-shells to 
 make a flat space for the chariot of war, which had 
 now become simply a cradle, and sat down, with 
 Rags curled up at his feet, to plan the campaign. 
 
 Timothy surveying the Situation 
 
 He pushed back the ragged hat from his waving 
 hair, and, clasping his knee with his hands, gazed 
 thoughtfully at the towering chimneys in the fore- 
 ground and the white-winged ships in the distant
 
 io FINDING A HOME 
 
 harbor. There was a glimpse of something like a 
 man's purpose in the sober eyes ; and as the morn- 
 ing sunlight fell upon his earnest face, the angel 
 in him came to the surface, and crowded the boy 
 part quite out of sight, as it has a way of doing 
 sometimes with children. 
 
 How some father-heart would have throbbed with 
 pride to own him, and how gladly lifted the too 
 heavy burden from his childish shoulders ! 
 
 Timothy Jessup, aged ten or eleven, or there- 
 abouts, Timothy Jessup, somewhat ragged, all for- 
 lorn, and none too clean at the present moment, 
 was a boy of strange notions, and the vocabu- 
 lary in which he expressed them was stranger 
 still ; furthermore, he had gentle manners, which 
 must have been indigenous, as they had certainly 
 never been cultivated ; and although he had been 
 in the way of handling pitch for many a day, it had 
 been helpless to defile him, such was the essential 
 purity of his nature. 
 
 To find a home and a mother for Lady Gay 
 had been Timothy's secret longing ever since he 
 had heard people say that Flossy might die. He had 
 once enjoyed all the comforts of a Home with a 
 capital H ; but it was the cosy one with the little 
 " h " that he so much desired for her. 
 
 Not that he had any ill treatment to remember 
 in the excellent institution of which he was for
 
 FINDING A HOME n 
 
 several years an inmate. The matron was an ami- 
 able and hard-working woman, who wished to do 
 her duty to all the children under her care ; but it 
 would be an inspired human being indeed who 
 could give a hundred and fifty motherless or father- 
 less children all the education and care and train- 
 ing they needed, to say nothing of the love that 
 they missed and craved. What wonder, then, that 
 an occasional hungry little soul starved for want of 
 something not provided by the management ; say, 
 a morning cuddle in father's bed or a ride on 
 father's knee, in short, the sweet daily jumble 
 of lap-trotting, gentle caressing, endearing words, 
 twilight stories, motherly tucks-in-bed, good-night 
 kisses, all the dear, simple, every-day accompa- 
 niments of the home with the little " h." 
 
 Timothy Jessup, bred in such an atmosphere, 
 would have gladdened every life that touched his 
 at any point. Plenty of wistful men and women 
 would have thanked God nightly on their knees 
 for the gift of such a son ; and here he was, sit- 
 ting on a tin can, bowed down with family cares, 
 not knowing under what roof he should sleep that 
 night. 
 
 As for the tiny Lady Gay, she had all the win- 
 some virtues to recommend her. No one ever feared 
 that she would die young out of sheer goodness. 
 You would not have loved her so much for what she
 
 12 FINDING A HOME 
 
 was as because you could not help yourself. This 
 feat once accomplished, she blossomed into a thou- 
 sand graces, each one more bewitching than the 
 last you noted. 
 
 Where did the child get her sunshiny nature ? 
 Born in wretchedness and poverty, she had brought 
 her "radiant morning visions " with her into the 
 world. 
 
 What if the room were desolate and bare ? The 
 yellow sunbeams stole through the narrow window, 
 and in the shaft of light they threw across the 
 dusty floor Gay played, oblivious of everything 
 save the flickering golden rays that surrounded 
 her. 
 
 The raindrops chasing each other down the dingy 
 pane, the snowflakes melting softly on the case- 
 ment, the brown leaf that the wind blew into her 
 lap as she sat on the sidewalk, the chirp of the little 
 beggar-sparrows over the cobblestones, all these 
 brought as eager a light into her baby eyes as the 
 costliest toy. With no earthly father or mother to 
 care for her, she seemed to be God's special charge, 
 and He amused her in his own good way ; first, by 
 locking her happiness within her own soul (the only 
 place where it is ever safe for a single moment), and 
 then by putting her under Timothy's paternal minis- 
 trations. 
 
 Timothy's mind traveled back over the past, as
 
 FINDING A HOME 13 
 
 he sat among the tin cans and looked at Rags and 
 Gay. It was a very small story, if he ever found any 
 one who would care to hear it. There was a long 
 journey in a great ship, a wearisome illness of many 
 weeks, or was it months ? when his curls had 
 been cut off, and all his memories with them ; then 
 there was the Home ; then there was Flossy, who 
 came to take him away ; and then oh, bright, bright 
 spot ! oh, blessed time ! there was baby Gay ; then, 
 last of all, there was Minerva Court. But he did 
 not give many minutes to reminiscence. He first 
 broke open the toy Bank of England, and threw it 
 away, after finding to his joy that their fortune 
 amounted to one dollar and eighty-five cents. This 
 was so much in advance of his expectations that he 
 laughed aloud ; and Rags, wagging his tail with such 
 vigor that he nearly broke it in two, jumped into 
 the cradle and woke the baby. 
 
 Then there was a happy family circle, you may 
 believe me, and with good reason, too ! A trip to 
 the country (meals and lodging uncertain, but that 
 was a trifle), a sight of green meadows where Tim 
 would hear real birds sing in the trees, and Gay 
 would gather wild flowers, and Rags would chase, 
 and perhaps who knows? catch, toothsome 
 squirrels and fat little field-mice, of which the coun- 
 try dogs visiting Minerva Court had told the most 
 mouth-watering tales. Gay's transport knew no
 
 i 4 FINDING A HOME 
 
 bounds. Her child-heart felt no regret for the past, 
 no care for the present, no anxiety for the future. 
 The only world she cared for was in her sight ; and 
 she had never, in her brief experience, gazed upon 
 it with more radiant anticipation than on this sunny 
 June morning, when she had opened her bright 
 eyes on a pleasant, odorous bank of oyster-shells, 
 instead of on the accustomed surroundings of Min- 
 erva Court. 
 
 Breakfast was first in order. 
 
 There was a pump conveniently near, and the oys- 
 ter-shells made capital cups. Gay had three cook- 
 ies, Timothy two, and Rags one ; but there was no 
 statute of limitations placed on the water ; every 
 one had as much as he could drink. 
 
 The little matter of toilets came next. Timothy 
 took the dingy rag which did duty for a handker- 
 chief, and calling the pump again into requisi- 
 tion, scrubbed Gay's face and hands tenderly but 
 firmly. Her clothes were then all smoothed down 
 tidily, but the clean apron was kept for the event- 
 ful moment when her future mother should first 
 be allowed to behold the form of her adopted 
 child. 
 
 The comb was then brought out, and her mop 
 of red-gold hair was assisted to fall in wet spirals 
 all over her lovely head, which always "wiggled" 
 too much for any more formal style of hair-dressing
 
 FINDING A HOME 15 
 
 Her Sunday hat being tied on as the crowning 
 glory, this lucky little princess, this child of For- 
 tune, so inestimably rich in her own opinion, was 
 returned to the clothes-basket in which she had 
 begun her journey, and there she endeavored to 
 keep quiet until the next piece of delightful un- 
 expectedness should rise from fairy-land upon her 
 excited gaze. 
 
 Timothy and Rags now went to the pump, and 
 Rags was held under the spout. This was a new 
 and bitter experience, and he wished for a few brief 
 moments that he had never joined the noble army 
 of deserters, but had stayed where dirt was fashion- 
 able. Being released, the sense of abnormal clean- 
 liness mounted to his brain, and he tore breathlessly 
 around in a circle seventy-seven times without stop- 
 ping. But this only dried his hair and amused Gay, 
 who was beginning to find the basket confining, 
 and who clamored for " Timfy " to take her to 
 "yide." Timothy attended to himself last, as usual. 
 He put his own head under the pump, and scrubbed 
 his face and hands heartily ; then he combed his hair, 
 pulled up his stockings and tied his shoes neatly, 
 buttoned his jacket closely over his shirt, and was 
 just pinning up the rent in his hat, when Rags con- 
 siderately brought another suggestion in the shape 
 of an old chicken-wing, with which Tim brushed 
 every speck of dust from his clothes. This done.
 
 1 6 FINDING A HOME 
 
 and being no respecter of persons, he took the 
 family comb to Rags, who woke the echoes during 
 the operation, and hoped that the squirrels would 
 run slowly and that the field-mice would be very 
 tender, to pay him for this. 
 
 It was now nearly eight o'clock, and the party 
 descended the hillside and entered the side door of 
 the station. 
 
 The day's work had long since begun, and there 
 was the usual din and uproar of railroad traffic. 
 Trucks, laden high with boxes and barrels, were 
 being driven to the wide doors, and porters were 
 thundering and thumping and lurching the freight 
 from one set of cars into another ; their primary 
 object being to make a racket and demolish raw 
 material, thereby increasing manufacture and ex- 
 port, but incidentally to load or unload as much 
 freight as possible in a given time. 
 
 Timothy entered, trundling his carriage, where 
 Lady Gay sat enthroned like a fashionable belle on 
 a dog-cart, conscious pride of Sunday hat on week- 
 day morning exuding from every feature ; and Rags 
 followed close behind, clean, but with a crushed 
 spirit, which he could stimulate only by the most 
 delightful imaginations. No one molested them, for 
 Timothy was very careful not to get in any one's 
 way. Finally, he drew up in front of a high black- 
 board, on which the names of various way-stations 
 were printed in gold letters.
 
 S* 
 
 '.OA... ^^ 
 
 FINDING A HOME 17 
 
 "The names get nicer and 
 nicer as you read down the line, 
 and the furtherest one of all is 
 the very prettiest, so I think we '11 
 go there," thought Timothy, not 
 realizing that his choice was based 
 on most insecure foundations ; and 
 that, for aught he knew, the milk 
 of human kindness might have 
 more cream on it at Scratch 
 Corner than at Pleas- 
 ant River, though the 
 latter name was cer- 
 tainly more attractive. 
 Gay approved of 
 
 " / think vie '8 go there " 
 
 Pleasant River, and so did Rags; and Timothy moved 
 off down the station to a place on the open platform 
 where a train of cars stood ready for starting, the 
 engine at the head gasping and puffing and breath- 
 ing as hard as if it had an acute attack of asthma.
 
 1 8 FINDING A HOME 
 
 " How much does it cost to go to Pleasant River, 
 please ? " asked Tim, boldly, of a kind-looking man 
 in a blue coat and brass buttons, who stood by the 
 cars. 
 
 "This is a freight train, sonny," replied the 
 man ; " takes four hours to get there. Better wait 
 till 10.45 J buy your ticket up in the station." 
 
 " 10.45 " Tim saw visions of Mrs. Simmons 
 speeding down upon him in hot pursuit, kindled 
 by Gay's disappearance into an appreciation of her 
 charms. 
 
 The tears stood in his eyes as Gay clambered 
 out of the basket, and danced with impatience, ex- 
 claiming, " Gay wants to yide now ! yide now ! yide 
 now." 
 
 " Did you want to go sooner ? " asked the man, who 
 seemed to be entirely too much interested in human- 
 ity to succeed in the railroad business. " Well, as you 
 seem to have consid'rable of a family on your hands, 
 I guess we '11 take you along. Jim, unlock that car 
 and let these children in, and then lock it up again. 
 It 's a car we 're taking up to the end of the road 
 for repairs, bubby, so the comp'ny '11 give you and 
 your folks a free ride ! " 
 
 Timothy thanked the man in his politest manner, 
 and Gay pressed a piece of moist cooky into his hand, 
 and offered him one of her swan's-down kisses, a 
 favor of which she was usually as chary as if it had 
 possessed a market value.
 
 FINDING A HOME 19 
 
 " Are you going to take the dog ? " asked the man, 
 as Rags darted up the steps with sniffs and barks 
 of ecstatic delight. " He ain't so handsome but you 
 can get another easy enough ! " (Rags held his 
 breath in suspense, and wondered if he had been 
 put under a roaring cataract, and then plowed in 
 deep furrows with a sharp-toothed instrument of 
 torture, only to be left behind at last !) 
 
 " That 's just why I take him," said Timothy ; 
 " because he is n't handsome and has nobody else 
 to love him." 
 
 (" Not a very polite reason," thought Rags ; " but 
 anything to go ! ") 
 
 " Well, jump in, dog and all, and they '11 give you 
 the best free ride to the country you ever had in 
 your life ! Tell 'em it 's all right, Jim ; " and the 
 train steamed out of the depot, while the kind man 
 waved his bandana handkerchief until the children 
 were out of sight 
 
 .
 
 SCENE III 
 
 Pleasant River 
 
 JABE SLOCUM ASSUMES THE PART OF GUARDIAN 
 ANGEL 
 
 JABE SLOCUM had been down to Edgewood, 
 and was just returning to the White Farm, 
 by way of the cross-roads and Hard Scrabble 
 school-house. He was in no hurry, though he 
 always had more work on hand than he could leave 
 undone for a month ; and Maria also was taking her 
 own time, as usual, even stopping now and then to 
 crop an unusually sweet tuft of grass that grew 
 within smelling distance, and which no mare with a 
 driver like Jabe could afford to pass without notice. 
 Jabe was ostensibly out on an errand for Miss 
 Avilda Cummins ; but, as he had been in her service 
 for six years, she had no expectations of his accom- 
 plishing anything beyond getting to a place and 
 getting back in the same day, the distance covered 
 being no factor at all in the matter. 
 
 But one need not go to Miss Avilda Cummins for 
 a description of Jabe Slocum's peculiarities. They 
 were all so written upon his face and figure and 
 speech that the wayfaring man, though a fool, could 
 not err in his judgment. He was a long, loose, knock-
 
 FINDING A HOME 21 
 
 kneed, slack-twisted person, and would have been 
 " longer yet if he had n't had so much turned up 
 for feet," so Aunt Hitty Tarbox said. (Aunt 
 Hitty went from house to house in Edgewood and 
 Pleasant River, making over boy's clothes ; and as 
 her tongue flew as fast as her needle, her sharp 
 speeches were always in circulation in both villages.) 
 
 Mr. Slocum had sandy hair, high cheek-bones, 
 a pair of kindly blue eyes, and a most unique nose : 
 it is hard to say to what order of architecture it be- 
 longed, perhaps Old Colonial would describe it 
 as well as anything else. It was a wide, flat, well- 
 ventilated, hospitable edifice (so to speak), so pecul- 
 iarly constructed and applied that Samantha Ann 
 Ripley declared that " the reason Jabe Slocum 
 ketched cold so easy was that, if he did n't hold 
 his head jest so, it kep' a-rainin' in on him ! " 
 
 His mouth was simply an enormous opening in 
 his face, and served all the purposes for which a 
 mouth is presumably intended, save, perhaps, the 
 trivial one of decoration. 
 
 As Jabe had passed the store, a few minutes 
 before, one of the boys had called out facetiously, 
 " Shut yer mouth when ye go by the deepot, Laigs ; 
 the train 's comin' in ! " But he only smiled placidly, 
 though it was an ancient joke, the flavor of which 
 had just fully penetrated the rustic skull, and the 
 villagers could not resist jogging the sense of 
 humor with it once or twice a month.
 
 22 FINDING A HOME 
 
 Jabe was a man of tolerable education ; the only 
 son of his parents, who had endeavored to make 
 great things of him, and might perhaps have 
 succeeded, if he had not always had so little time 
 at his disposal, had n't been " so drove," as he 
 expressed it. He went to the village school as 
 regularly as he could n't help, that is, as many days 
 as he could n't contrive to stay away, until he was 
 fourteen. From there he was sent to the Academy, 
 three miles distant ; but his mother soon found 
 that he could not make the two trips a day and 
 be " under cover by candlelight ; " so the plan of 
 a classical education was abandoned, and he was 
 allowed to speed the home plow, a profession 
 which he pursued with such moderation that his 
 father, when starting him down a furrow in the 
 morning, used to hang his dinner-pail on his arm, 
 and, bidding him good-by, beg him, with tears in 
 his eyes, to be back before sundown. 
 
 At the present moment Jabe was enjoying a quid 
 of old Virginia plug tobacco, and taking in no more 
 of the landscape than he could avoid, when Maria, 
 having wound up to the top of Berry's hill in spite 
 of herself, walked directly out on one side of the 
 road, and stopped short to make room for the pas- 
 sage of an imposing procession, made up of one 
 straw phaeton, one baby, one strange boy, and one 
 strange dog. 
 
 Jabe eyed the party with some placid interest.
 
 FINDING A HOME 
 
 A 
 
 for he loved children, but with no undue excitement. 
 
 Shifting his huge quid, he inquired in his usual 
 leisurely manner, " Which way 
 yer goin', bub, to the Swamp 
 or to the Falls?" 
 
 Timothy thought neither 
 sounded especially inviting, 
 but, rapidly choosing the lesser 
 evil, replied, "To the Falls, 
 sir." 
 
 "Thy way hap- 
 pens to be my way, 
 
 's Ruth said to 
 
 Naomi ; so if gittin' 
 
 over the road 's your 
 
 objeck, 'n' y' ain't 
 
 pertickler 'baout the 
 
 gait ye travel, ye 
 
 can git in 'n' ride 
 
 a piece. We don't 
 
 b'lieve in hurryin', 
 
 Mariar 'n' me. Slow 'n' easy goes fur in a day, 's 
 
 our motto. Can ye git your folks aboard withaout 
 
 spill in' any of 'em ? " 
 
 No wonder he asked, for Gay was in such a wild 
 
 state of excitement that she could hardly be held, 
 " I can lift Gay up, if you '11 please take her, 
 
 sir," said Timothy ; "and if you 're quite sure the 
 
 horse will stand still." 
 
 Which way yer goti
 
 24 FINDING A HOME 
 
 " Bless your soul, she "11 stan' all right ; she likes 
 stan'in' a heap better 'n she does goin' ; runnin' 
 away ain't no temptation to Maria Cummins; let 
 well enough alone 's her motto. Jump in, sissy ! 
 There ye be ! Now git yer baby shay in the back of 
 the wagon, bubby, 'n' we '11 be 's snug 's eggs in a 
 nest." 
 
 Timothy, whose creed was simple and whose 
 beliefs were crystal clear, now felt that his morning 
 prayer had been heard ; so he abandoned all idea 
 of commanding the situation, and gave himself up 
 to the full ecstasy of the ride, as they jogged peace- 
 fully along the river road. 
 
 Gay held a piece of a rein that peeped from Jabe's 
 colossal hand and was convinced that she was driv- 
 ing Maria, an idea that made her speechless with joy. 
 
 Rags' wildest dreams of squirrels came true ; 
 and, reconciled at length to cleanliness, he was 
 capering in and out of the woods, thinking what an 
 Arabian Nights' entertainment he would give the 
 Minerva Court dogs when he returned, if return he 
 ever must to that miserable, squirrelless hole. 
 
 The meadows on the other side of the river were 
 gorgeous with yellow buttercups, and here and there 
 a patch of blue iris or wild sage. The black cherry 
 trees were masses of snowy bloom ; the water at 
 the river's edge held spikes of blue arrowweed in 
 its crystal shallows ; while the roadside itself was 
 gay with daisies and feathery grasses.
 
 FINDING A HOME 25 
 
 Suddenly (a word that could seldom be truthfully 
 applied to the description of Jabe Slocum's move- 
 ments) the reins were ruthlessly drawn from Lady 
 Gay's hands and wound about the whipstock. 
 
 "There!" ejaculated Mr. Slocum, "ef I hain't 
 left the widder Foss settin' on Aunt Kitty's hoss- 
 block, 'n' I promised to pick her up when I come 
 along back ! That all comes o' my drivin' by the 
 store so fast on account o' the boys hectorin' of me, 
 so't when I got to the turn I was so kind of nerved 
 up I jogged right along the straight road. Haste 
 makes waste 's an awful good motto. Pile out, young 
 ones ! It 's only half a mile from here to the Falls, 
 'n' you '11 have to get there on shank's mare ! " 
 
 So saying, he dumped the astonished children 
 into the middle of the road, from whence he had 
 plucked them, turned the docile mare, and with a 
 " Git, Mariar ! " went four miles back to relieve 
 Aunt Kitty's horse-block from the weight of the 
 widder Foss. 
 
 This turn of affairs was most unexpected, and 
 Gay seemed on the point of tears ; but Timothy 
 gathered her a handful of wild flowers, wiped the 
 dust from her face, put on the clean blue gingham 
 apron, and established her in the basket, where she 
 soon fell asleep, wearied by the excitements of the 
 day. 
 
 Timothy's heart began to be a little troubled 
 as he walked on and on through the leafy woods,
 
 26 FINDING A HOME 
 
 trundling the basket behind him. Nothing had gone 
 wrong; indeed, everything had been much easier 
 than he could have hoped. Perhaps it was the weari- 
 ness that had crept into his legs, and the hollow- 
 ness that began to appear in his stomach; but, 
 somehow, although in the morning he had expected 
 to find adopted mothers beckoning from every win- 
 dow, so that he could scarcely choose between them, 
 he now felt as if the whole race of mothers had 
 suddenly become extinct. 
 
 Soon the village came in sight, nestled in the 
 laps of the green hills on both sides of the river. 
 Timothy trudged bravely on, scanning all the 
 dwellings, but finding none of them just the thing. 
 At last he turned deliberately off the main road, 
 where the houses seemed too near together and too 
 near the street for his taste, and trundled his fam- 
 ily down a shady sort of avenue, over which the 
 arching elms met and clasped hands. 
 
 Rags had by this time lowered his tail to half- 
 mast, and kept strictly to the beaten path, not- 
 withstanding manifold temptations to forsake it. 
 He passed two cats without a single insulting re- 
 mark, and his entire demeanor was eloquent of 
 homesickness. 
 
 " Oh, dear ! " sighed Timothy disconsolately ; 
 "there's something wrong with all the places. 
 Either there 's no pigeon-house, like in all the pic- 
 tures or no flower garden, or no chickens, or no
 
 FINDING A HOME 27 
 
 lady at the window, or else there 's lots of baby- 
 clothes hanging on the wash-lines. I don't believe 
 I shall ever find " 
 
 At this moment a large, comfortable white house, 
 that had been heretofore hidden by great trees, 
 came into view. Timothy drew nearer to the spot- 
 less picket fence, and gazed' upon the beauties of 
 the side yard and the front garden, gazed and 
 gazed, and fell desperately in love at first sight. 
 
 The whole thing had been made as if to order; 
 that is all there is to say about it. There was an 
 orchard, and, oh, ecstasy ! what hosts of green ap- 
 ples ! There was an interesting grindstone under 
 one tree, and a bright blue chair and stool un- 
 der another ; a thicket of currant and gooseberry 
 bushes ; and a flock of young turkeys ambling awk- 
 wardly through the barn. Timothy stepped gently 
 along in the thick grass, past a pump and a mossy 
 trough, till a side porch came into view, with a 
 woman sitting there sewing bright-colored rags. A 
 row of shining tin pans caught the sun's rays, and 
 threw them back in a thousand glittering prisms 
 of light ; the grasshoppers and crickets chirped 
 sleepily in the warm grass, and a score of tiny 
 yellow butterflies hovered over a group of odorous 
 hollyhocks. 
 
 Suddenly the person on the porch broke into this 
 cheerful song, which she pitched in so high a key 
 and gave with such emphasis that the crickets and
 
 28 FINDING A HOME 
 
 grasshoppers retired by mutual consent from any 
 further competition, and the butterflies suspended 
 operations for several seconds : 
 
 " I '11 chase the antelope over the plain, 
 The tiger's cub I '11 bind with a chain, 
 And the wild gazelle with its silv'ry feet 
 I '11 bring to thee for a playmate sweet." 
 
 Timothy listened intently for some moments, but 
 could not understand the words, unless the lady 
 happened to be in the menagerie business, which he 
 thought unlikely, but delightful should it prove true. 
 
 His eye then fell on a little marble slab under a 
 tree in a shady corner of the orchard. 
 
 " That must be a country doorplate," he thought; 
 "yes, it's got the lady's name, 'Martha Cummins,' 
 printed on it. Now I '11 know what to call her." 
 
 " That must be a. country doorplaU ' 
 
 He crept softly on to the front side of the house. 
 There were flower beds, a lovable white cat snooz-
 
 FINDING A HOME 29 
 
 ing on the doorsteps, and a lady sitting at the 
 open window knitting ! 
 
 At this vision Timothy's heart beat so hard 
 against his dusty jacket that he could only stag- 
 ger back to the basket, where Rags and Lady Gay 
 were snuggled together, fast asleep. He anxiously 
 scanned Gay's face ; moistened his rag of a hand- 
 kerchief, scrubbed an atrocious dirt spot from the 
 tip of her spirited nose, and then, dragging the 
 basket along the path leading to the front gate, 
 he opened it and went in, mounted the steps, 
 plied the brass knocker, and waited in childlike 
 faith for a summons to enter and make himself at 
 home.
 
 SCENE IV 
 
 The White Farm. Afternoon 
 
 TIMOTHY FINDS A HOUSE IN WHICH HE THINKS 
 A BABY IS NEEDED, BUT THE INMATES DO NOT 
 ENTIRELY AGREE WITH HIM 
 
 MEANWHILE, Miss Avilda Cummins 
 had left her window and gone into the 
 next room for a skein of yarn. She 
 answered the knock, however ; and, opening the 
 door, stood rooted to the threshold in speechless 
 astonishment, very much as if she had seen the 
 ghosts of her ancestors drawn up in line in the 
 dooryard. 
 
 Off went Timothy's hat. He had n't seen the 
 lady's face very clearly when she was knitting at the 
 window, or he would never have dared to knock ; but 
 it was too late to retreat. Looking straight into her 
 cold eyes with his own shining gray ones, he said 
 bravely, but with a trembling voice, " Do you need 
 any babies here, if you please?" (Need any babies! 
 What an inappropriate, nonsensical expression, to 
 be sure ; as if a household baby were something 
 exquisitely indispensable, like the breath of life, for 
 instance !) 
 No answer. Miss Vilda was trying to assume
 
 FINDING A HOME 31 
 
 command of her scattered faculties and find some 
 clue to the situation. Timothy concluded that she 
 was not, after all, the lady of the house ; and, re- 
 membering the marble doorplate in the orchard, 
 tried again. " Does Miss Martha Cummins live 
 here, if you please ? " 
 
 " What do you want ? " Miss Vilda faltered, for 
 Martha was her younger sister, dead these many 
 years. 
 
 " I want somebody to adopt my baby," he said ; 
 " if you have n't got any of your own, you could n't 
 find one half as dear and as pretty as she is ; and 
 you need n't have me too, you know, unless you 
 should need me to help take care of her." 
 
 " You 're very kind," Miss Avilda answered sar- 
 castically, preparing to shut the door upon the 
 strange child; "but I don't think I care to adopt 
 any babies this afternoon, thank you. You 'd better 
 run right back home to your mother if you 've got 
 one, and know where 't is, anyhow." 
 
 " But I I have n't ! " cried poor Timothy, with 
 a sudden and unpremeditated burst of tears at the 
 failure of his hopes ; for he was half child as well 
 as half hero. At this juncture Gay opened her 
 eyes, and cried at the unwonted sight of Timothy's 
 grief : and Rags, who was quite ready to weep with 
 those who wept, lifted up his woolly head and added 
 his piteous wails to the concert. 
 
 " Samanthy Ann ! " called Miss Vilda excitedly ;
 
 32 FINDING A HOME 
 
 " Samanthy Ann Ripley ! Come right in here and 
 iell me what to do ! " 
 
 The person thus adjured flew in from the porch, 
 leaving a serpentine trail of red, yellow, and blue 
 rags in her wake. " Land o' liberty ! " she exclaimed, 
 as she surveyed the group. " Where 'd they come 
 from, and what are they tryin' to act out ? " 
 
 " This boy 's a baby agent, as near as I can under- 
 stand ; he wants I should adopt this red-headed 
 young one, but says I ain't obliged to take him 
 too, and pretends they haven't got any home. I 
 told him I wa'n't adoptin' any babies just now, and 
 at that he burst out cryin', and the other two fol- 
 lowed suit. Now, have the three of 'em just escaped 
 from some asylum, or are they too little to be luna- 
 tics ? " 
 
 Timothy dried his tears, in order that Gay should 
 be comforted and appear at her best, and said 
 penitently : " I cried before I thought, because Gay 
 has n't had anything but cookies since last night, 
 and she '11 have no place to sleep unless you '11 let 
 us stay here just till morning. We went by all the 
 other houses, and chose this one because everything 
 was so beautiful." 
 
 "Nothin' but cookies sence Land o' liberty ! " 
 ejaculated Samantha Ann, starting for the kitchen. 
 
 " Come back here, Samanthy ! Don't you leave 
 me alone with 'em, and don't let 's have all the 
 neighbors runnin' in. You take 'em into the kitchen
 
 FINDING A HOME 
 
 33 
 
 and give 'em somethin' to eat, and we '11 see about 
 the rest afterwards." 
 
 Gay kindled at the first casual mention of food ; 
 and, trying to clamber out of the basket, fell over 
 the edge, thumping 
 her head smartly on 
 the stone steps. Miss 
 Vilda covered her face 
 with her hands, and 
 waited shudderingly 
 for another yell, as 
 the child's crimson 
 stockings and golden 
 head mingled wildly 
 in the air. But Lady 
 Gay disentangled her- 
 self, and laughed the merriest burst of laughter that 
 ever woke the echoes. That was a joke ; her life 
 was full of them, served fresh every day ; for no 
 sort of adversity could long have power over such 
 a nature as hers. 
 
 Miss Avilda tottered into the darkened sitting- 
 room and sank on to a black haircloth sofa, while 
 Samantha ushered the wanderers into the sunny 
 kitchen, muttering to herself: "Well, I vow! trav- 
 elin' over the country all alone, 'n' not knee-high 
 to a toad ! They 're sendin' out awful young tramps 
 this season, but they shan't go away hungry, if I 
 know it." 
 
 In the Kitchen
 
 34 FINDING A HOME 
 
 Accordingly, she set out a plentiful supply of 
 bread and butter, gingerbread, pie, and milk, put 
 a tin plate of cold hash in the shed for Rags, and 
 swept him out to it with a corn broom, as is the 
 habit in that part of the country, and then returned 
 to the sitting-room. 
 
 " Now, whatever makes you so panicky, Vildy ? 
 Did n't you never see a tramp before, for pity's sake ? 
 And if you 're scared for fear I can't handle 'em 
 alone, why, Jabe '11 be comin' along soon. The 
 prospeck of gittin' to bed 's the only thing that '11 
 make him 'n' Maria hurry ; V they '11 both be 
 thinkin' about that by this time ! You jest lay 
 down and snuff your camphire, an' I '11 go out an' 
 interview that boy an' that baby an' that dog until 
 I find out everything about 'em there is to know ! " 
 
 Now, Samantha Ann Ripley was a spinster purely 
 by accident. She had seldom been exposed to the 
 witcheries of children, or she would have known 
 long before this that, so far as she was personally 
 concerned, they would always prove irresistible. 
 She marched into the kitchen like a general resolved 
 upon the extinction of the enemy. She walked out 
 again, half an hour later, with the very teeth of her 
 resolve drawn, but so painlessly that she had not 
 been aware of the operation ! She marched in a 
 woman of a single purpose ; she came out a double- 
 faced diplomatist, with the seeds of sedition and 
 conspiracy lurking, all unsuspected, in her heart.
 
 FINDING A HOME 
 
 35 
 
 The cause ? Nothing more than a dozen trifles 
 as light as air. Timothy had sat upon a little 
 wooden stool at her feet ; and, resting his arms on 
 her knees, had looked up into her kind, rosy face 
 with a pair of liquid eyes like gray-blue lakes, eyes 
 which seemed and were the very' windows of his 
 soul. He had sat there telling his wee bit of a 
 story ; just a vague, shadowy, plaintive, uncom- 
 plaining scrap of a story, without beginning, plot, 
 or ending, but every word in it set Samantha Ann 
 Ripley's heart throbbing. 
 
 And Gay, who knew a good thing when she saw 
 it, had climbed up into her capacious lap, and, not 
 being denied, had 
 cuddled her head 
 into that gracious 
 hollow in Saman- 
 tha's shoulder, 
 that had somehow 
 missed the pres- 
 sure of the child- 
 ish heads that 
 should have lain 
 there. Then Sa- 
 mantha' s arm 
 had finally crept 
 round the deli- 
 cious scrap of soft humanity, and before she knew 
 it her chair was swaying gently to and fro, to and 
 
 Timothy telling his Story
 
 3 6 FINDING A HOME 
 
 fro, to and fro ; and the wooden rockers creaked 
 more sweetly than ever they had creaked before, for 
 they were singing their first cradle song ! 
 
 Then Gay heaved a great sigh of unspeakable 
 satisfaction, and closed her lovely eyes. She had 
 been born with a desire to be petted, and had had 
 precious little experience of it. At the sound of 
 this happy sigh and the sight of the child's flower 
 face, with the upward curling lashes on the pink 
 cheeks, the moist tendrils of hair on the white fore- 
 head, and the helpless, clinging touch of the baby 
 arm about her neck, I cannot tell you the why or 
 wherefore, but old memories and new desires began 
 to stir in Samantha Ann Ripley's heart. In short, 
 she had met the enemy, and she was theirs !
 
 SCENE V 
 
 The White Farm. Evening 
 
 TIMOTHY, LADY GAY, AND RAGS PROVE 
 FAITHFUL TO ONE ANOTHER 
 
 WELL, what do you advise doin' ? " 
 asked Miss Cummins nervously, when 
 Samantha found her in the sitting-room 
 a half hour later. 
 
 " I don't feel comp'tent to advise, Vilda ; the house 
 ain't mine, nor yet the beds that's in it, nor the vict- 
 uals in the pantry ; but as a professin' Christian and 
 member of the Orthodox Church in good and reg'lar 
 standin' you can't turn 'em outdoors when it 's 
 comin' on dark and they ain't got no place to sleep." 
 
 " I don't propose to take in two strange children 
 and saddle myself with 'em for days, or weeks, per- 
 haps," said Miss Cummins coldly, " but I tell you 
 what I will do. Supposin' we send the boy over 
 to Squire Bean's. It 's near hayin' time, and the 
 Squire may take him in to help rake up. Then 
 we '11 tell the boy before he goes that we '11 keep 
 the baby as long as he gets a chance to work any- 
 wheres near. That will give us a chance to look 
 round for some place for 'em and find out whether 
 they 've told us the truth."
 
 3 8 FINDING A HOME 
 
 " And if Squire Bean won't take him ? " asked 
 Samantha, with as much cold indifference as she 
 could assume. 
 
 " Well, I suppose there 's nothing for it but he 
 must come back here and sleep. I '11 go out and 
 tell him so, I declare I feel as weak as if I 'd 
 had a spell of sickness ! " 
 
 Timothy bore the news better than Samantha 
 had feared. Squire Bean's farm did not look so very 
 far away ; his heart was at rest about Gay, and he 
 felt that he could find a shelter for himself some- 
 where. 
 
 " Now, how '11 the baby act when she wakes up 
 and finds you 're gone ? " inquired Miss Vilda anx- 
 iously, as Timothy took his hat and bent down to 
 kiss the sleeping child. 
 
 " Well, I don't know exactly," answered Timo- 
 thy, " because she 's always had me, you see. But 
 I guess she '11 be all right, now that she knows you 
 a little, and if I can see her every day. She never 
 cries except once in a long while when she gets 
 mad ; and if you 're careful how you behave, she '11 
 hardly ever get mad at you." 
 
 " Well, I vow ! " exclaimed Miss Vilda, with a 
 grim glance at Samantha, " I guess she 'd better 
 do the behavin'." 
 
 So Timothy was shown the way across the fields 
 to Squire Bean's. Samantha accompanied him to 
 the back gate, where she gave him three doughnuts
 
 FINDING A HOME 
 
 39 
 
 and an affectionate kiss, watching him out of sight 
 under the pretense of taking the towels and nap- 
 kins off the grass. 
 
 It was nearly nine o'clock and quite dark when 
 Timothy stole again to the little gate of the White 
 Farm. The feet that had traveled so courageously 
 over the half mile 
 walk to Squire 
 Bean's had come 
 back again slowly 
 and wearily ; for it is 
 one thing to be shod 
 with the sandals of 
 hope, and quite an- 
 other to tread upon 
 the leaden soles of 
 disappointment. 
 
 He leaned upon 
 th. white picket gate listening to the chirp of the 
 frogs and looking at the fireflies as they hung their 
 gleaming lamps here and there in the tall grass. 
 Then he crept round to the side door, to implore 
 the kind offices of Samantha before he entered 
 the presence of Miss Avilda, whom he assumed to 
 be sitting in awful state somewhere in the front 
 part of the house. He lifted the latch noiselessly 
 and entered the kitchen. Oh, horrors ! Miss Avilda 
 herself was sprinkling clothes at the great table 
 
 Timothy goes to Squire Bean's
 
 40 FINDING A HOME 
 
 on one side of the room. There was a moment of 
 silence before the boy spoke. 
 
 " Mr. Bean would n't have me," said Timothy 
 simply; " he said I was n't big enough yet. I offered 
 him Gay, too, but he did n't want her either; and if 
 you please, I would rather sleep on the sofa so as 
 not to be any more trouble." 
 
 " You won't do any such thing," responded Miss 
 Vilda briskly. "You've got a royal welcome this 
 time sure, and I guess you can earn your lodging 
 fast enough. You hear that ? " and she opened the 
 door that led into the upper part of the house. 
 
 A piercing shriek floated down into the kitchen, 
 and another still louder, and then another. Every 
 drop of blood in Timothy's spare body rushed to 
 his pale face. " Is she being whipped ? " he whis- 
 pered, with trembling lips. 
 
 "No; she needs it bad enough, but we ain't 
 savages. She's only got the pretty temper that 
 matches her hair, just as you said. I guess we 
 have n't been behavin' to suit her." 
 
 " Can I go up ? She '11 stop in a minute when she 
 sees me. She never went to bed without me befor^ 
 and truly, truly, she 's not a cross baby ! " 
 
 " Come right along and welcome ; just so long 
 as she has to stay you 're invited to visit with her. 
 Land sakes ! the neighbors will think we 're killin' 
 pigs!" and Miss Vilda started upstairs to show 
 Timothy the way.
 
 FINDING A HOME 41 
 
 Gay was sitting up in bed and the faithful Saman- 
 tha Ann was seated beside her with a lapful of 
 useless bribes, apples, seed-cakes, an illustrated 
 Bible, a thermometer, an ear of red corn, and a 
 large stuffed green bird, the glory of the parlor 
 mantelpiece. 
 
 But a whole aviary of highly colored songsters 
 would not have assuaged Gay's woe at that mo- 
 ment. Every effort at conciliation was met with 
 the one plaint : " I want my Timfy ! I want my 
 Timfy!" 
 
 At the first sight of the beloved form, Gay flung 
 the sacred bird into the farthest corner of the room 
 and burst into a wild sob of delight, as she threw 
 herself into Timothy's loving arms. 
 
 When Miss Avilda opened her eyes, the morning 
 after the arrival of the children, she tried to remem- 
 ber whether anything had happened to give her 
 such a strange feeling of altered conditions. It was 
 Saturday, baking day, that could n't be it ; 
 and she gazed at the little dimity-curtained window 
 and wondered what was the matter. 
 
 Just then a child's laugh, bright, merry, tuneful, 
 infectious, rang out from some distant room, and 
 it all came back to her as Samantha Ann opened 
 the door and peered in. 
 
 " I 've got breakfast 'bout ready," she said ; "but 
 I wish, soon 's you 're dressed, you 'd step down 'n*
 
 42 FINDING A HOME 
 
 see to it, V let me wash the baby. I guess water 
 was scarce where she come from ! " 
 
 " They 're awake, are they ? " 
 
 " Awake ? Land o' liberty ! as soon as 't was light, 
 and before the boy had opened his eyes, Gay was 
 up 'n' poundin' on all the doors, 'n' hollerin' 
 ' S'manfy ' (beats all how she got holt o' my name 
 so quick), so 't I thought sure she 'd disturb your 
 sleep. See here, Vildy, we want those children 
 should look respectable the few days they 're here. 
 I don't see how we can rig out the boy, but there 's 
 those old things of your sister Marthy's in the at- 
 tic ; seems like it might be a blessin' on 'em if we 
 used 'em this way." 
 
 " I thought of it myself in the night," answered 
 Vilda briefly. " You '11 find the key of the trunk 
 in the light-stand drawer. You see to the children, 
 and I '11 get breakfast on the table. Has Jabe 
 come ? " 
 
 " No ; he sent a boy to milk, 'n' said he 'd be 
 right along. You know what that means ! " 
 
 Miss Vilda moved about the immaculate kitchen, 
 frying potatoes and making tea, setting on extra 
 portions of bread and doughnuts and a huge pitcher 
 Df milk ; while various noises, strange enough in 
 that quiet house, floated down from above. 
 
 " This is dreadful hard on Samanthy," she re- 
 flected. " I don't know 's I 'd ought to have put it 
 on her, knowing how she hates confusion and com-
 
 FINDING A HOME 43 
 
 pany, and all that ; but she seemed to think we 'd 
 got to endure it for a spell, anyway ; though I 
 don't expect her temper '11 stand the strain very 
 long." 
 
 The fact was, Samantha was banging doors and 
 slamming tin pails about furiously, to keep up an os- 
 tentatious show of ill humor. She tried her best to 
 grunt with displeasure when Gay, seated in a wash- 
 tub, crowed and beat the water with her dimpled 
 hands, so that it splashed all over the carpet ; but 
 all the time there was such a joy tugging at her 
 heartstrings as they had not felt for years. 
 
 When the bath was over, clean p'etticoats and 
 ankle-ties were chosen out of the old leather trunk, 
 and finally a little blue and white lawn dress. It 
 was too long in the skirt, and pending the moment 
 when Samantha should take a tuck in it, it antici- 
 pated the present fashion, and made Lady Gay 
 look more like a disguised princess than ever. The 
 gown was low-necked and short-sleeved, in the old 
 style ; and Samantha was in despair till she found 
 some little embroidered muslin capes and full un- 
 dersleeves, with which she covered Gay's pink neck 
 and arms. These things of beauty so wrought upon 
 the child's excitable nature that she could hardly 
 keep still long enough to have her hair curled ; and 
 Samantha, as the shining rings dropped off her 
 stiff forefinger, was wrestling with temptation in 
 the shape of a small box of jewelry that she had
 
 44 
 
 FINDING A HOME 
 
 Gay't Toilet 
 
 found with the clothing. She knew that such orna- 
 ments were out of place on a little pauper just 
 taken in for the night ; but her fingers trembled 
 
 with a desire to 
 fasten the tiny 
 gold ears of corn on 
 the shoulders, or 
 tie the strings of 
 coral beads around 
 the child's pretty 
 throat. 
 
 When the toilet 
 was completed, and 
 Samantha wasemp- 
 tying the tub, Gay 
 climbed on the bureau and imprinted sloppy kisses 
 of sincere admiration on the radiant reflection of 
 herself in the little looking-glass; then, getting 
 down again, she seized her heap of Minerva Court 
 clothes, and, before the astonished Samantha could 
 interpose, flung them out of the second-story win- 
 dow, where they fell on the top of the lilac bushes. 
 " Me does n't like nasty old dress," she explained, 
 with a dazzling smile that was a justification in it- 
 self ; " me likes pretty new dress ! " and then, with 
 one hand reaching up to the door-knob, and the 
 other throwing disarming kisses to Samantha, 
 " By-by ! Lady Gay go circus now ! Timfy, come, 
 take Lady Gay to circus ! "
 
 FINDING A HOME 45 
 
 There was no time for discipline then, and she 
 was borne to the breakfast-table, where Timothy 
 was already making acquaintance with Miss Vilda. 
 
 Samantha entered, and Vilda, glancing at her 
 nervously, perceived with relief that she was " tak- 
 ing things easy." Her whole face had relaxed ; her 
 mouth was no longer a thin, hard line, but had a 
 certain curve and fullness, borrowed perhaps from 
 the warmth of innocent baby-kisses. Embarrass- 
 ment and stifled joy had brought a rosier color to 
 her cheek; Gay's naughty hand had ruffled the 
 smoothness of her sandy locks, so that a few stray 
 hairs were absolutely curling with amazement that 
 they had escaped from their sleek bondage ; in a 
 word, Samantha Ann Ripley was lovely and lov- 
 able ! 
 
 Timothy had no eyes for any one save his be- 
 loved Gay, at whom he gazed with unspeakable 
 admiration, thinking it impossible that any human 
 being, with a single eye in its head, could refuse to 
 take such an angel when it was in the market. 
 
 Gay, not being used to a regular morning toilet, 
 had fought against it valiantly at first; but the 
 tonic of the bath itself and the exercise of war had 
 brought the color to her cheeks and the brightness 
 to her eyes. She had forgiven Samantha, she was 
 ready to be on good terms with Miss Vilda, she 
 was at peace with all the world. That she was 
 eating the bread of dependence did not trouble her
 
 46 FINDING A HOME 
 
 in the least ! No royal visitor, conveying honor by 
 her mere presence, could have carried off a delicate 
 situation with more distinguished grace and ease. 
 She was perched on a Webster's Unabridged Dic- 
 tionary, and immediately began blowing bubbles in 
 her mug of milk in the most reprehensible fashion ; 
 and glancing up after each mischievous effort with 
 an irrepressible gurgle of laughter, in which she 
 looked so bewitching, even with a milky crescent 
 over her red mouth, that she would have melted the 
 hardest heart in Christendom. 
 
 Timothy was not so entirely at his ease. His 
 eyes had looked into life only a few more summers, 
 but experience had tempered joy. Gay, however, 
 had not arrived at an age where people's motives 
 can be suspected for an instant. She apparently 
 looked upon herself as a guest out of heaven, flung 
 down upon this hospitable planet with the single 
 responsibility of enjoying its treasures. 
 
 O happy heart of childhood ! Your simple creed 
 is rich in faith, and trust, and hope. You have not 
 learned that the children of a common Father can 
 do aught but love and help one another.
 
 SCENE VI 
 
 A Point of Honor 
 TIMOTHY RUNS AWAY. 
 
 A MONTH had gone by and the children 
 were still at the White Farm, no one hav- 
 ing been found who would consider taking 
 them both into the family. Gay was a general favor- 
 ite, but no home with the little "h" had as yet 
 been offered to Timothy. 
 
 It was almost dusk and Jabe Slocum was strug- 
 gling with the nightly problem of getting the cow 
 from the pasture without any expenditure of per- 
 sonal effort. Timothy was nowhere to be found, or 
 he would go and be glad to do the trifling service 
 for his kind friend without other remuneration 
 than a cordial " Thank you." Failing Timothy there 
 was always Billy Pennell, who would not go for a 
 "Thank you," being a boy of a sordid and miserly 
 manner of thought, but who would go for a cent and 
 not expect cash, which made it a more reasonable 
 charge than would appear to the casual observer. 
 So Jabe lighted his corncob pipe, and extended him- 
 self under a willow tree beside the pond, singing in 
 a cheerful fashion :
 
 48 FINDING A HOME 
 
 * ' Tremblin' sinner, calm your fears ! 
 Pardon is always ready. 
 Cease your sin and dry your tears, 
 Pardon is always ready 1 ' " 
 
 "And dretful lucky it is for you ! " muttered 
 Samantha, who had come to look for Timothy. 
 " Jabe ! Jabe ! Has Timothy gone for the cow ? " 
 
 " Dunno. Jest what I was goin' to ask you when 
 I got roun' to it." 
 
 " Well, how are you goin' to find out ? " 
 
 " Find out by seein' the cow if he hez gone, an' 
 by not seein' no cow if he hain't. I 'm comf'table 
 either way it turns out. Look down there at the" 
 shiners, ain't they cool ? Land ! I wish I was a 
 fish ! " 
 
 " If you was you would n't wear your fins out, 
 that 's certain ! " 
 
 " Come now, Samanthy, don't be hard on a feller 
 after his day's work. Want me to git up 'n' blow 
 the horn for the boy ? " 
 
 " No, thank you," answered Samantha cuttingly. 
 "I wouldn't ask you to blow out your precious 
 breath for fear you 'd be too lazy to draw it in agin. 
 When I want to get anything done I can gen'ally 
 spunk up and do it myself, thanks be ! " 
 
 "Wall now, Samanthy, you cheat the men-folks 
 cut of a heap o' pleasure bein' so all-fired inde< 
 pendent, did ye know it ? " 
 
 " When 'd you see Timothy last ? "
 
 FINDING A HOME 49 
 
 "I hain't seen him sence 'bout noon-time. War n't 
 he in to supper ? " 
 
 " No. We thought he was off with you. Well, I 
 guess he 's gone for the cow, but I should think he 'd 
 be hungry. It 's kind o' queer." 
 
 Miss Vilda was seated at the open window in the 
 kitchen meantime, with Lady Gay enthroned in her 
 lap, sleepy, affectionate, tractable, adorable. 
 
 " How would you like to live here at the White 
 Farm, deary ? " asked Miss Vilda. 
 
 " Oh, yet. I yike to yive here if Timfy doin' to 
 live here, too. I yike oo, I yike Samfy, I yike Dabe, 
 I yike white tat 'n' white tow 'n' white bossy 'n' my 
 boof ely desses 'n* my boofely dolly 'n' I yikes evely- 
 buddy!" 
 
 " But you 'd stay here like a nice little girl if Tim- 
 othy had to go away, would n't you ?" 
 
 " No, I won't tay like nite 'ittle dirl if Timfy do 
 'way. If Timfy do 'way, I do too. I 's Timfy's dirl." 
 
 " But you 're too little to go away with Timothy." 
 
 " Ven I ky an' keam an' kick an' hold my bwef 
 I show you how ! " 
 
 " No, you need n't show me how," said Vilda 
 hastily. " Who do you love best, deary, Samanthy 
 or me ? " 
 
 " I yuv Timfy bet. Lemme twy rit-man-poor-man- 
 bedder-man-fief on your buckalins, pease." 
 
 " Then you '11 stay here and be my little girl, will 
 you ? "
 
 50 FINDING A HOME 
 
 " Yet, I tay here an' be Timfy's 'ittle dirl. Now oo 
 p'ay by your own seff 'ittle while, Mit Vildy, pease, 
 coz I dot to det down an' find Samfy an' put my dolly 
 to bed coz she 's defful seepy." 
 
 "It's half past eight," said Samantha, coming 
 into the kitchen, " and Timothy ain't nowheres to 
 be found, and Jabe hain't seen him sence noon- 
 time." 
 
 " You need n't be scared for fear you 've lost 
 your bargain," remarked Miss Vilda sarcastically. 
 " There ain't so many places open to the boy that 
 he '11 turn his back on this one, I guess ! " 
 
 Yet, though the days of chivalry were over, that 
 was precisely what Timothy Jessup had done. 
 
 Wilkins's Wood was a quiet stretch of timber land 
 that lay along the banks of Pleasant River ; and 
 though the natives (for the most part) never noticed 
 but that it was paved with asphalt and roofed in 
 with oil-cloth, yet it was, nevertheless, the most 
 tranquil bit of loveliness in all the country round. 
 For there the river twisted and turned and sparkled 
 in the sun, and bent itself in graceful curtsies of 
 farewell to the hills it was leaving ; and kissed the 
 velvet meadows that stooped to drink from its brim- 
 ming cup; and lapped the trees gently, as they hung 
 over its crystal mirrors the better to see their ow>j 
 fresh beauty. And here it "wound about and in and 
 out," laughing in the morning sunlight, to think
 
 FINDING A HOME 51 
 
 of the tiny streamlet out of which it grew ; paling 
 and shimmering at evening when it held the stars 
 and moonbeams in its bosom ; and trembling in the 
 night wind to think of the great unknown sea into 
 whose arms it was hurrying. 
 
 Here was a quiet pool where the rushes bent to 
 the breeze and the quail dipped her wing ; and 
 there a winding path where the cattle came down 
 to the edge, and having looked upon the scene and 
 found it all very good, dipped their sleek heads to 
 drink and drink and drink of the river's nectar. Here 
 the first pink mayflowers pushed their sweet heads 
 through the reluctant earth, and waxen Indian pipes 
 grew in the moist places, and yellow violets hid 
 themselves beneath their modest leaves. 
 
 And here sat Timothy, with all his heart in his 
 eyes, bidding good-by to all this soft and tender 
 loveliness. And there, by his side, faithful unto 
 death (but very much in hopes of something bet- 
 ter), sat Rags, and thought it a fine enough pros- 
 pect, but one that could be beaten at all points by 
 a bit of shed-view he knew of, an overturned 
 hash-pan, an empty milk-dish, and a frightened 
 white cat flying round a corner ! The remembrance 
 of these past joys brought the tears to his eyes, but 
 he forebore to let them flow lest he should add to 
 the griefs of his little master, which, for aught he 
 knew, might be as heavy as his own. 
 
 Timothy was comporting himself, at this trying
 
 52 FINDING A HOME 
 
 crisis, neither as a hero nor as a martyr. There is 
 no need of exaggerating his virtues. Enough to say, 
 not that he was a hero, but that he had in him the 
 stuff out of which heroes are made. Win his heart 
 and fire his imagination, and there is no splendid 
 deed of which the little fellow would not have been 
 capable ; but that he knew precisely what he was 
 leaving behind, or what he was going forth to meet, 
 would be saying too much. One thing he did know : 
 that Miss Vilda had said distinctly that two children 
 were one too many to adopt, and that he was the ob- 
 jectionable extra referred to. And in addition to this 
 he had more than once heard that very day that no- 
 body in Pleasant River wanted him, but that there 
 would be plenty of homes open to Gay if he were 
 safely out of the way. A little allusion to a Home, 
 which he caught when he was just bringing in a 
 four-leafed clover to show to Samantha, completed 
 the stock of ideas from which he reasoned. He was 
 very clear on one point, and that was that he would 
 never be taken alive and put in a Home with a cap- 
 ital H. He respected Homes, he approved of them, 
 for other boys, but personally they were unpleasant 
 to him, and he had no intention of dwelling in one 
 if he could help it. The situation did not appear 
 utterly hopeless in his eyes. He had his original 
 dollar and eighty-five cents in money ; Rags and 
 he had supped like kings off wild blackberries and 
 hard gingerbread ; and, more than all, he was young
 
 FINDING A HOME 53 
 
 and mercifully blind to all but the immediate pres- 
 ent. Yet even in taking the most commonplace 
 possible view of his character it would be folly to 
 affirm that he was anything but unhappy. His soul 
 was not sustained by the consciousness of having 
 done a self -forgetting and manly act, for he was 
 not old enough to have such a consciousness, which 
 is something the good God gives us a little later on, 
 to help us over some of the hard places. 
 
 " Nobody wants me ! Nobody wants me ! " he 
 sighed, as he lay down under the trees. " Nobody 
 ever did want me, I wonder why ! And everybody 
 loves my darling Gay and wants to keep her, and I 
 don't wonder about that. But, oh, if I only belonged 
 to somebody ! (Cuddle up close, little Ragsy ; we 've 
 got nobody but just each other, and you can put 
 your head into the other pocket that has n't got the 
 gingerbread in it, if you please !) If I only was like 
 that little butcher's boy that he lets ride on the 
 seat with him, and hold the reins when he takes 
 meat into the houses, or if I only was that freckle- 
 faced boy with the straw hat that lives on the way 
 to the store ! His mother keeps coming out to the 
 gate on purpose to kiss him. Or if I was even Billy 
 Pennell ! He's had three mothers and two fathers 
 in three years, Jabe says. Jabe likes me, I think, 
 but he can't have me live at his house, because 
 his mother is the kind that needs plenty of room, 
 he says, and Samanthy has no house. But I did
 
 54 FINDING A HOME 
 
 what I tried to do. I got away from Minerva Court 
 and found a lovely place for Gay to live, with two 
 mothers instead of one ; and maybe they '11 tell her 
 about me when she grows bigger, and then she '11 
 know I didn't want to run away from her; but 
 whether they tell her or not, she 's only a little 
 baby, and boys must always take care of girls ; 
 that 's what my dream-mother whispers to me in 
 the night, and that 's . . . what ... I 'm always . . . 
 going to do." 
 
 Come ! gentle sleep, and take this friendless little 
 knight in thy kind arms ! Bear him across the rain- 
 bow bridge, and lull him to rest with the soft plash 
 of waves and sighing of branches ! Cover him with 
 thy mantle, sweet mother sleep, and give him in 
 dreams what he has never had in waking ! 
 
 Meanwhile, a more dramatic scene was being 
 enacted at the White Farm. It was nine o'clock, 
 and Samantha had gone from pond to garden, 
 shed to barn, and gate to dairy, a dozen times, but 
 there was no sign of Timothy. Gay had refused to 
 be undressed till " Timfy " appeared on the prem- 
 ises, but had fallen asleep in spite of the most valiant 
 resolution, and was borne upstairs by Samantha, 
 who made her ready for bed without waking her. 
 
 As she picked up the heap of clothes to lay them 
 neatly on a chair, a bit of folded paper fell from the 
 bosom of the little dress. She glanced at it, turned
 
 FINDING A HOME 55 
 
 it over and over, read it quite through. Then, after 
 retiring behind her apron a moment, she went 
 swiftly downstairs to the dining-room, where Miss 
 Avilda and Jabe were sitting. 
 
 "There!" she exclaimed, with a triumphant sob, 
 as she laid the paper down in front of the astonished 
 couple. "That's a letter from Timothy. He's run 
 away, 'n' I don't blame him a mite, 'n' I hope folks '11 
 be satisfied now they've got rid of the blessed 
 angel, 'n' turned him outdoors without a roof to 
 his head ! Read it out loud, 'n' see what kind of a 
 boy we 've showed the door to ! " 
 
 Dere Miss vilder and sermanthy. i herd you say 
 i cood not stay here enny longer and other peeple 
 sed nobuddy wood have me and what you sed about 
 the home but as i do not like homes i am going to 
 run away if its all the same to you. Please give Jabe 
 back his birds egs with my love and i am sorry i 
 broak the humming-bird's one but it was a naxident. 
 Pleas take good care of gay and i will come back 
 and get her when I am ritch. I thank you very 
 mutch for such a happy time and the white farm is 
 the most butifull plase in the whole whirld. 
 
 TIM. 
 
 p. s. i wood not tell you if i was going to stay but 
 billy penel thros stones at the white cow witch i 
 fere will get into her milk so no more from 
 
 TIM.
 
 FINDING A HOME 
 
 i am sorry not to say good by but i am afrade on 
 acount of the home so i put them here. 
 
 The paper fell from Miss Vilda's trembling fin- 
 gers, and two salt tears dropped into the kissing 
 places. 
 
 " The Lord forgive me ! " she said at length (and 
 it was many a year since any one had seen her so 
 moved). " The Lord forgive me for a hard-hearted 
 old woman, and give me a chance to make it right. 
 Not one hard word does he say to us about showin' 
 partiality, not one! And my heart has kind of 
 yearned over that boy from the first, but just be- 
 cause he had poor Marthy's eyes he kept bringin' 
 up the past, and I never looked at him without 
 rememberin' how hard and unforgivin' I 'd ben to 
 her, and tbinkin' if I 'd petted and humored her a 
 little and made life pleasanter, perhaps she 'd never 
 have gone away from home. And I 've scrimped and 
 saved and laid up money till it comes hard to pay
 
 FINDING A HOME 57 
 
 it out, and when I thought of bringin* up and 
 schoolin' two children I decided I could n't afford 
 it; and yet I've got ten thousand dollars in the 
 bank and the best farm for miles around. Samanthy, 
 you bring my bonnet and shawl, Jabe, you run 
 and hitch up Maria, and we '11 go after that boy and 
 fetch him back if he 's to be found anywheres above 
 ground ! And if we come across any more o' the 
 same family trampin' around the country, we'll 
 bring them along home while we 're about it, and 
 see if we can't get some sleep and some comfort 
 out o' life. And the Missionary Society must wait 
 a spell for their legacy. There 's plenty o' folks 
 that don't get good works set right down in their 
 front yards for 'em to do. I '11 look out for the indi- 
 viduals for a while, and let the other folks 
 the societies ! "
 
 SCENE VII 
 
 Wtlkins's Woods 
 
 THE FAITHFUL RAGS GUIDES MISS VILDA TO 
 HIS LITTLE MASTER 
 
 SAMANTHA ran out to the barn to hold the 
 lantern and see that Jabe did n't go to sleep 
 while he was harnessing Maria. But he 
 seemed unusually " spry " for him, although he was 
 conducting himself in a somewhat strange and un- 
 usual manner. His loose figure shook from time to 
 time, as with severe chills ; he seemed too weak to 
 hold up the shafts, and so he finally dropped them 
 and hung round Maria's neck in a sort of mild, 
 speechless convulsion. 
 
 " What under the canopy ails you, Jabe Slocum ?" 
 asked Samantha. " I s'pose it 's one o' them ever- 
 lastin' old jokes o' yourn, but it's a poor time to be 
 jokin' now. What 's the matter with you ? " 
 
 " ' Ask me no questions 'n' I'll tell you no lies,' 
 is an awful good motto," chuckled Jabe, with a new 
 explosion of mirth that stretched his mouth to an 
 alarming extent. " Oh, there, I can't hold in 'nother 
 minute. I shall bust if I don't tell somebody ! Set 
 down on that nail kag, Samanthy, 'n' I'll let you 
 hev a little slice o' this joke, if you'll keep it to
 
 FINDING A HOME 59 
 
 yourself. You see I know 'bout whar to look 
 for this here runaway boy ! " 
 
 "You have n't got him stowed away anywheres, 
 have you ? If you have, it '11 be the last joke you '11 
 play on Vildy Cummins, I can tell you that much, 
 Jabe Slocum." 
 
 "No, I hain't stowed him away, but I can tell 
 putty nigh whar he 's stowed hisself away, and I 'm 
 ready to die a-laughin' to see how it's all turned out 
 jest as I suspicioned 't would. You see, Samanthy 
 Ann, I 've ben surmisin' for a week that the boy 
 meant to run away, and to-day I was sure of it ; for 
 he come to me this afternoon, when I was restin' a 
 spell on account o' the hot sun, and he was awful 
 low-sperrited, V he asked me every namable kind 
 of a question you ever hearn tell of. Well, when I 
 found out what he was up to I could V stopped him 
 then 'n' there, tho' I don't know 's I would anyhow, 
 for I should n't like livin' in a 'sylum any better 'n 
 he does ; but thinks I to myself, thinks I, I 'd better 
 let him run away, jest as he's a-plannin,' and 
 why ? 'Cause it '11 show what kind o' stuff he 's made 
 of, and that he ain't no beggar layin' roun' whar he 
 ain't wanted, but a self-respectin' boy that's wuth 
 lookin' after. And thinks I, Samanthy 'n' I know 
 the wuth of him a'ready, but there's them that 
 hain't waked up to it yit, namely, Miss Vildy Try- 
 pheny Cummins ; and as Miss Vildy Trypheny Cum- 
 mins can't be drove, but hez to be kind o' coaxed
 
 60 FINDING A HOME 
 
 along, mebbe this runnin'-away bizness '11 be the 
 thing that'll fetch her roun' to our way o' thinkin'. 
 Now I would n't deceive nobody for the world, but 
 thinks I, there ain't no deceivin' 'bout this. He 
 don't know I know he 's goin' to run away, so he 's 
 all square; and he never told me nothin' 'bout 
 his plans, so I 'm all square ; and Miss Vildy 's slow 
 but good as gold when she gets roun' to it, so she 
 '11 be all square; and Samanthy's got her blind- 
 ers on 'n' don't see nothin' to the right nor to the 
 left, so she 's all square. And I ain't inteferin' 
 with nobody; I'm jest lettin' things go the way 
 they 've started, 'n' standin' to one side to see whar 
 they '11 fetch up, kind o' like Providence. I 'm leavin' 
 Miss Vildy a free agent, but I 'm shapin' circum- 
 stances so 's to give her a chance. But, land ! if I 'd 
 fixed up the thing to suit myself I could n't 'a* 
 managed it as Timothy has, 'thout knowin' that 
 he was managin' anything. Look at that letter 
 bizness now ! I could n't 'a' writ that letter bet- 
 ter myself! And the sperit o' the little feller, jest 
 takin' his dog 'n' lightin' out with nothin' but a per- 
 lite good-by ! Well, I can't stop to talk no more 
 'bout it now, or we won't ketch him, but we '11 jest 
 try Wilkins's Woods, Maria, 'n' see how that goes. 
 The river road leads to Edgewood 'n' Hillside, 
 whar there 's consid'able hayin' bein' done, as I 
 happened to mention to Timothy this afternoon ; 
 and plenty o' blackberries 'side the road, 'specially
 
 FINDING A HOME 61 
 
 after you pass the wood-pile on the left-hand side, 
 whar there 's a reg'lar garding of 'em right side of 
 an old hoss-blanket that's layin' there; one that I 
 happened to leave there one time when I was sleepin' 
 outdoors for my health, and that was this afternoon 
 'bout five o'clock, so I guess it hain't changed its 
 location sence." 
 
 Jabe and Miss Vilda drove in silence along the 
 river road that skirted Wilkins's Woods, a place 
 where Jabe had taken Timothy more than once, so 
 he informed Miss Vilda, and a likely road for him 
 to travel if he were on his way to some of the near 
 villages. 
 
 Poor Miss Vilda ! Fifty years old, and in twenty 
 summers and winters scarcely one lovely thought 
 had blossomed into lovelier deed and shed its sweet- 
 ness over her arid and colorless life. And now, 
 under the magic spell of tender little hands and 
 innocent lips, of luminous eyes that looked wistfully 
 into hers for a welcome, and the touch of a groping 
 helplessness that fastened upon her strength, the 
 woman in her woke into life, and the beauty and 
 fragrance of long-ago summers came back again as 
 in a dream. 
 
 After having driven three or four miles, they 
 heard a melancholy sound in the distance ; and as 
 they approached a huge wood-pile on the left side 
 of the road, they saw a small woolly form perched on
 
 FINDING A HOME 
 
 a little rise of ground, howling most melodiously 
 
 at the August moon, that hung like a ball of red 
 fire in the cloudless sky. 
 
 " That 's a sign of death in 
 the family, ain't it, Jabe ? " 
 whispered Miss Vilda faintly. 
 " So they say," he answered 
 cheerfully ; "but if 't is, I can 
 'count for it, bein' as how I 
 was obliged to drown four 
 kittens this afternoon ; and 
 as Rags was with me when I 
 done it, he may know what 
 he 's bayin' 'bout, if 't is 
 Rags, 'n' it looks enough like 
 him to be him, 'n' Timothy 's 
 
 sure to be somewheres near. I '11 get out 'n' look 
 
 roun' a little." 
 
 " You set right still, Jabe ; I '11 get out myself, 
 
 for if I find that boy I 've 
 
 got something to say to him 
 
 that nobody can say forme." 
 As Jabe drew the wagon 
 
 up beside the fence, Rags 
 
 bounded out to meet them. 
 
 He knew Maria, bless your 
 
 soul, the minute he clapped 
 
 his eyes on her, and as he approached Miss Vilda's 
 
 shoe his quivering whiskers seemed to say, " Now, 
 
 He knew Maria
 
 FINDING A HOME 63 
 
 where have I smelled that shoe before ? If I mistake 
 not, it has been applied to me more than once!" 
 whereupon he leaped up on Miss Cummins's black 
 alpaca skirts in a way that she particularly disliked. 
 
 " Now," said she, " if he 's anything like dogs you 
 read of in books, he '11 take us right to Timothy." 
 
 " Well, I don't know," said Jabe cautiously ; 
 " there 's so many kinds o' dog in him you can't 
 hardly tell what he will do. When dogs is mixed 
 beyond a certain p'int it kind o' muddles up their 
 instincks, 'n' you can't rely on 'em. Still you might 
 try him. Hold still, 'n' see what he '11 do." 
 
 Miss Vilda " held still," and Rags jumped on her 
 skirts. 
 
 " Now, set down, 'n' see whar he '11 go." 
 
 Miss Vilda sat down, and Rags went into her lap. 
 
 " Now, make believe start sornewheres, 'n' mebbe 
 he '11 get ahead 'n' put you on the right track." 
 
 Miss Vilda did as she was told, and Rags followed 
 close at her heels. 
 
 " Land ! I never see sech a fool ! or wait, 
 I '11 tell you what 's the matter with him. Mebbe 
 he ain't sech a fool as he looks. You see, he knows 
 Timothy wants to run away and don't want to be 
 found 'n' clapped into a 'sylum, 'n' nuther does he. 
 And not bein' sure o' your intentions, he ain't 
 a-goin' to give hisself away ; that 's the way I size 
 Mr. Rags up!" 
 
 " Nice doggy, nice doggy ! " shuddered Miss
 
 6 4 FINDING A HOME 
 
 Vilda, as Rags precipitated himself upon her again. 
 " Show me where Timothy is, and then we '11 go 
 back home and have some nice bones. Run and 
 find your little master, that 's a good doggy ! " 
 
 It would be a clever philosopher who could 
 divine Rags's special method of logic, or who could 
 write him down either as foolish or wise. Suffice it 
 to say that, at this moment (having run in all other 
 possible directions, and wishing, doubtless, to keep 
 on moving), he ran round the wood-pile ; and Miss 
 Vilda, following close behind, came upon a little 
 figure stretched on a bit of gray blanket. The pale 
 face shone paler in the moonlight ; there were 
 traces of tears on the cheeks ; but there was a 
 smile on his parted lips, as if his dream-mother had 
 rocked him to sleep in her arms. Rags stole away 
 to Jabe (for even dogs have some delicacy), and 
 Miss Vilda went down on her knees beside the 
 sleeping boy. 
 
 " Timothy, Timothy, wake up ! " 
 
 No answer. 
 
 "Timothy, wake up! I've come to take you 
 home ! " 
 
 Timothy woke with a sob and a start at that 
 hated word, and seeing Miss Vilda at once jumped 
 to conclusions. 
 
 "Please, please, Miss Vildy, don't take me to 
 the Home, but find me some other place, and I '11 
 never, never run away from it ! "
 
 FINDING A HOME 65 
 
 " Don't worry, Timothy, I 've come to take you 
 back to your own home at the White Farm." 
 
 It was too good to believe all at once. " Nobody 
 wants me there, I heard you say so," he said. 
 
 "Everybody wants you there," replied Miss Vilda, 
 with a softer note in her voice than anybody had 
 ever heard there before. " Samantha wants you, 
 Gay wants you, and Jabe is waiting out here with 
 Maria, for he wants you." 
 
 " But do you want me ? " faltered the boy. 
 
 " I want you more than all of 'em put together, 
 Timothy ; I want you, and I need you most of all," 
 cried Miss Vilda, with the tears coursing down her 
 withered cheeks; "and if you'll only forgive me 
 for hurtin' your feelin's and makin' you run away, 
 you shall come to the White Farm and be my own 
 boy as long as you live." 
 
 " Oh, Miss Vildy, darling Miss Vildy ! are we 
 both of us adopted, and are we truly going to live 
 with you all the time and never have to go to the 
 Home? " Whereupon, the boy flung his arms round 
 Miss Vilda's neck ; and in that childlike embrace 
 of gratitude and confidence and joy, the stone was 
 rolled away, once and forever, from the sepulchre 
 of Miss Vilda's heart, and Easter morning broke 
 there.
 
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