At the Little Brown House

by Edward Stratemeyer

  CHAPTER XXI

  SURPRISES

  "Why, Gail, what are you doing?" asked Faith one cold, dull Novemberday, as she hurried into the kitchen from her village trip, and foundthe older sister picking two plump hens.

  "Can't you see?" smiled the girl, glancing up from her task with anexcited, happy sparkle in her eyes.

  "Yes, I can see, but what is the occasion? Has Peace made another raidon the hen-house with poison or rat-traps? I shouldn't suppose we couldafford chicken unless by accident. Thanksgiving is more than two weeksoff."

  "What day is tomorrow? Am I the only one who remembers?"

  "November tenth--your birthday! Oh, Gail, it had slipped my mind for theminute! No wonder you are getting up a celebration if everyone forgetslike that."

  "Oh, it isn't on account of the birthday, Faith; that just happened.It's the mortgage--"

  "Of course, I knew it was due soon, but the relief at being able to getthe money made me overlook the exact date, I guess. So that is the causeof your excitement!"

  "Partly, and then we are to have company for dinner, too."

  "Who?" demanded Faith, again surprised.

  "Mr. and Mrs. Strong and Glen and Mrs. Grinnell."

  "What in the world will we do with them all? Eight is a tight fit forour dining-room."

  "It will crowd us a little, but I have it all planned nicely. Glen mustsit in his daddy's lap--he often does at home when they have company andhaven't room at the table for his high-chair--and of course I will waiton the people, so there will be room for all."

  "Of course you _won't_ wait on the people! What waiting there is toattend to I shall look after. You are mistress of this house. Oh, Ican't help hugging myself every other minute to think Mr. Strong wasable to get the money for the mortgage and we won't have to leave thisdear little brown house after all."

  "Do you care so much?" asked Gail, with such a curious wistfulness inher voice that Faith stopped her ecstatic prancing to study the thin,flushed face.

  "I should say I do!" she exclaimed emphatically. "Someway, in these lastsix months it has grown ever so much dearer than I ever dreamed itcould. I used to think I hated farm life, and it fretted me because wecouldn't live in Pendennis or Martindale, and have things like otherfolks. I did want a piano so much, instead of a worn-out, wheezy oldorgan."

  "Wouldn't you still like all that?" questioned the older girl, keepingher eyes fixed on the half-picked fowl in her lap, as if afraid ofbetraying some delightful secret.

  "Oh, yes, indeed! But I gave up thinking about such things a long timeago. The farm is all we have, and there is the mortgage to pay on that;so I just shut up my high-falutin notions, as Mrs. Grinnell calls them,and mean to be happy doing my part in the home. I have wasted too muchtime already."

  "You have done your part splendidly," cried Gail with brimming eyes,letting the chicken slip unnoticed from her hands as she threw one armaround Faith's waist; "and now that--" She bit her tongue just in timeto keep the wonderful secret from tumbling off, and flushed furiously.

  "And now that what?" questioned the other girl, without the faintesttrace of suspicion in her voice.

  "Now that this hard year is over, we are going to do a littlecelebrating even if we can't afford it," answered Gail, thinkingrapidly. "Will you make a caramel cake for our dinner? Mrs. Grinnell isso fond of it, and I know it will hit the right spot with the minister.It was his suggestion that he tell--" Again she stopped in confusion.

  "About the mortgage money," Faith finished. "Well, he certainly hasearned the right. We have a lot to thank him for. Do you know who isloaning the money, or is that still a secret from you, too?"

  "No, Mr. Strong told me, but he wants the privilege of telling the restof you, so I promised to keep still."

  "Oh!" There was a long pause, during which both girls busied themselveswith the chickens; and then Faith ventured the question, "Is it JudgeAbbott?" Gail smilingly shook her head. "Nor Dr. Bainbridge?" Again thebrown head shook. "Then it is Mrs. Grinnell. I thought of her in thefirst place--"

  "You are wrong again. All the money she has is tied up in her farm andin the house in Martindale."

  "Is it anyone in town?"

  "No."

  Faith was plainly puzzled. "Man or woman?"

  "Both," answered Gail after a slight hesitation.

  "Do I know them?"

  "About as well as I do."

  "Where do they live?"

  "In Martindale."

  "Who can it be?" pondered the girl.

  "You might guess all night and never get it right," laughed Gail. "Youbetter give it up. Tomorrow is time enough for little girls to know."

  "For little girls to know what?" demanded Peace, as the noisy quartetteburst breathlessly in from school.

  "What we are to have for dinner tomorrow night," answered Gail, glancingwarningly at Faith.

  "Tomorrow night? We have dinner at noon."

  "Tomorrow we don't. We'll have lunch at noon and dinner in the evening."

  "Bet there's comp'ny coming!" shouted the smaller girls.

  "Who?" asked Hope, almost as much excited.

  "The minister and his family, and Mrs. Grinnell."

  "What for?" questioned Cherry, for company was rare at the little brownhouse.

  "Why, to eat up those chickens, of course," answered Peace. "Will therebe enough to go around? Hadn't I better hack the head off from another?"

  "Don't you fret! Mike weighed the hens after he killed them, and one isa seven-pounder, and the other weighs eight. That surely ought to beenough to satisfy your appetites."

  "Well, I bony a drumstick! There'll be four this time."

  "Yes, but suppose we have to wait," suggested Cherry. "The others mayeat them all up."

  "Oh, Gail, must we wait?" cried Peace in alarm, suddenly remembering howtiny the dining-room was.

  "No, dear, there will be room for all," answered the mother-sister. "ButI shall expect all of you to be little ladies and not quarrel overdrumsticks or wishbones. One's guests must always be served first, youknow."

  "Isn't it too bad," sighed the child pensively, "that we can't be ourown guests sometimes and have just the piece we want?"

  "You ought to be thankful to have any part of it," Faith spoke up. "Ifcompany wasn't coming, we shouldn't have killed the hens."

  "I _am_ as thankful as I can be," answered Peace, brightening visibly."Cherry, come help me scour the silver. I forgot it last night, and ifcomp'ny is coming, we want everything fine. Besides, the time goesfaster when you're busy, and already I can hardly wait for tomorrownight to come. Seems 's if it never would get here with those roastedhens."

  But in due time the eventful night arrived, and with it the selectcompany who were to join in the little celebration. With eager, shiningeyes, Peace ushered in the guests, who chanced to come all together, andas she relieved them of their wraps and led them into the shabby parlor,she chattered excitedly.

  "You don't like drumsticks the best, do you, Mr. Strong? And neitherdoes Mrs. Grinnell. I heard her say so lots of times. She likes thewings. I want something that ain't so skinny. That's why I always choosedrumsticks. There are four in this affair--four drumsticks, I mean. Youdidn't think I meant comp'ny, did you? Each hen had two legs, you know;but there are nine people to eat, counting Glen, though, of course, heis too little for such things yet; and the drumsticks won't anywherenear go around, s'posing every one of you should want one. When we haveonly one hen, Cherry and Allee and me always fight over who is to havethe drumsticks. Last time Gail settled it by eating one herself, andgiving the other to Hope. That won't happen today, though, 'cause thereis company."

  "Aren't you giving away family secrets?" interrupted Mrs. Grinnell,trying to look severe.

  "Oh, no! You already know about it, and the minister ain't s'prised atanything. I just thought I'd speak about it, 'cause I've bonied onedrumstick myself, if someone else doesn't eat them all up first. Andsay, folks, if any of you get a wishbone in your meat, will you
save itfor me? Cherry's making a c'lection and has six already. I haven't butthe one I asked Mr. Hartman for, and they make the cutest penwipers forChristmas. Supper--dinner is 'most ready, I guess. Gail made _lots_ ofstuffing--dressing, I mean. And Faith's cake is just fine, and thecustard pies are the beautifulest she ever made. They are all extra,'cause you are here. We don't often get such nice things to eat, butthis is a special 'casion. When supper is over the rest of the girlswill help me do the talking, but now they are every one busy exceptAllee and me, and Allee's getting dressed. There's someone at the door.I hope it ain't more comp'ny. S'posing it is, wouldn't that be the worstluck,--the very night we have roast chicken!"

  Before Peace could reach the door to see who was there, however, Mr.Strong swung it wide open, and reaching out into the dusk, drew in asweet-faced, motherly, old lady with silvery hair, and the familiartall, gray man of the broker's office, exclaiming in his hearty, boyishfashion, "Mrs. Campbell, Doctor, I am so glad you have come! I wasbeginning to fear you had missed the place."

  "Missed the place? Now, Brother Strong, I am insulted,--after the numberof times I have been here! Good evening, ladies. Mother, I want you tomeet Mrs. Strong and Mrs. Grinnell. Hello, Peace, where is--"

  "Have you come for dinner?" demanded that young lady, with frigiddignity, wondering where she had seen that kindly face before, andsecretly wishing they had delayed their coming until a more convenienttime.

  "Yes, I have," he answered decidedly, "and I am as hungry as a bear!"

  "Oh, dear," thought Peace, "there goes a drumstick! Hungry folks alwayswant them." But though her face lengthened, she did not voice suchsentiments, and started for the kitchen, saying, "I must tell Gail, so'sshe'll set you a plate for sup--dinner. Is that lady going to stay?"

  "That lady is my wife. If you have any fault to find with us fordropping in unannounced, just scrap it out with Brother Strong, for heinvited us."

  "_I'm_ not finding fault," Peace answered haughtily, turning once moretoward the door, "but there's no telling what Faith will do. I betterwarn them now."

  "And at the same time you might tell Abigail that someone in the parlorwants to see her," laughed the genial voice.

  Peace disappeared through the door like a flash, and they heard hershrill voice call, "Oh, Gail, Faith, there are some folks here forsupper what weren't invited. Do you s'pose there is hen enough now? And,oh, yes, he wants to see you right away, Gail!"

  The oldest sister paused in the act of lifting the beautifully brownedbirds from their nest of dressing, dropped the carving set, shoved thepan back into the oven, and with flushed cheeks and glowing eyes,hurried for the parlor with such a buoyant step that the other sistersfollowed wonderingly. She paused an instant in the doorway, smiled atthe little company within, and then straight to the white-haired ladyshe went, and kissed her, saying happily, "I have never seen you before,Mrs. Campbell, but I shall love you dearly."

  "Not that, Gail," tenderly answered the stranger, holding the tall girlclose. "Call me Grandma."

  "And me Grandpa," added the gray man, drawing Gail out of the woman'sarms and kissing her blushing cheek.

  "Now she'll give him a drumstick sure," sighed Peace; "and s'posing heshould ask for four!"

  "This is Faith, the baker and my right-hand man," she heard Gail saying,"and Hope, our sunbeam; Charity, the scholar; and Peace, the--"

  "Mischief-maker, heart captivator, and worth her weight in gold,"finished the familiar voice which Peace could not quite place in hermemory. "Kiss me!"

  Passively she allowed him to embrace her as he had greeted the othersisters, and then squirming out of his arms, she backed into a corner,where she frowned impartially on the excited group, all talking at once,while she tried to puzzle out how this man could be "Grandpa" when allher own relatives had long since been carried away by the angels.

  "I'll bet he is a make-believe," she told herself; "and he's got themall fooled proper. Maybe he wants the farm, seeing old Skinflint didn'tget it. I am going to ask Mrs. Grinnell. She had sense enough to runwhen the kissing began."

  Peace slipped noiselessly through the nearby door, and fled to thekitchen, where their kind neighbor was busy dishing up the forgottendinner, demanding, "Is he really a grandpa we didn't know anythingabout, or is he a make-believe _frog_?"

  "Make-believe frog!" echoed matter-of-fact Mrs. Grinnell. "Do you meanfraud? Well, he certainly ain't a fraud, Peace Greenfield! He's a bigman. Everyone in the state knows him, pretty near. He is Dr. Campbell ofthe University. 'Tisn't every little girl that can have anadopted--Peace, I am afraid you and Cherry will have to wait until therest are through eating."

  "That's where you are mistaken," returned Peace with energy. "Gail saidonly last night that there was room for all."

  "But she wasn't expecting the Campbells for supper."

  "Oh, dear, if that ain't always the way! Gail, must I wait?"

  Gail had just hurriedly entered the kitchen, fearful lest the forgottendinner was spoiled, but seeing the great bowl of gravy on the table, andMrs. Grinnell busy mashing the potatoes, she sighed in relief andstopped to answer, "I am afraid you must, dear."

  "After you said we wouldn't have to?"

  "I didn't look for Grandpa and Grandma Campbell until later, Peace. Wecan't ask _them_ to wait."

  "Faith and Hope might for once. They _never_ have to!"

  "Faith is to serve dinner, and Hope is needed at the table."

  "Which I s'pose means Cherry and me ain't needed," cried thedisappointed child.

  "Peace! I am ashamed of such a little pig."

  "It ain't piggishness, Gail. I don't want a whole hen, I want just adrumstick," protested Peace, with two real tears in her eyes.

  "Oh, dear, now we are in for a scene," sighed the older girl, anxious toavert the storm. "Now be reasonable, Peace. If you will wait like a goodlittle girl, you shall have a drumstick. Look at Cherry,--she doesn'tmake a fuss at all. You will be sorry by and by if you cry and get youreyes all red."

  "Is there to be a s'prise?" asked Peace in animated curiosity.

  "Yes, _such_ a splendid one!"

  "I'm not going to cry, Gail. Those two tears just got loose 'fore I knewit. I will stay in the parlor with Cherry all right, but don't take toolong a time eating dinner, and _don't_ forget my drumstick."

  With this parting warning she flew back into the front room andannounced, "Dinner is ready, folkses! Faith, tell them where to sit; andsay, you all better eat fast, 'cause Gail says there is a big s'prisecoming."

  Slamming the door behind them as they filed out into the dining-room,she sat down in the nearest chair and faced Cherry with a droll look ofresignation, saying, "Well, Charity Greenfield, how do you like beingone of the children and having to wait every time we have comp'ny? WhenI have a family of my own, I'll make the visitors do the waiting."

  "I don't mind it much," answered Cherry, serenely. "There is a heap ofvictuals cooked. Mrs. Grinnell said she guessed we must have beenexpecting a regiment."

  Peace sniffed the air hungrily, rose with deliberation from the rocker,tiptoed to the door, opened it a crack and peeked out at the merrydiners. Then she let go of the knob with a jerk, wheeled toward Cherryand whispered, "Just as I 'xpected! That man _has_ got a drumstick andhe just gave Allee one. He's stuffing her for all he's worth. Firstthing we know, she will be sick."

  "Yes, and you banged that door, too, so they must have heard you," saidCherry indignantly.

  "Maybe 'twill hurry them up. I don't see _how_ I can wait."

  "Get a book and read. Then the time will seem shorter."

  Peace rocked idly back and forth a few turns, patching her companion inmisery, who seemed so absorbed in her story that even the thoughts of nodinner did not disturb her; then she stalked over to the batteredbookcase, drew out a big, green-covered book which evidently had beenoften read, for the binding was in rags, and sat down on the rug todigest its contents.

  "'Bright was the summer of 1296. The war which had desolated Scotland
was then at an end,'" read Peace slowly, spelling out the long,unfamiliar words and finding it dry reading. She turned the yellowedpages rapidly in search of pictures, but found none. She skipped severallines and began again to read, "'But while the courts of Edward, or ofhis representatives, were crowded--' oh, dear, what does it mean? Thereain't a mite of sense in using such long words. Cherry, what is thisbook about?"

  "'Scottish Chiefs?'" said the sister, looking up indifferently. "I don'tknow. Ask Hope. She had to read it last year when they studied Englishhistory."

  "I thought maybe 'twas about Indians. I didn't know other things werecalled chiefs. My, I can smell dinner awfully plain! They've been at itlong enough to have finished, seems to me. I'm going to peek again."

  "You better not let that door slam," warned Cherry, "or Gail will begetting after you."

  "I don't intend to. It slipped the other time. There goes anotherdrumstick!" she wailed dismally, forgetting to speak in whispers; andthe amazed guests beheld a flushed, distressed face popped through thewide crack of the door, as rebellious Peace called in bitterindignation, "Remember, all the family haven't had dinner yet, andchickens don't grow on every bush!"

  "Peace!" gasped poor, mortified Gail.

  "Ha-ha-ha!" roared the minister, and President Campbell called after thelittle figure which had vanished behind the closed door once more, "Thatis right, Peace! You needn't stay in there another minute. Here isplenty of room for you and Cherry in my lap."

  The only answer was the sound of a choking sob from the adjoining room,and the college president started to his feet with remorse in his heart,pleading, "Let me get her! It's too bad to shut them off there to waitfor us older folks to eat dinner. I know from experience."

  But Gail stopped him, saying firmly, "No, it was very naughty of her todo that, and she can't have any dinner at all now until she hasapologized."

  "You are hard on her."

  "She must remember her manners. I resign my authority to you and Grandmain a few hours," she answered laughingly, "but until then she must mindme."

  "_Please_ let me bring them out here with us, anyway," he urged. "Shewill apologize; and around the table is a good place for the big's'prise' she is expecting."

  "Very well," she answered reluctantly.

  Excusing himself to the little dinner party, he disappeared behind theparlor door, whispered a few words to the conscience-stricken culprit inthe corner, and in a surprisingly short time reappeared with two smilinglittle girls.

  Peace's eyes were red, and one lone tear stood on the rosy cheek, butshe marched up to the table, bowed, and said with some embarrassment,but in all sincerity, "Ladies and gentlemen, I've already told Grandpa,and he said it was all right--I apologize. I s'pose you are hungry, sameas I, and that's what has kept you busy eating for so long. I shouldn'thave hollered at you from the door like I did, but if you wanted thatdrumstick as bad as I do, you'd have hollered, too. Now can I have mydinner? Cherry, you sit in half of Allee's chair. Faith, Hope will giveyou a piece of her place, and I am to have half of Grandpa's. That's allhis plan, so come along, Faith. Please pass me my drumstick. You'vealready blessed it, haven't you?"

  "Peace!"

  "Now, Gail, please don't scold! This is the last day in the little brownhouse, you know--"

  "What!" burst forth, a chorus of dismayed voices.

  "Ain't that _mordige_ settled yet?" demanded Peace.

  "Oh, yes. I had a long talk with Mr. Strong, and we settled thatquestion forever and all time, I hope. Nevertheless, you aren't going tostay here any longer."

  A hush fell over the five younger girls, though Gail was smiling happilywith the rest of the little company, and even Baby Glen seemed toappreciate the situation, and cooed gleefully, as he pounded the tablewith his spoon.

  "It's just as I 'xpected," Peace blurted out at length. "I said I betyou wanted the farm yourself, seeing that old Skin--Mr. Skinflint didn'tget it."

  He threw back his head and laughed loud and long; then the old facesobered, and he said, "No, it isn't that, Peace. We--Grandma and I--wantyou to come and live with us. Gail says yes. What is your answer?"

  "All of us?" whispered Hope in awestruck tones, remembering with freshfear the midnight conference of a few weeks before.

  "All of you!"

  "Gail, too?"

  "Yes, indeed!"

  "Haven't you any children yourself?" asked Allee, not exactlyunderstanding the drift of remarks.

  "No, dear. The angels came and took away our two little girlies beforethey were as big as you are."

  "But six is an awful many to raise at once," sighed Peace. "Do you thinkyou can do it?"

  "I will try if you will come."

  "Do you live in Martindale?"

  "Yes."

  "Is your house big enough?"

  "It has ten big rooms and an attic. Won't that do?"

  "Y--es. Do you lick?"

  "Do I lick?" he echoed in surprise.

  "When we are bad, you know."

  "Oh! Well, I can, but I don't very often. I am pretty easy to get alongwith; but folks have to mind. I am fond of _good_ children."

  "I'm _usually_ good. I have been bad today, but I am ever so sorry now.I always am when it's too late to mend matters. But I don't want you tothink I am always such a pig and have to 'pologize for my dinner. Yes,I'll come to live with you, and of course the others will. Mrs. Grinnellsays you are an awfully nice man."

  "I am sure I thank Mrs. Grinnell," he answered with twinkling eyes,bowing gravely to the embarrassed lady across the table.

  "But what I can't see is how you came to pick us out to take home withyou,--_Mr. Tramp!_" She started to her feet in astonishment, havingsuddenly fitted the familiar face into its place in her memory.

  "At your service, ma'am."

  "Ain't you my tramp?"

  "Yes."

  "Then you are just fooling about our going to live with, you."

  "Not at all. I mean every word of it. Ask Grandma, ask Brother Strong,ask Gail, any of them."

  "But what about the tramp?" she half whispered, still too dazed tounderstand.

  "That is rather a long story," he smiled, stroking the tight ringlets ofbrown on one side of him, and the bright, golden curls on the other. "Ayear ago last spring I tried to be ill--play sick, you know; and thedoctor told me a vacation of tramping was what I needed to put me intune again. Having some pet theories in regard to the tramp problem ofthis country, I decided to take his words literally, so I turned trampmyself--just for a little time, you see. That is how you saw me first. Itold my wife it was a case of love at first sight, and I became so muchinterested in this brave little family that I have kept watch eversince.

  "Here was a family without any father and mother, and there were afather and mother without any family. You needed the one and we neededthe other. But at first the way didn't seem clear. I was given tounderstand that you didn't want to be adopted, and as I found that Gailwas legally old enough to take care of the family, I was just on thepoint of preparing to play guardian angel instead of grandfather, when Ichanced upon some old church records telling about your owngrandfather's death. It gave a brief account of his life, and I wasastonished to find that I knew him well,--in fact, as my big brother."

  "Tell us about it," pleaded Hope, as he paused reminiscently.

  "When I was a little shaver my father was a seaman, captain of a ship;but his whole fortune consisted of his vessel, his wife and son. Motherand I often used to go with him on his trips, but for some reason heleft me at home the last time he set sail, and he never came back. NewOrleans was his port. Yellow fever broke out while he was there, and sofar as I have been able to find out, every soul of his crew died of it.I had been left with a neighbor who had her hands full looking after herown children; so, when word came that my parents were both dead, shesent for the town officers, and told them I must go to the poor-farm. Iwas only about the size of Allee, here, but I knew that the poor-farmwas a place much dreaded, and rather than be tak
en there, I tried to runaway. Your grandfather found me. He was one of our nearest neighbors andknew me well, so when I sobbed out the whole terrible story into hissympathetic ears, he adopted me on the spot. He wasn't more than adozen years old himself, but he had a heart big enough to take in thewhole world, and when he had coaxed me home with him and told his motherabout my misfortune, I knew I was safe. They would never send me awayagain. So Hiram Allen became my big brother, and the Allen home was minefor ten long years. Then an uncle of mine whom everyone had thought wasdead put in appearance and took me to sea on a long voyage which coveredthe greater part of four years. When I returned, Mother and Father Allenwere dead and the younger fry had gone West,--no one seemed to knowwhere. Then and there I completely lost sight of them, and it was onlyby chance that I--"

  "Grandpa's name wasn't Hi Allen," mused Faith aloud, with a puzzled lookin her eyes. "It was Greenfield, just like ours."

  "Yes; that is one reason, I suppose, why I never found my big brother ofmy boyhood days. You see, he had a stepfather. His own parent wasdrowned at sea when he was a tiny baby, and his mother married again; sohe was known all over the place as Hi Allen instead of Hi Greenfield,which was his real name. When he grew to manhood and entered theministry he decided to take his own name. But, though I dimly rememberedhaving heard people say that Mr. Allen wasn't Hi's own father, I neverheard his real name spoken, to my knowledge, and I never once thoughtof the possibility of his assuming it in place of his stepfather's.

  "When I discovered your grandfather's identity only a few days ago, theway seemed suddenly open to me. Hi Allen had shared his home with mewhen I was an orphan; I would share my home with his littlegranddaughters, alone in the world and in trouble,--for by this time Ihad heard about the mortgage and the battle being fought in the littlebrown house to keep the family together. Mothering this big brood is toogreat a task for Gail. She needs mothering herself. We want to adoptyou, mother and I. Will you let us; for the sake of the dear grandfatherwho did so much for me?"

  His face was so full of yearning tenderness that tears came to the eyesof the older members of the queer little party, and even the childrenhad to swallow hard.

  "I have talked the matter over with Gail, and she agrees if the rest ofyou will consent. I am not a millionaire, but we are pretty well fixedin a material way and can give you a great many pleasures and advantagesthat the little town of Parker can never offer. There are fine schoolsin the city, and college for Gail. We have a piano and violin and allsorts of music, a horse and buggy, a big barn, and a splendid yard in anice locality, with plenty of room for tennis or any other kind ofgymnastics. Maybe some day there will be an automobile--"

  "I don't care about pianos and nautomobiles," interrupted Peace. "It'sthe kind of people you are that I am thinking about. Mrs. Grinnell saysyou're the president of a big college and everyone knows you. If that'sso, you ought to be pretty nice, I sh'd think. _I_ like you, anyhow, andI b'lieve you'll like us, too. But I'm an awful case, even when I don'tmean to be. Maybe you would rather--didn't I--weren't you--I saw you inSwift & Smart's store!"

  "Yes, my lady! Twice in the city I have seen you and Allee, and bothtimes I thought surely you knew me, but I don't believe you did."

  "No, I didn't. I 'member now. It was you who gave us that gold moneywhen we were selling flowers. But you look different with new clothes onand a clean face."

  "Why, you little rascal! Wasn't my face clean when I came here to getsomething to eat?"

  "It might have been, but it was prickly looking with the mustache allover your chin, and I like you lots better this way. I almost didn'tknow you the night you got supper for us, either."

  "And the rice burned."

  "And I broke Bossy's leg and you sent us Queenie to take her place, andFaith said I was worse than Jack of the Bean Stalk, and--I bet you _are_the fellow that pinned the money to the gatepost and grain sacks! Now,aren't you?"

  "I am afraid I am."

  "You told me once before that you weren't."

  "No, I didn't. I just asked you if it wouldn't be a queer kind of_tramp_ who could do such a thing. Isn't that what I said?"

  "Y--es," she finally acknowledged. Then the puzzled frown in herforehead smoothed itself away and she wheeled toward the oldest sisterwith the triumphant shout, "There, Gail, didn't I tell you he was aprince in disgus--disguise? Now ain't you sorry you didn't spend themoney? She has got it all saved away yet. I must kiss you for that,Grandpa, even if it didn't do us any good." She threw her arms,drumstick and all, about his neck and gave him a greasy smack,immediately rubbing her lips with the back of one hand.

  "Aha! That's no fair," he protested. "You rubbed that off."

  "No, I didn't. I just rubbed it in. Thank you, I don't care for any pietonight. Somehow this drumstick filled me up full. I can't eat a bitemore. Have you been waiting all this time for me? Well, let's go backinto the parlor then, and do the rest of our talking. I've sat on thetip edge of nothing until I am tired. There's more space in the frontroom."

  "Do you know, Peace Greenfield," cried Mr. Campbell, pretending to feelinsulted at her intimation that he had not given her a large enoughshare of his chair, "the first time I ever called at your house, Ifound you sitting on the gatepost,--the _gatepost_, mind you,--about sosquare," measuring with his hands; "and just as I turned in from theroad, you began to sing, 'The Campbells are coming, oho, oho!' What kindof a reception do you call that? And tonight you weren't even going togive me any supper."

  "Oh," she hastily assured him, "I didn't mean you by that song. I usedto think that the Campbells were little striped bugs that eat up thecucumber plants, and the very morning that you came here for breakfast Ifound two in the garden. What are you laughing at? I know better now,but I truly didn't have a notion what your name was then. You must haveknown I didn't. But I am awfully glad you came and that you kept comingeven when I was bad and made you work so hard. I am sorry, but nevermind, I am _deformed_ now."

  "Deformed, child? Where?"

  "Right here in my heart! I am going to be as good as gold all the timeafter this. I think the angels must have sent you. We've always wanted afirst-class grandfather and grandmother, but we never 'xpected to get'em until we found our own inside the Gates some day. Just the same, Ispoke to God about it, and He probably had the angels hunt you up. So Ihave _deformed_ and now I'll be real good. I'm truly sorry I was such aselfish pig about wanting a drumstick tonight. I s'pose that's why thedrumstick filled me up so quick and didn't leave any room for pie.Custard is my favorite."

  "Perhaps that is the reason," he agreed, quite as serious as she. "Wealways are happiest when we are unselfish. Now, let's forget all aboutthe badness and just remember the goodness. I have some of the mostsplendid plans for what we shall do when I have my six girls at homewith me. What beautiful times we shall have, mother!"

  "How can we ever thank them?" whispered bright-eyed Gail to Mrs. Strong,under cover of the lively conversation at the other end of the table.

  "By loving them," promptly answered the little woman, offering up aprayer of thanksgiving that the brave little orphan band had found sucha beautiful home. "They are noble people and have hungered all theirlives for just that very thing."

  "But love seems such a little thing to give for the blessings we shallenjoy from their hands."

  "Ah, my dear, that is where you are mistaken, Love is _everything_."

  THE END.