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He woke early the next morning. This was rare for him; he usually slept like a bear in midwinter. Perhaps the creaking of the windmill all through the night made his slumber light. Another noise had disturbed him, the sewing machine. Its whirr had come up to him from the open window of the living-room. He knew mother and sister were sewing hard, that on the morrow the poor little stranger might be suitably clad. He had brought upon them this extra work! And this was only the beginning. If the child’s mother was not found they must buy clothes as well as food; and this would take a lot of his sister’s money.,“Clarence will tell the men where to instal their teams,” the hostess reflected. The boy, who had fought shy of this mere woman’s party, had spent the afternoon in the barn.,“Come here Betty, till I clean yer face. Where is that boy Moses? I know he had a hand in this. Drat him anyhow,” said the incensed Mrs. Wopp.,“I can dance, too,” she said with childish pride.,One brilliant Sunday Mr. Wells paced up and down in the sunshine before his little church. An ardent lover of nature he was admiring the beautiful shades of the foliage on either hand and the gorgeous masses of golden-rod that lifted feathery heads to the sun. Presently seeing two or three vehicles approaching he retired into the church.,Hot water, lotions, a mother’s tender hands, best of all, a mother’s comprehending heart,—it is wonderful what cures these can make. In an hour Billy was comparatively at ease. His sore body still ached, and his eyes “felt like red fire on the Fourth,” he said; but the world seemed less dark, and he was glad his mother had not taken him at his word and left him to bear his trouble alone.,The broad shaft of sunlight that flooded the dining-room where Nell Gordon sat was suddenly darkened. Looking up she saw the tall straight figure of Howard Eliot at the doorway.,Billy threw both arms around her and hugged her.,How the missionary box would jingle! How the heathen would sing for joy! While on the Wopp table carrot pudding could become a diurnal felicity!,Clarence, however, when questioned, declared, “I haven’t seen the little shaver since dinner.”,“There’s Mose allers ready fer a sitdown, a sort of kerlapsible verlise.”,“Billy! You said you weren’t hurt, but you are!” Alarmed, she rose and switched on the light, pulled off the bandage, and turned faint at the wreck of the bright, clean boy who had left her that afternoon. “My boy! You’re dreadfully hurt! I must send for Doctor Carter, and—”.