e
asked.

The other man eyed him sharply. "Smoke much?" he inquired.

"Smoke a pipe sometimes."

"Careful with your matches?"

David nodded.

"That's all I think about," said the farmer. "These woods is apt to
catch fire jest when I'm about ready to cut. The man that squatted here
before--he died about a month ago--didn't smoke. He was careful, he
was."

"I'll be real careful," said David, humbly and anxiously.

"I dun'no' as I have any objections to your staying, then," said the
farmer. "Somebody has always squat here. A man built this shack about
twenty year ago, and he lived here till he died. Then t'other feller
he came along. Reckon he must have had a little money; didn't work at
nothin'! Raised some garden-truck and kept a few chickens. I took them
home after he died. You can have them now if you want to take care of
them. He rigged up that little chicken-coop back there."

"I'll take care of them," answered David, fervently.

"Well, you can come over by and by and get 'em. There's nine hens and a
rooster. They lay pretty well. I ain't no use for 'em. I've got all the
hens of my own I want to bother with."

"All right," said David. He looked blissful.

The farmer stared past him into the house. He spied the solitary
umbrella. He grew facetious. "Guess the umbrellas was all mended up
where you come from if you've got down to one," said he.

David nodded. It was tragically true, that guess.

"Well, our umbrella got turned last week," said the farmer. "I'll give
you a job to start on. You can stay here as long as you want if you're
careful about your matches." Again he looked into the house. "Guess
some boys have been helpin' themselves to the furniture, most of it," he
observed. "Guess my wife can spare ye another chair, and there's an old
table out in the corn-house better than that one you've rigged up, and I
guess she'll give ye some old bedding so you can be comfortable.

"Got any money?"

"A little."

"I don't want any pay for things, and my wife won't; didn't mean that;
was wonderin' whether ye had anything to buy vittles with."

"Reckon I can manage till I get some work," replied David, a trifle
stiffly. He was a man who had never lived at another than the state's
expense.

"Don't want ye to be too short, that's all," said the other, a little
apologetically.

"I shall be all right. There are corn and potatoes in the garden,
anyway."

"So there be, and one of them hens had better be