is my calf, you know," Amberley went on. "Here, Simon, come
along."

Simon Jr., was already approaching, with an eye to business, and even as
his master spoke, he had got his nose into a certain wide, baggy pocket
in the old army trousers, and was poking it about in very familiar
fashion.

"Wait a minute, Simon," said Amberley, drawing himself gently away.
"Here, little girl, you take a bit of the salt in your hand and he'll
come for it."

"Yes," came the assenting voice; and Simon Jr., once convinced that the
pocket was closed to him, approached the child with easy confidence, and
not only devoured the proffered salt, but continued to lick the grimy
little palm when it was quite bare of that pleasing stimulant.

Then the child laughed, a queer little short, grown-up laugh, and
declared: "I like Simon."

"So do I," said Amberley, casting about for some new blandishment.
"Let's come up to the shanty and draw a picture of him."

"Yes," the little sphinx replied.

Amberley held out his hand, with a poignant dread lest she should refuse
to take it; a thrill of pleasure, almost as poignant, went up his arm
and so on to his heart, as the tiny hand rested in his own.

"What is your name?" he asked. They were rounding the big boulder and
beginning the short ascent to the cabin.

"Eliza Christie, and I'm six years old," she replied, tugging the while
at his hand, to help herself over a rough place. Then,--"What's yours?"
she asked.

"Simon Amberley."

"Same's the calf," she commented. "Was either of you named for the
other?"

"Yes; the calf was."

"I was named for my sainted grandmother. Bella Jones says Eliza's an
ugly name, but Ma says if 't was good enough for my sainted grandmother
it's good enough for me."

"_I_ think Eliza's a real pretty name," Amberley declared in a tone of
conviction, as he warded off the renewed advances of Simon. "If ever I
have another calf I shall call it Eliza."

"I like both the Simons," Eliza announced, with flattering openness.

To such a declaration as this, modesty forbade any reply, and the two
went on in silence to the cabin door, closely followed by the
white-nosed gourmand.

Outside the lean-to was a bench, roughly modelled on Amberley's
recollection of the settle outside his mother's kitchen door.

"You'd better set there, Eliza," he said; "It's prettier outside than
in;" and he lifted her to the seat, and left her there, with her fat
little legs sticking straigh