[Illustration: "THERE, AMONG THE BLOSSOMING BRANCHES, CLUNG THE DICKEY
BOY."]

Miss Elvira stood farther off. Mr. Fairbanks took the lid entirely off.
They all peered into the box. There lay an old clay pipe and a roll of
faded calico. Mr. Fairbanks took up the roll and shook it out. "It's an
apron," said he. "It's his father's pipe, and his mother's
apron--I--swan!"

Miss Elvira began to cry. "I hadn't any idea of anything of that kind,"
said Mrs. Rose, huskily. "Willy Rose, what _have_ you got there?"

For Willy, looking quite pale and guilty, was coming in, holding a muddy
silver teaspoon. "Where did you get that spoon? Answer me this minute,"
cried his mother.

"I--took it out to--dig in my garden with the--other day. I--forgot--"

"Oh, you naughty boy!" cried his mother. Then she, too, began to weep.
Mr. Fairbanks started up. "Something's got to be done," said he. "The
wind's changed, and the May storm is comin' on. That boy has got to be
found before night."

But all Mr. Fairbanks's efforts, and the neighbors' who came to his
assistance, could not find the Dickey boy before night or before the
next morning. The long, cold May storm began, the flowering apple-trees
bent under it, and the wind drove the rain against the windows. Mrs.
Rose and Miss Elvira kept the kitchen fire all night, and hot water and
blankets ready. But the day had fairly dawned before they found the
Dickey boy, and then only by the merest chance. Mr. Fairbanks, hurrying
across his orchard for a short cut, and passing Dickey's tree, happened
to glance up at it, with a sharp pang of memory. He stopped short.
There, among the blossoming branches, clung the Dickey boy, like a
little drenched, storm-beaten bird. He had flown to his one solitary
possession for a refuge. He was almost exhausted; his little hands
grasped a branch like steel claws. Mr. Fairbanks took him down and
carried him home. "He was up in his tree," he told his sister, brokenly,
when he entered the kitchen. "He's 'most gone."

But the Dickey boy revived after he had lain a while before a fire and
been rolled in hot blankets and swallowed some hot drink. He looked with
a wondering smile at Mrs. Rose when she bent over him and kissed him
just as she kissed Willy. Miss Elvira loosened her gold watch, with its
splendid, long gold chain, and put it in his hand. "There, hold it a
while," said she, "and listen to it tick." Mr. Fairbanks fumbled in his
pocket-book and drew out