ought ye up to think yersel' a lady, the sooner ye get
rid of that notion the better, 'cos yell have to work here; we don't
keep no idle hands. Get off your hat an' cape now, an' come down as
fast's ye like, an' help set the table for dinner."

Miss Hepsy then whisked out of the room, and clattered down the
stairs in haste.

Lucy moved to the window recess, and stood looking upon the peace and
beauty without, until her eyes were brimming with tears. Then she
knelt down by the side of the bed, sobbing pitifully, "Mamma, mamma!
come back, O dear mamma! we have nobody on earth but you!"

IV.

THE NEW HOME.

Meanwhile Tom had gone on an exploring expedition. He investigated
every outhouse and shed, frightened the geese and turkeys into fits
by rushing through their paddock shouting at the pitch of his voice,
caught the superannuated mule by the tail, and made her fly off like
a four-year old, made friends with the savage watch-dog on the chain,
coaxed the pigeons to fly to him, and finally went off to the fields
in search of his uncle. On the road outside the farmyard gate he met
a team, driven by a big uncouth-looking man, dressed in coarse
trowsers, a red shirt, and a battered straw hat.

"You'll be one of the men, I guess," said Tom, stopping in front of
him. "Can you tell me where my Uncle Joshua is?"

The man grinned. "Air you Hetty's boy, youngster?"

"I'm Mrs. Hurst's son," corrected Tom proudly. "Who are you?"

"If I'm not yer Uncle Josh, I reckon he ain't be home terday,"
returned the man.--"Hi! up, Sally; you and me's not fit company, I
guess, for a city gent."

"If you _are_ Uncle Joshua, I beg your pardon I'm sure," said Tom
with his usual frankness. "Won't you shake hands, Uncle Joshua?"

Uncle Joshua took the thin, delicate hand in his own brown palm, and
looked at it curiously.

"Jes' as Hepsy said--Hetty's boy's more for ornament than use. Well,
youngster, now you're here ye'll work for yer bread, I hope. We're
poor folks here, an' can't keep idle hands. Ye'll hev to learn to
mind a team like this."

"I wouldn't mind if I'd a better horse, Uncle Josh," said Tom,
walking alongside of his uncle, and eying the hungry-looking steed
critically. "See his ribs. Don't you feed him ever, Uncle Josh?"

The man's face flushed angrily. "Shut up, younker!" he said savagely.
"Don't speak about things ye know nothing about."

Tom walked on a minute or two in silence, but in no way disconcerted.

"T