"Ain't there nothin' I can donate?" inquired Mat Maguire anxiously. "A
rag rug, now--why wouldn't that be a good thing? The missus makes 'em
by the dozen and our house is full of 'em. We're breakin' our necks
mornin', noon, and night on 'em. A couple to lay down here wouldn't be
so bad, I'm thinking. You could put one beside your bed and another
before the door to wipe your feet on. They'd cheer the room up as well
as help keep you warm. Just say the word, sonny, and you shall have
'em."

"I'd like them tremendously."

The kind-hearted Irishman beamed with pleasure.

"Sure, they'll be better out of our house than in it," remarked he,
trying to conceal his gratification. "You can try stumbling over 'em a
spell instead of me. 'Twill be interesting to see which of us breaks
his neck first."

It was amazing to see how furniture came pouring in at Ted's bachelor
quarters during the next few days. The chintz curtains were finished
and hung; the Maguire rugs made their appearance; Mr. Turner produced a
shiny alarm clock; and Nancy a roll of colored prints which she had cut
from the magazines.

"You'll be wanting some pictures," said she. "Tack these up somewhere.
They'll brighten up the room and cover the bare walls."

Thus it was that day by day the wee shack in the woods became more
cheery and homelike.

"I've managed to hunt up a few trap's for you," called Mr. Wharton one
morning, as he met the boy going to work. "If you want to run over to
the cabin now and unlock the door, I'll send a man over with them."

Want to! Ted was off in a second, impatient to see what new treasures
he was to receive. He had not long to wait, for soon one of the farm
trucks came into sight, and the driver began to deposit its contents on
the wooden platform which sloped from the door down to the river.

As Ted helped the man unload, his eyes shone with delight. Could any
gifts be rarer? To be sure the furniture was not new. In fact, some of
it was old and even shabby with wear. But the things were all whole,
and although they were simple they were serviceable and perhaps looked
more in harmony with the old-fashioned curtains and the quaint rugs
than if they had come fresh from the shop. There was a chest of
drawers; a rocking chair, a leather armchair, and a straight wooden
chair; a mirror with frame of faded gilt; a good-sized wooden table;
and, best of all, a much scarred, flat-topped desk. Ted had never owned
a desk in all his