ittle kid, likes it because she's a
little girl, and they grow, and grow up together, and then--and
then----"

"Does hims marry her, an' live happy ever after?"

The question was disconcerting. But Steve did his best.

"Well, I can't just say, old fellow," he demurred. "You see, I hadn't
fixed that."

"But they allus does in my Mummy's 'tories," came the instant protest.

"Do they? Well, then I guess these'll have to," the man agreed. "We'll
fix it that way."

"'Ess. An' then----"

But the prompting failed in its purpose.

"An' then? Why--I guess that's just all. You see, when folks get
married, and live happy ever after, there's most generally no more story
to tell. Is there?"

"No." Then the child sat up. His appetite had been whetted. "Tell boy
'nother 'tory. Great big, long one. Ever so long."

Steve shook his head.

"Guess Uncle Steve's not great on yarns," he admitted. "You see, I was
kind of thinking. Say, how'd boy like to go with Uncle Steve, and see
the nice Auntie, and the little dear, with lovely, lovely curly hair and
blue eyes, and cheeks like--like----"

"'Ess. Us goes," the child cried, with a sudden enthusiasm. "Us finds
all the lakes, an' rivers, an' forests, an' wolves, an' bears, an' the
little dear. Boy likes 'em. Us goes now?"

The headlong nature of the demand set Steve smiling.

"Well, I guess we can't go till winter quits," he said. "We'll need to
wait awhile till it's not dark any more. Then we'll take An-ina. And
Julyman. And Oolak. And the dogs. How's that? Then, after awhile, when
boy's Pop and his Mummy come back, then maybe we'll come right back,
too. Eh?"

The anticipation of it all was ravishing to the child mind, and the boy
resettled himself.

"'Ess," he agreed, with a great sigh. "An' the little dear, an' the nice
Auntie. Us all come back." Then with infantile persistence he returned
to his old love. "More 'tory," he demanded. "'Bout debble-mens." Then,
as an after-thought: "Wot isn't, cos Uncle says they doesn't, an' An-ina
says him is when he wasn't, cos he can't be."

Steve sprang to his feet with a great laugh, bearing the little fellow
in his strong arms. He had accomplished his task and all was well.

"No more 'tory," he cried setting him on the ground. "All us men have
work to do. We need to help An-ina. Come on, old fellow."

And with a great feeling of relief and contentment he began the
re-adjustment of the furs which protected the little life which