s touching halfway to the
knee, were far too big for a boy of ten. They were red, too, as if all
the blood of his thin shoulders had run down his arms and through his
wrists, and stayed there. And besides being red, fingers, palms and
backs were lined and crinkled. They looked like the hands of a
hard-working, grown girl. That was because they knew dish washing and
sweeping, bed making and cooking, scrubbing and laundering.

But his head was all that a boy's head should be, showing plenty of
brain room above his ears. While it was still actually--and
naturally--large for his body, it looked much too large; not only
because the body that did its bidding was undersized, but because his
hair, bright and abundant, added to his head a striking circumference.

He hated his hair, chiefly because it had a hint of wave in it, but also
because its color was yellow, with even a touch of green! He had been
taunted about it--by boys. But what was worse, women and girls had
admired it, and laid hands upon it--or wanted to. And small wonder; for
in thick undulations it stood away from forehead and temples as if blown
by the wind. A part it had not, nor any sort of neat arrangement. He saw
strictly to that. Whenever his left hand was not busy, which was less
often than he could wish, he tugged at his locks, so that they reared
themselves on end, especially at the very top, where they leaned in
various directions and displayed what appeared to be several cowlicks.
At every quarter that shining mop was uneven, because badly cut by Big
Tom Barber, his foster father, whose name belied his tonsorial ability.

Below that wild shock of colorful hair was a face that, when clean,
could claim attention on its own account. It was a square-jawed little
face over which the red was quick to come, though, unhappily, it did not
stay. Its center was a nose that seemed a trifle small in proportion to
its surroundings. But the top line of it was straight, and the nostrils
were well carved, and had a way of lifting and swelling whenever his
interest was caught.

Under them was a mouth that was wide yet noticeably beautiful--not with
the soft beauty of a baby's mouth, or a girl's, and not because it could
boast even a touch of scarlet. It had been cut as carefully as his nose,
the lips full yet firm, their lines drawn delicately, but with strength.
It was sensitive, with a little quirk at each corner which betrayed its
humor. Above all things, its expre