n', and done folks good too.

And, deary me, he was that patient and good and uncomplainin', you never
see! No, I ain't a-cryin'. This was a stranger, this man, you know, and
I make a p'int o' never cryin' about strangers.

There was a lot and a lot more kinds o' folks with bundles, but I'm only
goin' to tell ye about them four,--this time, any way.

Well, come pay day, these folks all come up afore the Head Man to be
settled with. And fust he called up the man that had the bundle all made
out o' things that had pricked him, and tripped him up, and scratched
him, and put him back on the road. And then he had up the man with the
money weighin' him down,--the money he'd kep' away from poor folks and
piled up on his own back. And then come the feller that was carryin' the
heavy bundle folks had put on him when 't wa'n't no fault o' his'n, and
that he might 'a' got red of a long spell back, if he'd only rec'lected
what the Head Man had said 'bout sech cases, and how they could be
helped.

I ain't a-goin' to tell ye what he said to them folks, 'cause 't ain't
my business, seems to me. Whether he punished either on 'em, or scolded
'em, or sent 'em off to try ag'in, or what all, never mind. Knowin' 's
much as I do about the ways o' that Head Man, I bet he made 'em feel
terrible ashamed, any way.

But when he came to the man with the bundle made out o' flesh and skin
and things, he looks at him a minute, and then says he, the Head Man
does, "Why," he says, "that's my own work! I made that bundle, and I
fixed it on your back all myself. I hefted and I sized it, and I hefted
you and sized you. A mite of a young one you was then. I made it jest
hefty enough for you to carry, not a bit heftier, no more nor less. I
rec'lect it well," he says. "I ain't forgot it. I never forgot it one
minute sence I fitted in on, though mebbe you kind o' thought by spells
that I had. And now," he says--No, I can't tell ye what he says. It's a
secret, that is. But I don't mind lettin' ye know that the man was
sat'sfied, perfec'ly sat'sfied. A Angel told me he was, and went on to
say the man was dreadful pleased to find he'd been wearin' a bundle the
Head Man hisself had made and fixed on him, heftin' it and sizin' it,
and heftin' him and sizin' him too, so's 'twa'n't too much for him to
carry. But he ain't carryin' it no more. The Angel said so.

The Boy that was Scaret o' Dyin'

VII

I have told you that little Lib was a delicate chi