r Slocum has so
interested us that my wife (who is leading the Woman's Auxiliary Praying
Legion this afternoon or she would have come herself) wishes me to say
that she would like to receive one of these--a--little waifs into our
family on probation, as it were, and if satisfactory to both parties, to
bring it up--a--somewhat as our own, in the nurture and admonition of
the Lord."

Samantha waited, in breathless suspense. Miss Vilda never would fling
away an opportunity of putting a nameless, homeless child under the roof
of a minister of the Gospel, even if he was a Baptist, with a chiny blue
eye.

At this exciting juncture there was a clatter of small feet; the door
burst open, and the "unfortunate waifs" under consideration raced across
the floor to the table where Miss Vilda and Samantha were seated. Gay's
sun-bonnet trailed behind her, every hair on her head curled separately,
and she held her rag-doll upside down with entire absence of decorum.
Timothy's paleness, whatever the cause, had disappeared for the moment,
and his eyes shone like stars.

"Oh, Miss Vilda!" he cried breathlessly; "dear Miss Vilda and Samanthy,
the gray hen did want to have chickens, and that is what made her so
cross, and she is setting, and we've found her nest in the alder bushes
by the pond!"

("G'ay hen's net in er buttes by er pond," sung Gay, like a Greek
chorus.)

"And we sat down softly beside the pond, but Gay sat into it."

("Gay sat wite into it, an' dolly dot her dess wet, but Gay nite ittle
dirl; Gay didn't det wet!")

"And by and by the gray hen got off to get a drink of water"--

("To det a dink o' water"--)

"And we counted the eggs, and there were thirteen big ones!"

("Fir-teen drate bid ones!")

"So that the darling thing had to s-w-ell out to cover them up!"

("Darlin' fin ser-welled out an' tuvvered 'em up!") said Gay, going
through the same operation.

"Yes," said Miss Vilda, looking covertly at Mr. Southwick (who had an
eye for beauty, notwithstanding Samantha's strictures), "that's very
nice, but you mustn't stay here now; we are talkin' to the minister. Run
away, both of you, and let the settin' hen alone.--Well, as I was goin'
to say, Mr. Southwick, you're very kind and so 's your wife, and I'm
sure Timothy, that's the boy's name, would be a great help and comfort
to both of you, if you're fond of children, and we should be glad to
have him near by, for we feel kind of responsible for him, though h