e," patting his small chest.
"And I'm goin' to stay ever so long, I am. I want to see the pig and the
hens and the--and the orphan, and everything."

"So you shall," declared Thankful. "I'm glad enough to see you to turn
the house inside out if you wanted to look at it. And you knew all about
this, I suppose?" turning to Captain Obed.

The captain laughed aloud.

"Sartin I did," he said. "Miss Howes and I have been writin' each other
like a couple of courtin' young folks. I knew the commodore was goin'
to set sail today and I was on hand up to the depot to man the yards.
Forgive me for hookin' your horse and buggy, will you, Mrs. Thankful?"

Forgiveness was granted. Thankful would have forgiven almost anything
just then. The "commodore" announced that he was hungry and he was
hurried into the house. The cares of travel had not taken away his
appetite. He was introduced to Imogene, at whom he stared fixedly for
a minute or more and then asked if she was the "orphan." When told that
she was he asked if her mamma and papa were truly dead. Imogene said she
guessed they were. Then Georgie asked why, and, after then, what made
them that way, adding the information that he had a kitty that went dead
one time and wasn't any good any more.

The coming of the "commodore" brought a new touch of life to the High
Cliff House, which had settled down for its winter nap. Thankful, of
course, read Emily's letter at the first opportunity. Emily wrote that
she felt sure Georgie would be company for her cousin and that she had
conceived the idea of the boy's visit before leaving East Wellmouth, but
had said nothing because she was not sure mother would consent. But that
consent had been granted and Georgie might stay until Christmas, perhaps
even after that if he was not too great a care.

He was something of a care, there was no doubt of that. Imogene, whom he
liked and who liked him, declared that "that young one had more jump in
him than a sand flea." The very afternoon of his arrival he frightened
the hens into shrieking hysterics, poked the fat and somnolent Patrick
Henry, the pig, with a sharp stick to see if he was alive and not "gone
dead" like the kitten, and barked his shins and nose by falling out of
the wheelbarrow in the barn. Kenelm, who still retained his position at
the High Cliff House and was meek and lowly under the double domination
of his fiancee and his sister, was inclined to grumble. "A feller can't
set down t