vanished at a
stroke; and before Clare and Janet could ask what was the matter, she
was sobbing out all about the silly mistake to her kind aunt.

[Illustration: "Katie stood on the doorstep."]

[Illustration: "'I am afraid I have no berth here for you, my lad.'"]

ONE GOOD TURN DESERVES ANOTHER.

Tim Sullivan started from the town with a heavy heart, but as he left
the smoke and noise behind him, the pleasant sunshine and fresh autumn
breeze soon began to work a change in his spirits. It was good to see
green fields again, and he wished he could walk on and on, and never
return to the town life he disliked so much.

After all, what was to prevent him? His uncle had been reproaching him
that very morning for his idleness at school, and had told him he would
never be worth anything in the office.

'It is high time you were beginning to be of some use,' he had said. 'I
did not bargain to keep you for nothing when I took you in on your
father's death.'

And poor Tim knew it was hard on his uncle to have this addition to his
large family. He really did try to get on at school, but it was no good.
He could not learn, and the harder he tried the more stupid he seemed to
grow.

Before the death of his parents, when he lived such a happy life on the
little farm in Ireland, it was not so noticeable that he was not quite
like other boys. Lessons were not held of much account there, and no boy
of his age could have been more useful than Tim in all farm, field, or
garden work; so that it was a new experience for the poor boy to be
taunted with his uselessness and stupidity, and it caused him great
unhappiness.

As he trudged along, a familiar grunt suddenly made him feel he must be
in old Ireland again. He looked round and saw a pig rooting in the ditch
by the side of the road.

'Has he got astray?' he asked a man who was breaking stones close by.

'Likely enough,' was the answer. 'Farmer Smale's man was driving home
pigs from market yesterday, and I thought as he passed he was getting a
bit old for work--and pigs are uncommon difficult to drive too.'

'Not if you know the right way to set about it,' said Tim. 'Instead of
holloing and shouting and beating it with a stick, you should just stoop
down and catch the eye of the cratur, and sure he will go the way you
want.'

The man grinned. 'You're from the Ould Counthry--no need to tell me
that, my broth of a boy!'

Tim nodded, with an answering twinkle in hi