s eye.

'If you tell me where Farmer Smale lives, I will drive this pig there,'
he said.

The directions were given. Tim soon had the pig before him, and all his
troubles were forgotten in an occupation which reminded him of old
times.

'Perhaps doing the farmer and the pig a good turn will bring me
something good,' he thought.

There was a tremendous grunting in the farmyard when the wanderer
rejoined his companions. Farmer Smale came out, followed by his wife, to
see what was causing such a commotion.

'Well, you are a smart boy,' the farmer said. 'You must come in and rest
and have some tea, for pig-driving is a tiring business.'

'It's not tired I am, sir. I only wish I had a chance to drive pigs
every day. You will not be wanting a boy to help on your farm, will you,
sir?'

'Why, my lad, you don't look cut out for hard work,' the farmer said,
for Tim's stunted growth, and the large head, out of proportion to his
small body, made him look less strong than other boys.

'I can work hard with my hands,' he said. 'It is only lessons and
figures which bother me.'

'Well, I am afraid I have no berth here for you, my lad. Besides, I
could not take a boy I knew nothing about, even if he was kind enough to
bring home my pig.'

Tim's face fell. He looked bitterly disappointed.

'Have you no people of your own, my dear?' asked Mrs. Smale, and Tim
thought she had the kindest face he had ever seen.

'Now, missus, you go in and get tea ready for this little chap,' her
husband said.

He wanted to have her out of the way, for he knew how soft-hearted his
wife was. She never could turn away a tramp or a beggar from her door;
she gave food and shelter to all stray dogs and cats, and a blackbird in
a cage outside the window bore witness to her kind nature. She had
rescued a nest full of fledglings from some cruel boys and had tried to
bring them up by hand. Only one survived, and although she had set it
free when it was old enough to take care of itself, it often flew back
to its old home, the door of which was always left open.

While they were having tea, Mrs. Smale drew from the boy all his sad
little story, and of course she wanted the farmer to give him a home.

'Will Ford is getting old, and needs some help in attending to the
animals,' she said.

'I had a lot to do with cattle on Father's farm,' Tim broke in eagerly,
'and I know all there is to know about pigs, though I am no scholar.'

The farmer smiled.