kitchen dragging heavy logs, and poking the
fire, and Letitia quite admired him, but her great-great-grandmother
simply scolded. "You are a most unhandy boy," said she. "You can have
had little training in making hearth fires."

However, the flames leaped high into the great chimney mouth, when
Captain John Hopkins and his wife entered.

"How pleasant it is, and how thankful we ought to be to have a good
warm room to enter," said Great-great-great-grandmother Letitia
Hopkins, although she looked very grave. The sick neighbor was very
sick unto death, it was feared, and she was a good woman and a good
neighbor.

Josephus Peabody stayed all night and slept wrapped up in a homespun
blanket beside the fire, but the next morning it was hardly daylight
before Goodman Cephas Holbrook came for him. Cephas Holbrook was a
very stern man, and he believed in the rod. Before Josephus left he
had just one chance and he improved it. It was while Mr. Holbrook
was partaking of a glass of something warm and spicy which
Great-great-great-grandmother Letitia Hopkins mixed for him. It was a
cordial of her own compounding and a good thing for the stomach on a
bitter morning, and this morning was very bitter.

Josephus whispered to Letitia: "He will give me an awful licking when
we get home, and I am not afraid, honest. But if I can get hold of
that key, I mean to go into that book this very night."

Letitia looked frightened.

"You had better--" began Josephus, and he nodded meaningly.

Letitia knew what he meant, but she had no chance to reply, for Mr.
Holbrook had finished his cordial and had Josephus by the hand, and
was jerking him rather forcibly out of the door.

"A froward child, I fear," remarked Captain John Hopkins when they
had gone.

"Yes," assented his wife.

"He is afraid of Injuns when there are none, too," said
Great-great-grandmother Letitia.

"That is an evil thing, too," said her father. "It is distrusting the
Almighty to fear where is nothing to fear. A froward child, and I
trust that Goodman Holbrook will not spare the rod."

Letitia was very sure that he would not, and she pitied poor Josephus
Peabody with all her heart. She also pitied herself more than usual
that day, for the cold was stinging, and she was put to hard tasks,
and she felt forlorn at the thought that her little brother in the
hardships of the Past might that very night strive to make his
escape. Gradually her own resolve grew. She was h