ll heal the wound more quickly
than anything else."

He shook Mother Hubbard's hand, bowed to me, and stepped out into the
rain; and I watched him walk briskly forward until the mist swallowed
him up.

Two days afterwards I heard the sequel. The rain had cleared away and
the roads were fairly dry when I set off with the intention of walking
as far as Uncle Ned's. Before I had gone very far I overtook Farmer
Goodenough, who was journeying in the same direction, and almost
immediately afterwards we met Jane Brown.

"I was just comin' to see you, Miss Holden," she said, "but as you're
going my way I'll walk back with you if you'll let me. Mother wants to
know if you can take our photographs--hers and Joe's and mine--on
Monday."

I told her it would be quite convenient, and Farmer Goodenough began to
question her about her brother's home-coming. I hardly expected much
response, for Jane is not usually very communicative, but on this
occasion she was full of talk.

"I came o' purpose to say my say," she explained, "for I must either
talk or burst."

We encouraged the former alternative, and she began: "If you want to be
made a fuss of, and have people lay down their lives for you, you
mustn't stop at 'ome and do your duty; you must go wrong. Only you
mustn't go wrong just a little bit: you must go the whole hog an' be a
rank wrong 'un--kill your father or summat o' that sort--and then when
you come back you'll be hugged an' kissed an' petted till it's fair
sickenin'."

"Gently, lass, gently!" said Farmer Goodenough; "that sounds just a
trifle bitter."

"I may well be bitter; you'd be bitter if you saw what I see," she
replied.

I endeavoured to turn the conversation and to satisfy my curiosity.
"Where has your brother been, and what has he been doing all these
years?" I inquired.

"Oh, he tells a tale like a story-book," she replied impatiently. "I'm
bound to believe him, I suppose, because whatever else he was he wasn't
a liar, but it's more like a fairy tale than ought else. After he hit
father an' ran away he got to Liverpool, an' worked his passage on a
boat to Cape Town, an' for a long time he got more kicks than
ha'pence--and serve him right, too, _I_ say. He tried first one thing
an' then another, and landed up in Rhodesia at last, an' sought work
from a man who employed a lot o' labour. He says he wouldn't have been
taken on if the gentleman hadn't spotted him for a Yorkshireman.
'Thou'rt Yor