ck cap on your head. Wonder who you
are. Guess you're a sparrow. I believe I'll get a book telling about
birds. They're interesting little devils. Look at him put his head back!
Just as though he meant to crack things wide open. By Jove! I have it!
Your name's Zephania!"

A baker's cart ambled by beyond the hedge, the driver leaning around the
corner of the vehicle to regard the cottage curiously. Out on the common
a bay horse, his halter-rope dragging under his feet, cropped the lush
grass.

"You're happy," murmured Wade. "The bird's happy. Zephania's happy. This
must be a happy village." He pondered a moment, gazing contentedly about
the cosy sunlit room. Then, "And I'm happy myself," he added with
conviction. And to prove it he began to whistle merrily while he
finished dressing. Presently there was a knock on the dining-room door.

"Yes?" responded Wade.

"Please, sir, what will you have for breakfast?" Being by this time
decently dressed, Wade opened the door.

"Hello!" he said.

"Good morning," answered Zephania.

If he had not been informed that her age was fifteen Wade would have
supposed Zephania's years to be not over a baker's dozen. She was a
round-faced, smiling-visaged, black-haired, black-eyed, ruddy-cheeked
little mite who simply oozed cheerfulness and energy. She wore a
shapeless pink cotton dress which reached almost to her ankles, and over
that a blue-checked apron which nearly trailed on the floor. Her sleeves
were rolled elbow-high and one little thin hand clutched a dish-cloth as
a badge of office. Wade stared dubiously at Zephania and Zephania smiled
brightly back.

"Look here, my child," said Wade, "how old are you, anyway?"

"Fifteen in March, sir."

"Next March?"

"No, sir, last."

"You don't look it."

"No, sir, folks say I'm small for my age," agreed Zephania, cheerfully.

"I agree with them. Do you think you're strong enough to do the work
here?"

"Oh, yes, sir. This is a very easy house to look after."

"Well," said Wade, hesitatingly, "you can have a try at it, but it seems
to me you're too young to be doing housework."

"I've always done it," replied Zephania, beamingly. "What'll you have
for breakfast, sir?"

"Coffee--can you make coffee?"

"Yes, sir, three ways."

"Well, one way will do," said Wade, hurriedly. "And you'll find some
eggs there, I believe, and some bread. You might fry the eggs and toast
the bread. I guess that will do for this morning."

"Ye