kind o' came on us gradual like. Jake an' me jist couldn't help
it. Ye see, his idea was always for a little boy with red hair, like
our Joey would 'a' been, an' I was always wantin' a little girl with
yellow curls. Well, Jake, he knowed what I wanted, and he said if we
seen a nice little girl with curly hair we'd take her; but I knowed his
heart was set on a red-headed boy all the same, an' I stuck out for a
boy. We talked about it so hard all the way there that we near forgot
to get off when we got to the station, an' only that Minnie Morrison's
aunt was there, we'd 'a' never moved. As it was, we forgot the basket
with the pound cake and the cookies and the home-made cheese--and--and
the crock o' butter," she faltered, with a contrite glance toward
Harriet Munn.

"Oh, my, what a pity!" groaned Miss Arabella, remembering all she had
suffered in toiling down the lane with the basket.

"It don't matter much, though," continued the narrator placidly. "Jake
said somebody'd get them that likely needed them worse than Minnie
Morrison. Well, in the afternoon, after we'd visited a while, Jake
hired a livery rig an' we drove out to the orphant home. We talked
quite a while to the lady that's head over all--the matron they call
her; an' then she took us into a room near as big as our mill, an'
there was about two dozen or more children playin' 'round. And the
very minit we got inside that door Jake he hollers out, 'Oh,
geewhittaker!' An' I seen his eyes were shinin' like a cat's in the
dark. An' there he was, starin' as if he'd found a gold mine, at the
wee, red-headed fellow we've got. An' no wonder, either; for he's as
like our Joey would 'a' been as two peas. The matron she saw Jake was
took with the wee fellow, an' she calls him over, an' Jake says,
'What's your name?' An' he says, as cute as cute, 'It's Joey.' An'
with that, Jake grabs him up, an' the little fellow climbed up to his
shoulder an' crowed like a little rooster, an' Jake looked near ready
to cry, he was that pleased. 'Well,' I says, 'I guess we've got our
orphant all right,' an' Jake says, 'Oh, Hannah, but your girl!' 'Never
mind the girl,' says I, 'this one was made for us, an' his name, too.'
Well, we jist turned 'round to tell the matron, when I sees a wee girl,
with curly hair, standin' straight in front o' Jake an' starin' at him,
with her lip quiverin'. That's the fair one o' the twins. An' she
says in a wee, wee voice, as if she was t