been
extended. So the pets were left in peace, and here they were, as I have
said, rabbits, birds, squirrels, cats, and other reptiles, all around the
child, and full of interest in her supper, and helping what they could.
There was a very small squirrel on her shoulder, sitting up, as those
creatures do, and turning a rocky fragment of prehistoric chestnut-cake
over and over in its knotty hands, and hunting for the less indurated
places, and giving its elevated bushy tail a flirt and its pointed ears a
toss when it found one--signifying thankfulness and surprise--and then it
filed that place off with those two slender front teeth which a squirrel
carries for that purpose and not for ornament, for ornamental they never
could be, as any will admit that have noticed them.

Everything was going fine and breezy and hilarious, but then there came
an interruption, for somebody hammered on the door. It was one of those
ragged road-stragglers--the eternal wars kept the country full of them.
He came in, all over snow, and stamped his feet, and shook, and brushed
himself, and shut the door, and took off his limp ruin of a hat, and
slapped it once or twice against his leg to knock off its fleece of snow,
and then glanced around on the company with a pleased look upon his thin
face, and a most yearning and famished one in his eye when it fell upon
the victuals, and then he gave us a humble and conciliatory salutation,
and said it was a blessed thing to have a fire like that on such a night,
and a roof overhead like this, and that rich food to eat, and loving
friends to talk with--ah, yes, this was true, and God help the homeless,
and such as must trudge the roads in this weather.

Nobody said anything. The embarrassed poor creature stood there and
appealed to one face after the other with his eyes, and found no welcome
in any, the smile on his own face flickering and fading and perishing,
meanwhile; then he dropped his gaze, the muscles of his face began to
twitch, and he put up his hand to cover this womanish sign of weakness.

"Sit down!"

This thunder-blast was from old Jacques d'Arc, and Joan was the object of
it. The stranger was startled, and took his hand away, and there was Joan
standing before him offering him her bowl of porridge. The man said:

"God Almighty bless you, my darling!" and then the tears came, and ran
down his cheeks, but he was afraid to take the bowl.

"Do you hear me? Sit down, I say!"

There could