the causeway, and parted with a hearty kiss. Mrs. Downs
seemed like a second Wealthy, almost, she had been so kind and
thoughtful all that busy day.

Papa was sitting in the rocking-chair, by the stove, when she went
back. She stopped to kiss him as she passed, and proceeded to set the
table and get supper. Mrs. Downs had started them with a supply of
bread, butter, and milk; but the tea and sugar came out of one of the
Tunxet boxes, and so did the tumbler of currant-jam, opened in honor
of the occasion. Wealthy had made it, and it seemed to taste of the
pleasant old times. Eyebright did not care to think much about Wealthy
just then. The tide was drawing over the causeway, cutting them off
from everybody else in the world. She felt lonely and the least bit
afraid, in spite of papa's being there; and only keeping very busy
till bedtime saved her from homesickness, which she felt would be a
bad beginning, indeed, for that first evening in her new home.

Next morning was fair. All the days had been good so far, which was
fortunate, for a half-settled house is a dismal place enough in rainy
weather. Eyebright opened her eyes, and after one bewildered stare
began to laugh, for through the slats of her "coop," she could
distinctly see papa, half-dressed, and brushing his hair in his, on
the other side of the entry. This was not to be endured, so after
breakfast, while he went to the village for some provisions, she set
to work with great energy on her plan for reforming the bedroom walls.
This was to cover them with "picture papers." There was an abundance
of material for the purpose at hand, for her mother had taken Harper's
Bazar and Frank Leslie's Illustrated for several years; and as she
saved all the back numbers, a large pile had collected, which Wealthy
had carefully packed. These Eyebright sorted over, setting aside all
the pictures of cows, and statesmen, and steamboats, and railroad
trains for papa's room, and keeping the kittens, and dogs, and boys,
and girls, and babies for her own. She fastened the papers to the
laths with tacks, and the ceilings were so low that she was able to do
all but the very top row herself. That she was forced to leave for
papa. So hard did she work that the whole of his room was done before
he appeared, climbing the path, with a big bundle under one arm, a
basket in his hand, and looking very warm and tired.

"It's a hard pull up the shore," he said, wiping his forehead. "I
shall ha