gly.

"That won't bring back my stocking," declared the housekeeper. "Half a
pair of stockings--humph! that's no good to anybody, unless it's a
person with a wooden leg."

"I'll get you a new pair, Mrs. MacCall," said Tess. "Of course, I'm sort
of responsible for Billy, for he was given to me."

"You'll be bankrupt, I'm afraid, Tess," chuckled Agnes, "if you try to
make good for all the damage a goat can do."

"But it won't cost much to keep him," said Tess, eagerly. "You know,
they live on tin cans, and scraps, and thistles, and all sorts of
_cheap_ things."

"Those stockings weren't cheap," declared the housekeeper as she took
her departure. "They cost seventy-five cents."

"Half your month's allowance, Tess," Dot reminded her, with awe. "Oh,
dear, me! Maybe Billy Bumps will be expensive, after all."

"Say! Ruth hasn't said you can keep him yet," said Agnes. "He looks
dangerous to me. He has a bad eye."

"Why! he's just as kind!" cried Tess, and immediately walked up to the
old goat. At once Billy stopped shaking his head, looked up, and bleated
softly. He was evidently assured of the quality of Tess Kenway's
kindness.

"He likes me," declared Tess, with conviction.

"Glo-ree!" ejaculated a deep and unctuous voice, on the heels of Tess'
declaration. "Wha's all dis erbout--heh! Glo-ree! Who done let dat goat
intuh disher yard? Ain' dat Sam Pinkney's ol' Billy?"

A white-haired, broadly smiling old negro, stooped and a bit lame with
rheumatism, but otherwise spry, came from the rear premises of the old
Corner House, and stopped to roll his eyes, first glancing at the
children and then at the goat.

"Whuffor all disher combobberation? Missee Ruth! Sho' ain' gwine tuh
take dat ole goat tuh boa'd, is yo'?"

"I don't know what to do, Uncle Rufus," declared Ruth Kenway, laughing,
yet somewhat disturbed in her mind. She was a dark, straight-haired
girl, with fine eyes and a very intelligent face. She was not pretty
like Agnes; yet she was a very attractive girl.

"Oh! we want to keep him!" wailed Dot. She, too, boldly approached Billy
Bumps. It seemed as though the goat knew both the smaller Kenway girls,
for he did not offer to draw away from them.

"I 'spect Mr. Pinkney made dat Sam git rid ob de ole goat," grumbled
Uncle Rufus, who was a very trustworthy servant and had lived for years
at the old Corner House before the four Kenway sisters came to dwell
there. "I reckon he's a bad goat," added the old ma