but did not make the speed they desired,
for they jumped behind the fences whenever they heard a wagon coming,
and were obliged to stop often, besides, for Freddy to take breath. By
the time they reached Cross Lots--a thriving little town with a
saw-mill--it was pretty late; and if it had not been for the bright
light of the moon and stars, they might have been a little disheartened.

They took a seat on a stump near the saw-mill, and prepared to talk over
the situation. A lonesome feeling had suddenly come upon them, which
caused them to gaze wistfully upon the "happy autumn fields" and the
far-off sky.

"Stars look kind o' shiny--don't they?" said Fred, heaving a sigh.

Willy forced a gay tone.

"What s'pose makes 'em keep up such a winking? Like rows of pins, you
know,--gold pins; much as a million of 'em, and somebody sticking 'em
into a great blue cushion up there, and keeps a-sticking 'em in, but out
they come again."

"I never heard of such a silly idea in my life," sneered Fred.
"Pins!--H'm!"

"Why, can't you tell when a fellow's in fun, Fred Chase? Thought I meant
real pins--did you? The stars are worlds, and I guess I know it as well
as you do."

"Worlds? A likely story, Bill Parlin! Mother has said so lots of times,
but you don't stuff such a story down _my_ throat."

"Don't believe your mother!" exclaimed Willy, astonished. "Why, I always
believe my mother. She never made a mistake in her life."

Fred laughed.

"She don't know any more'n anybody else, you ninny! only you think so
because she makes such a baby of you."

Willy reddened with sudden shame, but retorted sharply,--

"Stop that! You shan't say a word against my mother."

"But you let me talk about your father, though. What's the difference?"

"Lots. You may talk about father as much as you've a mind to," said
Willy, scowling; "for he no business to whip me so. He thinks boys are
pretty near fools."

"That's just what my father thinks," returned Fred.

Whereupon the two boys were friends again, having got back to their one
point of agreement.

"If I had a boy I wouldn't treat him so,--now I tell you," said Willy,
clinching his little fists. "I'd let him have a good time when he's
young."

"So'd I!"

"For when he's old he won't want to have a good time."

"That's so."

"And I wouldn't be stingy to him; I'd let him have all the money he
could spend."

"So'd I," responded the ungrateful Fred, who had probably had more
do