When they reached the little cottage, Mother Lemon sat spinning outside her
low doorway.

"Welcome, my man," she said when she finally saw, by squinting into the
sunlight, who it was that approached, "but drive off that dog."

"Look at him, Mother Lemon," said Gabriel, rather sadly. "Saw you ever one
so handsome?"

"Looks are deceiving," returned the old woman, "and I have a cat."

"I will see that he does not hurt your cat. I have to confess that I spent
your penny for him, Mother Lemon."

"Then I have to confess that you are no worthy son of your father,"
returned the old woman, "for he would not have spent it for anything."

"I know it was a keepsake," replied Gabriel, "but the dog was in danger of
his life and I had no other money to give for him."

"You are a good-hearted lad," said Mother Lemon, going on with her
spinning. "Now take your dog away, for if my cat, Tommy, should see him it
might go hard with his golden locks."

"Alas, Mother Lemon, I have come to ask you to keep him for me."

"La, la! I tell you I could not keep him any longer than until Tommy laid
eyes on him; neither have I any liking for dogs, myself, though that one, I
must say, looks as if he had taken a bath in molten gold."

"Does he not!" returned Gabriel. "When first I saw him some boys were
misusing him and he seemed to be but a brown cur with a dingy, matted coat;
and I could wish that he had turned out to be of no account, for the look
in his eyes took hold upon my heart; but I rubbed him well in the brook,
and now see the full, feathery tail and silky ears. He is a dog of high
degree."

"Certain he is, lad," replied the old woman. "Take him to the town and sell
him to some lofty dame who has nothing better to do than brush his curls."

"I would never sell him," said Gabriel, regarding the dog wistfully. "He is
lonely and so am I. We would stick together if we might."

"What prevents? Do you fear to take him home lest your father boil him down
for his gold?" and Mother Lemon laughed as she spun.

"No. My father, I know, would not give him one night's lodging, and in my
perplexity I bethought me to ask you the favor," and Gabriel's honest eyes
looked so squarely at Mother Lemon that she stopped her wheel. "I cannot
keep the dog," continued the boy, "and my heart is heavy."

"Your father is a curmudgeon," declared the old woman, for the more she
looked at Gabriel, the more she loved him. "What is it? Would he grudge
food