deep-toned voice was wonderfully musical, and to Hugh it
sounded almost as though he were singing whenever he spoke. He never
grew tired of hearing the old blacksmith talk; though they would not
allow him to be a mere visitor, but, by asking many questions, kept
Hugh in the conversation.

The little fellow had been placed in a high chair. It looked of very
ancient vintage, Hugh thought, when first sighting it. Seeing the
look on his face the good lady of the house said in a voice that she
tried to keep from vibrating:

"It was our Joel's chair; somehow we have managed to keep it intact
through all the years. There was a time when I dreamed of some day
seeing this boy seated at my table in his father's high chair. But
your small friend, Hugh, fills a long vacant spot. I could almost
fancy he belonged there, he seems so like----"

Deacon Winslow must have seen that his wife was getting on forbidden
ground, for just at that moment he broke in with a question that
demanded an answer from Hugh; and so the subject was dropped. But
Hugh understood, and he felt his boyish heart throb with genuine
sympathy for this splendid couple, who had yearned to have a house
full of children, but somehow found their dearest wish set aside by a
mysterious decree of Providence.

They had a merry time at the table. Little Joey was as bright as
Hugh had ever known him to be, and fairly captivated the aged pair
with his prattle. The old lady in particular hung upon his every
word, as though in an ecstacy of delight. She anticipated his
childish wants, and, really, little Joey could never have sat down to
such a bountiful feast as on that memorable occasion.

Then the meal being ended they repaired again to the cheery fire.
The deacon put on fresh wood, and the crackle of the blaze was very
delightful on that cold night. Hugh had already spoken of the long
walk ahead of him, and how, perhaps, he had better postpone his visit
for another occasion, so as to get the child back home before it grew
too late.

"Don't think of it, son," said Deacon Winslow instantly, and in a
tone that would not be denied. "When the time comes I'll hitch my
horse to the big sleigh; we'll wrap the child up as snug as a bug in
a rug; and be over to your house in a jiffy. What if he does get a
bit drowsy; let him take a nap. I'm sure he'll be safe in the loving
arms of grandma."

At his mention of that last word the old lady hugged the child, and
b