"Why, Friend Morton, is it queer that we didn't turn thee out of doors or give thee in charge of the poormaster?" "I certainly am the most fortunate man in the world," I said, laughing. "I had broken myself down and was about to become very ill, and I started off in the dark and never stopped till I reached the shelter of Mrs. Yocomb's wing. If I should tell my experience in New York there'd be an exodus to the country among newspaper men." "Thee mustn't do it," protested Mr. Yocomb, assuming a look of dismay. "Thee knows I'm down on editors: I make thee an exception." "I should think you had; but they would not expect to be treated one hundredth part so well as you have treated me." "Well, bring thy friends, editors or otherwise. Thy friends will be welcome." "I fear I'll be selfish; I feel as if I had made too rich a discovery to show it to others." "Now, father, thee's had thy turn, and must go right out and let Richard take his breakfast and his medicine. I'm bent on making Dr. Bates say I'm the best nurse in town, and between such a lively patient and such a lively family I have a hard time of it." "Well, thee knows I always mind, mother," said the old gentleman, putting on a rueful look. "I do it, thee knows, to set the children an example. Good-by now; mother will make thee as hearty as I am if thee'll mind her." "Oh, I'm well enough to see _everybody_ to-day," I said with emphasis, and I imagine that Mrs. Yocomb gave as definite a meaning to my indefinite term as I did. "No one can stay long yet, but if thee continues to improve so nicely, we can move thee downstairs part of the day before very long." "At that prospect I'll mind as well as Mr. Yocomb himself," I cried gladly. "Mr. Yocomb, they are spoiling me. I feel like a great petted boy, and behave like one, I fear; but having never been ill, I don't know how to behave." "Thee's doing very well for a beginner. Keep on--keep on," and his genial visage vanished from the doorway. After I had my breakfast, Zillah flitted in and out with her mother two or three times. "Mother says I can look at thee, but I mustn't talk;" and she wouldn't. Then Adah, with her wide-brimmed hat hanging on her arm, brought me a dainty little basket of wild strawberries. "I promised to gather them for thee," she said, placing them on my table. "You did? I had forgotten that," I replied. "I fear my memory is playing me sad tricks. You have just gathered them, I think?" "What makes thee think so?" "Because their color has got into your cheeks." "I hope thee'll like them--the strawberries, I mean." I laughed heartily as I answered, "I like both. I don't see how either could be improved upon." "I think thee likes a city pallor best," she replied, shaking her head. I imagine that a faint tinge of the strawberry came into my face, for she gave me a quick glance and turned away.