‘Nobuddy takes care of me, anyhow,’ he grumbled. ‘If my papa wasn’t a mean fing I’d orter to have a black nurse with a white cap and apurn, like Billy Thomas, ’n’ then I couldn’t git losted so offul easy. An’ you all never cared a cent about it either, or you’d a founded me quicker ’n this—’n’ I’ve been hungry fur nineteen hours, ’n’ I guess I’ve been gone till December, by the feelin’, but you was too lazy to found me ’f I freezed to def—’n’ there ain’t but one singul boy of me round the whole camp, ’n’ ’t would serveded you right if I had got losted for ever; then I bet you wouldn’t had much fun Fourth of July ’thout my two bits ’n’ my fire-crackers!’ It was an hour or two before peace and quiet were restored to the camp. The long-delayed dinner had to be eaten; and to Hop Yet’s calm delight, it was a very bad one. Dicky’s small wounds were dressed with sweet oil, and after being fed and bathed he was tucked lovingly into bed, with a hundred kisses or more from the whole party. A little rest and attention had entirely restored his good-humour; and when Dr. Paul went into the tent to see that all was safe for the night, he found him sitting up in bed with a gleeful countenance, prattling like a little angel. ‘We had an offul funny time ’bout my gittin’ losted, didn’t we, mamma?’ chuckled he, with his gurgling little laugh. ‘Next time I’m goin’ to get losted in annover bran’-new place where no-bud-dy can find me! I fink it was the nicest time ’cept Fourth of July, don’t you, mamma?’ And he patted his mother’s cheek and imprinted an oily kiss thereon. ‘Truth,’ said the Doctor, with mild severity, ‘I know you don’t believe in applying the slipper, but I do think we should arrange some plan for giving that child an idea of the solemnity of life. So far as I can judge, he looks at it as one prolonged picnic.’ ‘My sentiments exactly!’ cried Bell, energetically. ‘I can’t stand many more of these trying scenes; I am worn to a “shadder.”’ Dicky tucked his head under his mother’s arm, with a sigh of relief that there was one person, at least, whose sentiments were always favourable and always to be relied upon. ‘I love you the best of anybuddy, mamma,’ whispered he, and fell asleep. CHAPTER IV RHYME AND REASON A BUDGET OF LETTERS FROM THE CAMP MAIL-BAG ‘The letter of a friend is a likeness passing true.’ OUR friend Polly was seated in a secluded spot whence all but her had fled; her grave demeanour, her discarded sun-bonnet, her corrugated brow, all bespoke more than common fixedness of purpose, the cause of which will be discovered in what follows. [Picture: Polly was seated in a secluded spot] I. FROM THE COUNTESS PAULINA OLIVERA TO HER FRIEND AND CONFIDANTE, THE LADY ELSIE HOWARD. {100a} _Scene_: _A sequestered nook in the Valley of the Flowers_. CAMP CHAPARRAL, _July_ 6, 188–.