"Just the way I have it figured," said Mickey. "But she's mine, and I'm going to _keep_ her. If her back is fixed, I'm going to have it done. I don't want any one else meddling with my family. You haven't heard anything from the Carrel man yet?" "No," she said. "My, I wish he'd come!" cried Mickey. "So do I," said the nurse. "But so far Mickey, I think you are doing all right. If she must be operated, she'd have to be put in condition for it; and while I suspect I could beat you at your job, I am positive you are far surpassing what she did have." "Well I know that too," said Mickey. "But surpassing nothing at all isn't going either far or fast. I must do something." "If you could bring yourself to consent to giving her up----" suggested the nurse. "Well I can't!" interposed Mickey. "Just for a while!" continued the nurse. "Not for a minute! I found her! She's mine!" "Yes, I know; but----" began the nurse. "I know too," said Mickey. "Gimme a little time." He studied the problem till he reached his grocery. There he thriftily lifted the cloth to peep, and with a sigh of satisfaction pursued his way. Presently he opened his door, to be struck by a wave of hot air and to note a flushed little face and drawn mouth as he went into Peaches' outstretched arms. Then he delivered the carefully carried clover and the following: "_I got these from a big, pink field bewildering, That God made a-purpose for cows and childering. Her share is being consumed by the cow, Let's go roll in ours right now._" "Again!" demanded Peaches. Mickey repeated slowly. "How could we?" asked Peaches. "Easy!" said Mickey. "'Easy?'" repeated Peaches. "Just as easy!" reiterated Mickey. "Did you see it?" demanded Peaches. "Yes, I saw it to-day," said Mickey. "It's like this: you see some folks live in houses all built together, and work at selling things to eat, and wear, and making things, and doing other work that must be done like doctors, and lawyers, and hospitals; _that's a city_. Then to _feed them_, other folks live on big pieces of land; the houses are far apart, with streets between, and beside them the big fields where the wheat grows for our bread, and our potatoes, and the grass, and the clover like this to feed the cows. To-day Mr. Bruce didn't play long, so I went walking and stopped at a house for a drink, and there was the nicest lady; we talked some and she give me our supper in that pretty basket; and she sent you the clovers from a big pink field so sweet smelly it would 'most make you sick; and there are trees through it, and lots of birds sing, and there are wild roses and fringy white flowers; and it's quiet 'cept the birds, and the roosters crowing, and the wind comes in little perfumery blows on you, and such milk!" "Better 'an our milk?" asked Peaches. "Their milk is so rich it makes ours look like a poorhouse relation," scoffed Mickey. "Tell me more," demanded Peaches. "Wait 'til I get the water to wash you, you are so warm."