"She's out some place," said Mrs. Bailey. "Feeding the hens, I presume likely. I'll tell her good-by for you, Pippin!" He shook hands with Old Man Blossom, who was only too eager to be friends. "I'm all friends, Pippin!" he cried in eager, quavering tones. "Honest I am! You find my little gal, and you can pray yourself black in the face and I won't say a word. It just took me that way, you know; you prayin' as slick as a Gospel shark, and Nipper's wheel out in the shed all the time--tee hee! You're smart, Pippin! Ain't any pious goin' to get round you, hey? 'Tother way round, hey? Gorry! that is rich!" He grew purple, and the bed shook under him. "Hold on there!" said Pippin. "Don't you go and have another on me. I'm goin'." And he bolted. "I'm comin' out to the gate with you!" said Jacob. "Take a look at the stock as you go?" Pippin nodded gravely. The two went out together to the great barn, fragrant with hay; patted the sleek farm horses, rubbed the noses of the calves. Jacob pointed out briefly the merits of each animal; Pippin responded with suitable encomiums. Both men were absent and constrained. It was not till they reached the gate that Jacob Bailey spoke out. Leaning against a post, he drew out his jack knife, looked about for a stick, and finding one, began to whittle. "Well!" he said at length. "So you found your way here. How do you like?" "First-rate!" said Pippin. "I never saw a place I liked so well." Jacob whistled "Yankee Doodle" (his one tune) carefully through; then-- "How about comin' back?" he said. And as Pippin was about to speak, "I mean comin' to stay! There now, I've out with it," he added. "Here it is! Me and m' wife have took a liking to you, and so has all the inmates. I never saw 'em take so to any one, unless 'twas Cap'n Parks, and he's an old friend. What I would say is, Pippin, we're gettin' on in years, and we need young help. We've no boys of our own; I've got a nevy, but--never mind about that now! We'd like first-rate to think that you'd come back bimeby to stay." "Do you hear that?" Pippin asked himself silently. "He would trust me; knowin' all there is to know, he'd take me right in! Now wouldn't that--" He turned to Mr. Bailey with shining eyes. "You're real good, sir!" he said simply. "You're--you're _darned_ good! I don't know how to say what I feel, but I feel it all the same. Now--want me to say what I've ben thinkin'?" "Sure!" assented Jacob with a grave nod. Pippin looked about him vaguely. "Woodpile yonder!" Jacob nodded over his shoulder. Pippin went to the pile and selected a stick with great care, squinting along it to observe the straightness of the grain. Returning with his prize, he produced his own knife, and silence reigned for a moment while he removed the bark, Jacob critically regarding him the while.