"Hain't I tol' yo' to keep clar of thet thar stove?" she cried, distractedly, as she hurried to examine the child's injuries. "Now yo' got burned. Hit'll larn yo' somethin'. Lemme see yo' han'. Now, whut'll yore Paw say?" But the thought of his "Paw" brought no comfort to Ambrose. Fortunately there had been little water in the pan. Most of it had poured over the hearth. Some had splashed over the youngster's clothes, and his hand was a trifle burned. From the degree of distress manifested he might have been undergoing torture. Mollie sprang from the table and ran to Maria's side. "I know what to do," she cried. "Get some soda right away. That's what Lucy did when I spilled coffee on my fingers." "Fetch hit. Hit's thar on th' shelf." Maria nodded toward the cupboard. Stephen, realizing that Mollie could not reach the shelf, climbed on a chair and secured the package of soda. Maria was having her hands full trying to manage the unruly Ambrose. She was glad to receive assistance. She had never had any before in her life. She had heard orders given and had always obeyed. Now she could give orders herself. "Fetch that cloth, thar," she commanded. "Be still, honey, Mammy's goin' ter fix hit," she assured Ambrose, as she took the fat, pink fist in her hardened palm. "Hyar, yo' Steve, we doan' need yo'. Yo' git busy and tote thet bucket uf swill down ter th' hawgs. Pete's thar. He'll tell yo' whut ter do." Stephen hesitated, looking down at his clothes. He had been dressed to travel to a school. They were not his oldest clothes. They were not even his every day clothes. Everything about the premises looked unclean. He wondered if he ought to carry such a big, unsavory bucket in such close proximity to his new suit. Then he remembered that the trunk which had been packed for him had not arrived. There was only the bag, and it contained no other suit; only toilet articles and night clothing. Some inner sense told him that the trunk would never come. There had certainly been some awful mistake. Again his lips quivered but the courageous spirit that had endeared him to everyone he had ever known enabled him to suppress the tears, as he had done the night previous, and to nerve his slight frame for what was before him. "G'wan. Do as I to' yer. Doan stan' there a-gawpin'," exclaimed Maria. "Pete'll make yo' move quicker'n that, afore yo' hev ben hyar long." Stephen stooped, carefully clutched the loathsome pail and staggered with it out of the door and along the path to the hog pen.