“Here, Toby,” he said--and it was to be seen that he was really too much affected even to attempt one of his speeches--“it's right that you should go, for I've known what it is to feel just as you do. What Lilly said about your having a home with us I say, an' here's five dollars that I want you to take to help you along.” At first Toby stoutly refused to take the money; but they both insisted to such a degree that he was actually forced to, and then he stood up to go. “I'm goin' to try to slip off after Job packs up the outside booth, if I can,” he said, “an' it was to say goodby that I come around here.” Again Mrs. Treat took the boy in her arms, as if it were one of her own children who was leaving her, and as she stroked his hair back from his forehead she said: “Don't forget us, Toby, even if you never do see us again; try an' remember how much we cared for you, an' how much comfort you're taking away from us when you go; for it was a comfort to see you around, even if you wasn't with us very much. Don't forget us, Toby, an' if you ever get the chance, come an' see us. Goodby, Toby, goodby.” And the kind hearted woman kissed him again and again, and then turned her back resolutely upon him, lest it should be bad luck to him if she again saw him after saying goodby. The skeleton's parting was not quite so demonstrative. He clasped Toby's hand with one set of his fleshless fingers, while with the other he wiped one or two suspicious looking drops of moisture from his eyes as he said: “I hope you'll get along all right, my boy, and I believe you will. You will get home to Uncle Daniel and be happier than ever, for now you know what it is to be entirely without a home. Be a good boy, mind your uncle, go to school, and one of these days you'll make a good man. Goodby, my boy.” The tears were now streaming down Toby's face very rapidly; he had not known, in his anxiety to get home, how very much he cared for this strangely assorted couple, and now it made him feel very miserable and wretched that he was going to leave them. He tried to say something more, but the tears choked his utterance and he left the tent quickly to prevent himself from breaking down entirely. In order that his grief might not be noticed and the cause of it suspected, Toby went out behind the tent, and, sitting there on a stone, he gave way to the tears which he could no longer control. While he was thus engaged, heeding nothing which passed around him, he was startled by a cheery voice which cried: “Halloo! down in the dumps again? What is the matter now, my bold equestrian?” Looking up, he saw Ben standing before him, and he wiped his eyes hastily, for here was another from whom he must part and to whom a goodby must be spoken.