The small boy lifted two frail arms, his lips quivering in fright and homesickness. Some feeling created by God rose insistent within Lafe. It was a response from the heart of the Good Shepherd, who had always gathered into his fold the bruised ones of the world. Lafe drew the child to his lap. "Poor little thing!" he murmured sadly. With curling lips, his wife stood watching the pair. "You're a bigger fool'n I thought you was, Lafe Grandoken," she said, turning away sharply. "I wouldn't make such a fuss over no one livin'. That's just what I wouldn't." She threw the last remark over her shoulder as if it were something she spurned and wanted to be rid of. Bobbie slipped from Lafe's arms and described a zigzag course across the kitchen floor toward the place where Mrs. Grandoken stood. His hands fluttered over Peg's dress, as high as they could reach. "I like you awful well, Mrs. Peggy," he told her, "and I just love your kisses, too, Mrs. Peggy dear. They made my stars shine all over my head." The cobbler's wife started guiltily, casting her eyes upon Lafe. He was silent, his patient face expressing melancholy sweetness. As far as the woman could determine, he had not heard the boy's words. Relieved, she allowed her eyes to rest upon Jinnie. The girl was looking directly at her. Then Jinnie slowly dropped one white lid over a bright, gleeful blue eye in a wicked little wink. This was more than Peggy could endure. She _had_ kissed the little boy several times during the process of washing the tear-stained face and combing the tangled hair, but that any one should know it! Just then, Peggy secretly said to herself, "If uther one of them kids get any more kisses from me, it'll be when water runs uphill. I 'spose now I'll never hear the last of them smacks." "Let go my skirt! Get away, kid," she ordered Bobbie. The boy dropped his hands reluctantly. He had hoped for another kiss. "Peggy," said Lafe, "can I hold him? He seems so sad." Mrs. Grandoken, consciously grim, placed the boy in her husband's lap. "You see," philosophized Jinnie, when she and the blind child were with the cobbler, "if a blind kid hasn't any place to live, the girl who finds 'im has to bring him home! Huh, Lafe?" Then she whispered in his ear, "Couldn't Bobbie join the 'Happy in Spite'?" "Sure he can, lass; sure he can," assented Lafe. Jinnie whirled back to the little boy. "Bobbie, would you like to come in a club that'll make you happy as long's you live?" The bright blind eyes of the boy flashed from Jinnie to the man, and he got to his feet tremulously. In his little mind, out of which daylight was shut, Jinnie's words presaged great joy. The girl took his hand and led him to the cobbler. "You'll have to explain the club to 'im, Lafe," she said. "Yes, 'splain it to me, Lafe dearie," purred Bobbie.