"A BOY ON THE PLACE." BY HELENE J. HICKS. HAT does ail Debby and only Debby 's so sure of bein' taken in by them. "Did you speak, Jane?" "Yes; I said, 'What ails Debby and Towzer?' Debby's been goin' on for some time down there in the garden, and Towzer is barkin' in the distractedest way around the hay-stack down yonder in the meadow. I can't make out either Debby or Towzer; can you, Susan?" Susan, the youngest of the three Bently sisters,who owned to her fifty years, thus appealed to, came out from the roomy pantry, with her capborders flying, and her floury hands dripping tiny white flakes over Jane's clean kitchen, and upon the shining floor of the porch which overlooked both hill-side garden and meadow. A merry, contagious laugh from Susan's lips, quickly echoed by Jane, caused Debby to halt a moment in her frantic chase after some intruder, not visible to the two upon the porch. "It does-beat-all!" gasped Debby, as she paused; and then came an indistinct sentence, which the others failed to catch, and the dumpy figure hastened on again, at the same time throwing stones, sticks, clam-shells, and tufts of grass, at the object of her pursuit. "I do think, Susan, we ought to go down and help Debby; there 's no tellin' what it may be." "If only Debby would consent to having a boy on the place! He'd be so handy with her in the garden." Susan, the little woman, with tender voice, must certainly have had great loveliness in early youth, for traces of a sunny beauty lay still upon the good, fair face-in fact, gleams of a fair and beautiful youth were seen also upon the other two faces, but more clearly upon Susan's. "'Deed yes, Suse; that is what I tell Debby every summer. But you know what she says, it would make too much extra sewing for my old fingers, and more work for you in the baking and cooking, and, like 's not, only hinder her in the garden after all; and then she says, too, 'Where on earth is the boy to come from?' Debby always winds up with that, you know. There's some sense in that last, Susan, and that 's all the sense I see." "There is n't a mite in it, Jane, not a grain. Why, there's plenty of boys, and good ones, too, Tender-hearted little Susan had reached the garden gate at the conclusion of this speech, and she was about to open it, when a cry from Debby caused her to start back, and falling against Jane, knock that worthy woman quite off her feet. "Don't come in yet, Susan, for goodness' sake! These three hens have tuckered the life almost out of me.-There goes one over the fence! Stand back, Jane. Thank goodness! There goes another. Shoo! Bend down, Susan; your head 's in the way, and this is the meanest hen of the three. Shoo! She sees your head bobbin' up, Susan. Mind! There now,-shoo! There she goes; that 's the last. Thank goodness! I'm 'most tuckered out." Debby sat right down upon one of the beds without ceremony, fanning with her bonnet the round, red face, and moist brow. Susan and Jane, both convulsed with laughter, entered the garden, closing the gate carefully. "It does beat all, now," said Jane with pity for Debby, who was sitting there forlorn and exhausted. "The hens bother you uncommon, Debby; if you would only consent to let me and Susan help here a bit." "Help? As though you and Susan did n't have your hands full." "I say, Debby, do let us have a boy on the place." "Susan, Susan, you child! You don't know what you 're talkin' about; I don't want a boy in my garden; and a better reason, where 's the boy to come from, I 'd like to know? Yes, I'd like to know, Susan! If Providence should send one right down here under my nose,-so to speak,-why, I'd take him; but Providence don't trouble about such small matters, I reckon. It would seem silly." "Oh, Debby! don't say that; but you don't mean it, that 's one consolation," said gentle, motherly Susan, seeing the broad smile upon Debby's face. "Now then," said brisk, energetic Debby, rising, "since the hens are out of the garden, and I can breathe again, I want to know what ails Towzer? I did n't have time to think before." "A child, under the hay-stack! How on earth did it come here, and when?" Sure enough! What did ail Towzer? The lazy old dog was barking, howling, and chasing around the hay-stack down in the meadow in a frantic Susan, in her pity and bewilderment, never and unbecoming manner, very unlike his usually thought of questioning the child, therefore she only quiet and dignified conduct. stared, while Towzer, seemingly quite content with "It's a rat, as likely as not," said Jane, turning having accomplished his object,-that of bringing homeward. the family down to the meadow,-sat down and "Wait, Jane; listen!" It was Susan who spoke, panted, overcome with his exertions, as Debby had hurriedly and low. been after chasing the hens. "That is n't a rat, nor a hen cacklin' neither; it sounds like a cry," said Debby, looking sternly at the hay-stack. "It is a cry, girls! Come, Towzer is tormentin' something there, as sure as you live." Susan ran as nimbly as a young girl down the side-hill and across the road, and had reached the bars and entered the meadow before the two elder ones had come to the road. "Towzer, stop! Here, Towzer! " called Susan, and Towzer yelped and barked louder than ever, while the cry of a human voice came more distinctly at every step.. "What can it be?" cried Susan, breaking into a run as she neared the stack. Towzer, barking excitedly, met her, leading her quite around to the other side, where the object of his annoyance was found, crouched "A child!" cried Jane, looking over Susan's shoulder, in a helpless, befogged way. "A boy!" ejaculated Debby, aghast. Susan, mopping away the tears from her face, recovered tone and spirits in a flash. For a bright idea, such a brilliant idea, had come to Susan. "There's something queer about this, Debby; there's a Providence in this, mind it. Come, boy, come right out now, we 're friends." Debby stared, and Jane laughed nervously, while Susan assisted the big-eyed, famished-looking boy to his feet. "Your dog!" he gasped, crouching close to Susan's side. "Bless you! Towzer would n't hurt a fly," said Susan, to assure the frightened child. "He took my breakfast." The great, hungry eyes looked up to Susan, who said beneath her breath, "Lord pity us all!" 'Towzer, you thief!" said Jane, harshly, and with a desire to conciliate the boy. "What did your breakfast consist of, poor boy?" The famished lad made no reply to this question of Jane's, but the brown, hungry eyes were raised appealingly to Susan, and rested a moment upon Towzer, before they closed, and the long black lashes lay thick and dark upon the white, sunken cheeks. "Lord pity us all! He 's fainted dead away!" cried Susan, as she gathered the frail boy in her strong, motherly arms; and, without a word to astonished Debby and Jane, she strode like a determined general across the meadow, with Towzer quietly at her heels, up the hill, over the cool porch, through Jane's clean kitchen, dropping bits of hay at intervals, on through the darkened sitting-room, to the quiet little bedroom beyond, and deposited her burden upon the white bed. Then she ranyes, really ran-to the kitchen closet, and returned -as Debby laughingly told the story years afterwith not only the camphor and brandy bottles, but also the salt and pepper, together with the saleratus and mustard cups, just as Debby and Jane entered in amazed silence. "She has taken him to the sitting-room bedroom!" said Jane, surprised beyond measure, at the same time conceiving a great admiration for this little Susan, who could always think and perform twice, before Jane or Debby could arrive at even the shadow of a conclusion. TOWZER INVESTIGATES THE HAY-STACK. Jane, and such a comfortable spot; when I had fever 'n' ager, why, I quite enjoyed lyin' here," apologized Susan, as she was about to deluge the wan-faced boy with camphor and brandy, which Debby, with a strong hand, prevented just in time. Debby, you see, had reached a conclusion or two, and she was now ready to act with the foremost, as she always was after once deciding. "He's comin' to, Susan; never mind all that stuff you 've brought in here from the closet. This boy is starved out, that 's all; he does n't want your camphire, and mustard, nor salt, neither, but you just weaken a bit of the brandy, and Jane, you be quick and see if that broth I smell is n't most done, or boiled itself to death, and bring a bowlful in here; take one of the blue bowls, Jane, they 've got a comfortable, healthy sort of look, owin' to their amazin' size. There now, Sonny, swallow this weak brandy." Susan was bending down over the white face, smoothing the brown hair, and smiling a succession of sunbeamy smiles, right into the face and heart of this outcast. A wan smile answered her; and the weary eyes looked up a moment at Debby, gratefully, as he swallowed the weakened brandy, but they returned to Susan's face again, and rested there. "I don't suppose, Debby, we know how to deal with children exactly, never havin' had any around," said Susan, mournfully and apologetically; at the same time, one plump hand was tenderly smoothing the boy's hair, while the other clasped one of his thin hands, which was not very clean, either. "Never mind, Susan, we know how to feed 'em, any way; and I reckon that 'll reach their hearts as soon as anything. Right, Jane; you 've brought one of the blue bowls, have n't you? That broth smells amazin' good! Now, then, Sonny!" Debby took the spoon from Jane's hand-Jane still holding the bowl-and prepared to feed the famished boy. "I'll raise him up, Debby, so that he can eat better." And accordingly, Susan raised the boy's head to her shoulder, when he looked up with the feeble smile again, while his lips moved painfully; and Susan, bending her ear, alone caught the lowspoken words. "Lord, pity us all!" cried she to her sisters. "He says he is only a beggar-boy,-not to trouble about him, as though we cared for that!" Tears sprang to three pairs of eyes, and Debby quickly carried a big spoonful of the broth to the white lips. He ate slowly and seemingly in pain a moment or two, and then turned from it with a shiver and sigh, muttering: "I was so hungry yesterday! I could have swallowed it all, sure, yesterday! This morning, I had a piece of bread. The dog took it; but I don't care; I did n't want it. I'm so tired and so sleepy!" Susan put him gently down, and, as he tossed his arms restlessly, and a wild, frightened look came to his eyes, the three tender-hearted little women looked eagerly at one another for an answer to the question each face was mutely asking: "What shall we do?" As usual, Susan was first to recover. "I'll have old Doctor Jones here in a wink." "No, Susan, let me go," said Jane, quickly. "He seems to know you better,-this child does; sort of smiles now and then, as if he knew you. I'll go." Ten minutes later, old Doll stood at the gate below, and Jane was clambering into the covered wagon, while Debby, on the porch, shouted numberless messages. Susan, at the bedside, sat quite still, clasping one of the burning hands, and smoothing the hair from the hot forehead. She sat there patiently through the long hour of Jane's absence, listening to the low muttering of the sick boy, from which they could glean nothing of his past; while Debby stole in and out on tiptoe, halting at the bedside a moment or two, then away again to the kitchen to look after matters there; and so, patient, faithful, Susan sat on, not only that one hour, but many, many hours, through long days and weary nights, while the feeble life ebbed lower and lower, as the fever brought on by hunger and exhaustion seemed to burn and shrivel up the little body to a skeleton. Through the long weary nights and days, the three watchers, themselves growing white and anxious, listened wonderingly to one sentence, repeated again and again,-sometimes gayly, then so sadly and wearily that the tears would rush to the eyes of the patient women: "The tide 's out, Father; I'm coming to shore." "What shore was he nearing?" Susan wondered, one day, after so many had passed away anxiously and slowly,-wondered with a pain at her heart, the motherly soul; for this lonely child who had come to them in such a Providential waySusan held to that-was growing strangely dear to her, and not only to her, but to Debby and Jane, who, perhaps, could not have told what was stirring their hearts, and bringing out caresses and tender words that the unconscious boy neither felt nor heard. "Which shore was he approaching?" again and again Susan asked herself and the doctor; and then prayed it might be this, if only that they might be tender and kind to him a bit, before his feet should touch upon that other shore. wearisome; therefore, we shall skip it. But there came a day, after weeks of nourishing and care, when Willie-that was his name-Willie Brenttold these good friends, including Doctor Jones, of his dead mother-so long dead-and his father, a fisherman, at Ellerton, on the coast, ten miles away, who had been drowned within sight of his home,- -a poor old tumble-down shanty; and, after that, Willie, having started out to seek his fortune, and to get out of sight of the cruel sea, strayed across the country here, there, and all over, begging his way, but without seeming to find a fortune, and sank at last, under the haystack, where Towzer found him out at once. "And now, when must he be moving off?" This was asked one day after health and strength had come back to the sick boy, filling out the cheeks and tinging them with a rich color. The bright eyes shone, also, so honest and clear that Susan, clasping him in her strong, motherly arms, cried out: "Do you suppose we shall ever, ever let you go away? No, not while I live and breathe! Lord pity us all! No, never!" And then two young arms wound themselves closely around Susan's neck, and the brown head, rosy cheeks, and all, lay upon Susan's shoulder. Willing hands and nimble feet Willie Brent brought to the quiet old homestead, and the tenderness that succored him in that hour of need was All this and more good Susan thought and prayed on; and then there really came a day-a most wonderful day, for they never left off going back to it with joy and triumph-when the brown eyes opened and smiled right up into good Susan's face, causing her to beam down upon him so the brightest spot in all Willie's life to turn to in cheerily he really thought at first he had gone to after years, and was always remembered by him, heaven, and that was the face of an angel who but most tenderly after Susan-Mother Susan, as was to lead him straight to father and mother. he had very early learned to call her-was carried To tell of the slow return to health would be out from the old home to rest on the hill-side. MANY years ago, I was living, in that curious topsy-turvy island-continent called Australia, where the pears have the stalk at the big end, where the pits grow outside the cherries, where the swans are black, where strawberries ripen at Christmas, and where they have four-footed beasts with the bills of birds,-well, when I was living in this country, I one day came into possession of a young kangaroorat, which is a little animal almost exactly resembling a kangaroo, only much smaller. I was at first somewhat puzzled how I should feed my foundling, as it was too young to take care of itself, when I suddenly remembered that my old cat, "Vic," had just become possessed of a large family of little kittens, and I resolved to see whether she would not adopt my kangarooling as one of her own family. I had some doubt whether she might not decline the charge, and make a meal of my pet; so I watched her secretly when she returned to her wooden box full of children, after I had slyly slipped the rat in among them during her temporary absence in search of food. When she came back, she sniffed the little fellow curiously once or twice, but soon came to the conclusion that he could, at least, do no harm, and left him in quiet slumber with the rest. So I turned away satisfied, and pleased with her hospitality. After a few days, I noticed that puss was particularly affectionate to the little stranger, showing it more attention than any other member of the family circle. The rat grew apace, and soon was strong enough to use those wonderful jumping instruments, its hind legs, with great effect. Well, one day, I went into the shed to see how the orphan was getting along. The old cat was licking it fondly, when, all of a sudden, it made a |