MR. CHIPPY’S SON
Rusty Wren was hurrying out of his house to find some supper for his family, when he almost bumped into a young chap who was gazing at the sign, “Boy Wanted,” which still hung outside Rusty’s door.
He was a likely-looking lad, who wore a bay cap on his head. And he had excellent manners, too. He said “Good-evening!” to Rusty very pleasantly and touched his cap. No doubt he would have taken it off had it not grown right on his head. “I see you want a boy,” he observed.
“I certainly do!” said Rusty Wren. “What’s your name?”
“They call me ‘Chippy, Junior,’” the youngster told him.
“Is that so?” Rusty exclaimed. “Then your father must be Mr. Chippy, who lives in the wild grapevine on the stone wall by the roadside.”
Chippy, Jr., nodded brightly. And when he said, “Chip, chip, chip, chip,”
Rusty knew that there could be no doubt about it.
“Wait just a moment!” he told Chippy, Jr. “I want to speak to my wife about you.” And then he darted back into his house.
“My dear,” he said to Mrs. Rusty, “I’ve found the very person! Little Mr. Chippy’s son is outside and I’m sure we ought to be glad to have a modest young man like him to help us.”