"Is it writ out?"
"Yes; here it is," said Fred, laying the piece of folded paper on the stand beside the Bible and a copy of the Tottenville Weekly Illuminator.
The lad had no particular excuse for staying longer, but he was anxious to ask several questions before going back, and he was in doubt as to how he should go about it.
But when he was invited to sit down he did so, and asked, in the most natural manner:
"Where is Bud?"
"He's down to the village, too."
"When will he be home?"
"That's a hard question to answer, and I don't think Bud himself could tell you if he tried. You know he's been traveling so long with the circus and has so many friends in the village that they are all glad to see him and won't let him come home. Bud was always a good boy, and I don't wonder that everybody thinks so much of him."
Fred Sheldon indulged in a little smile for his own amusement, but he took care that the doting mother did not notice it.
"Michael was always hard on Bud, but he sees how great his mistake was, and when he rode by on the big wagon, cracking his whip, he felt as proud of him as I did."