"I don't know," he answered.
"Don't you know?" Joe asked with a look of wonder.
"No, sir, I don't—that's honest," said Samson. "But there's some that say they come on the back of a big crane and at the right home the ol' crane lights an' pecks on the door and dumps 'em off, just as gentle as he can."
Joe examined the door carefully to find where the crane had pecked on it.
That day he confided to Betsey that in his opinion the baby didn't amount to much.
"Why?" Betsey asked.
"Can't talk or play with any one or do anything but just make a noise like a squirrel. Nobody can do anything but whisper an' go 'round on his tiptoes."
"He's our little brother and we must love him," said Betsey.
"Yes; we've got to love him," said Joe. "But it's worse 'n pickin' up potatoes. I wisht he'd gone to some other house."
That day Sarah awoke from a bad dream with tears flowing down her cheeks. She found the little lad standing by her pillow looking very troubled. He kissed her and whispered: