“Well done, Charlie!” laughed his mother.
Dinner was at length over. Havoc and desolation reigned upon the once well-filled table.
In the evening, as they all sat together round the table, Maggie climbed on Mr. Morton's knee and petitioned for a story.
“What shall it be about?” he asked.
“Oh, anything.”
“Let me think a moment,” said the young man.
He bent his eyes thoughtfully upon the wood-fire that crackled in the wide-open fireplace, and soon signified that he was ready to begin.
All the children gathered around him, and even Mrs. Frost, sitting quietly at her knitting, edged her chair a little nearer, that she, too, might listen to Mr. Morton's story. As this was of some length, we shall devote to it a separate chapter.