"Oh, no, she is very, very kind," said Guy, earnestly, "and I wouldn't be parted from her for the world." He then forgot all his fears, and eagerly told the lady how sick his mother had been, and how sure he was that the trip across the plains would cure her, and, above all, told how good and kind she was; "she nursed me," he concluded, very earnestly, "and you see what a big boy I am!"
Mrs. Harwood smiled so kindly that he was almost certain she would take his mother; but his heart fell, when she said: "I am very sorry that your mother is sick, but I don't think I can take her with me; and besides, Mr. Harwood would not like to have another boy to take care of."
"But I will take care of myself," cried Guy, "and help a great deal about the wagons. Oh, ma'am, if you would only take me, I would light the fires when you stopped to camp, and get water, and do a great many things, and my mother would do a great deal too."
Mrs. Harwood shook her head, and poor Guy felt so downcast that he was greatly inclined to cry. The boys laughed, but the little girl looked very sorry, and said to him:
"Don't look so sad; perhaps mamma will yet take your mother, and I will take you. I want you to go. You look good and kind, and wouldn't let George tease me."
"That I wouldn't," said Guy, looking pityingly upon the frail little creature, and wondering how any one could think of being unkind to her.
"What is your name?" asked the little one.
"Guy," he replied, and the boys burst into a laugh.
"Oh, let us take him with us, ma," cried George, "it would be such capital fun to have a 'guy' with us all the time, to make us laugh. Oh, ma, do let him go."