"Is that true, sir?" asked Guy, turning to Mr. Graham.
"Why, I can't say that your mother would be an icicle before Christmas," returned Mr. Graham, laughing, "but it certainly is far too cold and stormy there for a delicate woman."
"Ah, then, sir!" returned Guy, very sadly, "I cannot go with you, I cannot leave my mother."
"Hurrah!" cried George, turning a double somersault before the fire, and nearly into it.
"What's the matter?" asked Guy, in astonishment.
"Why, it means," said Mr. Harwood, "that if you will not leave your mother, you must stay with us, as she has consented to do. Much as I disliked to part with you, who have been so invaluable to me on the way, I did not like to ask you to remain with us while others were ready to offer you, in mines and mills, so much better opportunities of gaining money than I can upon my little farm. There, for some time at least, there will be more work than money, I guess. So now, Guy, you know your mother will, at any rate, have a home; Mr. Graham will give you much higher wages than I can."
At that point, Aggie began to cry bitterly, saying, "Guy, you mustn't go away! who should I have to tell me stories?"
"And, besides, my dog Jack can't smoke yet," interrupted Gus, "and you promised to teach him, and you've got to stay and do it."
"That's so," said George. "I expect I shall burn the house down trying to smoke, if you don't. You see I haven't forgotten how you threw that flour and water on me in the burning wagon, yet, and you have to stay and let me have satisfaction for that!"