"Well'm, Miss Faith honey, I reckon de time's about ripe foh de goats. Dat boy's investigated every nook an' cornder ob de place, an' ef you tink bes' I'll go after de goats dis afternoon."
"Very well, Amos," I said. "We are all going to Philadelphia to-day to attend the launching of Mr. Beguelin's yacht, and we are going to take Billy. You can bring the goats up while we are away, and tomorrow morning we can give them to him."
"Yas'm," said Amos, bowing. "I'll have 'em hyah when y'all gets back."
I will say nothing of the ceremony of the launching of the yacht, although, from Cary's uplifted face, you would have thought it was the christening of a first-born child. Jimmie says we needn't say anything. We were worse!
Billy was wildly excited over the breaking of the bottle of champagne, and asked a thousand questions about it.
The next morning we all went out to the barn to see him receive his goats. His face fairly beamed when he saw them. He clapped his hands.
"Oh, Uncle Aubrey! Miss Tats! Are they for me?"
Then he flung his arms around his mother's neck—Bee's neck, mind you!—and cried out:
"Oh, mother, I do think I have the kindest relatives in all the world! What other little boys' relatives would think of the kindness of giving them goats?"
"That's right, my boy," said Captain Featherstone, looking with open admiration at Bee's motherly attitude, on her knees beside her boy and his arms around her neck, "always be grateful. It's a rare virtue these days."