Jim kept what he had thought to himself.
"You must go and get one somewhere," decreed his wife.
Jim rose obediently and went downstairs. In about half an hour he returned with his arms full of irons, blankets and bedding.
"Here, Harry, boy," he said, "uncle's got a jolly little bed for you!"
"Where did you get that?" demanded Jane.
CHAPTER XV.
THE LAST HOPE.
Little Harry Lyon found the circumstances of his fresh life so entirely different from his old existence, that he seemed a greater stranger to himself than the most strange of those who peopled his new world.
To begin with, he was, to use his aunt's own term, "breeched" the next day, and his petticoats became the big baby's property, while his precious best frock was poked unceremoniously into a box under his aunt's bed.