The little fellow had a tiny cart, which he was filling with pebbles; but he stopped suddenly when he saw the travellers looking at him.
"What is your name?" asked Mr. Bryant, stopping the horse.
"Charley Monson," answered the child, his cheeks growing very rosy.
"Well, Charley, you are very busy, I see. What are you going to do with your stones?"
"I'm going to help Abel make the walks look pretty."
"Who is Abel?—Your brother?"
"Oh, no, sir!" Charley laughed. "He's our hired man. There he is tipping up the load."
"Can you bring me a tumbler of water, Charley?" asked the lady, pleasantly.
"Oh, yes, ma'am!" He ran toward the door; but returned in a minute, asking, "Don't you like milk? We've got plenty of nice, fresh milk."
"If your mother can spare me a glass of milk, it would be very refreshing."