"In the Waysmith lumber mill. Mr. Waysmith offered a place to your friend Tracy to-day for some young man, and I'm the young man."
"With the Waysmiths?" murmured 'Tilda Jane, "where your father used to be?"
"The same, sissy."
'Tilda Jane could stand no more. "O Lord, I thank thee!" she cried, with a burst of tears, and running into the kitchen, she buried her face in the roller towel hanging on a door.
Hank sauntered after her, and on his way stumbled over a bundle done up in a spotted red handkerchief. He stooped down, picked it up, and opened it. It contained a few lumps of sugar, a Bible, a pair of socks, two handkerchiefs, half a loaf of cake, and fifty cents wrapped in a piece of newspaper.
"My travelling kit," he murmured; "well, if she ain't the best little creature!"
"Hello, 'Tilda!" he called out; "stop that whimpering, and come and tell grampa the news."
The little girl hastily dried her face on the towel, and ran into the bedroom where grampa sat surveying them in bewilderment from the edge of his bed. Some time ago he had come to his room with the intention of undressing. His son's visit had upset him, and he had been sitting confusedly listening to the scraps of conversation he caught from different parts of the house.
"Grampa, grampa!" cried 'Tilda Jane, running in, and excitedly waving her hands, "Hank's goin' to live at home with you, an' me, an' the dogs. We'll be a real family. Oh, ain't it lovely, ain't it lovely?" and catching hold of her skirts she began a sidling and peculiar dance about the room.