"Wa-all, I allow I'm glad yer take it the right way," declared Josh; then, growing loquacious, he continued: "Fact is, this is mighty cur'ous company of ourn—"
"Josh, come hyere a minute, can't yer?" called Mirandy from within.
"Sartain," he answered, breaking off abruptly, and leaving us to conjecture who the mysterious visitor might be.
II.
"Yes, I allow I'm right glad yer don't mind passin' the night out hyere by the fire," said Josh, taking up the thread of the conversation again upon his return, shortly after. "Wa-all, I was a-tellin' about this queer company of ourn. Came unexpected, same as you did; 'peared all of a sudden out of the woods. It's a leetle girl, sirs; says she's twelve year old, but small of her age—nothin' but a child, though I reckon life's used her hard, pore creetur! Yer should a-seen her when she 'rived. Her shoes war most wore off with walkin', an' her purty leetle feet all blistered an' sore. Mirandy 'marked to me arterward that her gown war a good deal tore with comin' through the brambles, though she'd tried to tidy it up some by pinnin' the rents together with thorns. But, land sakes, I did not take notice of that: my eyes were jest fastened on her peaked face. White as a ghost's, sirs; an' her dull-lookin', big black eyes, that stared at us, yet didn't seem ter see nothin'.
"Wa-all, that's the way the leetle one looked when she stepped out of the shadders. Mirandy was totin' water from the spring yonder, an' when she see her she jest dropped the bucket an' screamed—thought it was a spook, yer know. I war a-pilin' wood on the fire, an' when the girl saw me she shrank back a leetle; but when she ketched sight o' Mirandy she 'peared to muster up courage, tuk a step forward, an' then sank down all in a heap, with a kinder moan, right by the bench thar. She 'peared miserable 'nough, I can tell yer: bein' all of a shiver an' shake, with her teeth chatterin' like a monkey's.
"Mirandy stood off, thinkin' the creetur was wild or half-witted, likely; but I says: 'Bullets an' bombshells, Mirandy'—escuse me, gentlemen, but that's a good, strong-soundin' espression, that relieves my feelin's good as a swear word,—bullets an' bombshells, woman, don't yer see the girl's all broke up with the ague?'—'Why, sur 'nough!' cried she, a-comin' to her senses. 'I'd oughter known a chill with half an eye; an' sartain this beats all I ever saw,' With that she went over an' tuk the girl in her arms, an' sot her on the bench, sayin', 'You pore honey, you! Whar'd you come from?' At this the leetle one began to cry—tried to speak, then started to cry again. 'Wa-all, never mind a-talkin' about it now,' says Mirandy, settin' to quiet her, an' pettin' an' soothin' her in a way that I wouldn't a-believed of Mirandy if I hadn't a-seen it; for she hasn't had much to tetch the soft spot in her heart sence our leetle Sallie died, which is nigh onto eight year ago. 'Come, Josh,' she called ter me, 'jest you carry this hyere child inter the house an' lay her on the bed. I reckon she can have the leetle room, an' you can sleep in the kitchen ternight.'—'I'm agreeable,' answers I; so I picked her up (she war as limp an' docile as could be), an' carried her in, an' put her down on the bed. That was three weeks come Sunday, an' thar she's been ever since."
Our host had finished his story, yet how much remained untold! All the care and kindness which the stranger had received at the hands of these good simple people was passed over in silence, as if not worth mentioning.
Josh rose and went to the fire to relight his brier-wood pipe, which had gone out during the recital.
"And is the little girl still very ill?" asked Father Friday, with gentle concern.