"Not he," laughed Jacob; "but Tommy Dane has been full of it ever since; and Almira Jane, the help over at the cottage, has told me too. I guess it is owing to her good sense as much as anything else that he's turned out so well."
And perhaps it was as well that Jacob did not see the merry twinkle in the banker's eye at his words. It was surprising how much Mr. Patterson knew of what went on in the village.
One thing was sure. None of the boys' pets suffered during that week. They had never thought so much of them before; and presently Friday afternoon came, and Mr. Sinclair, leaning back comfortably in his chair, was asking for their stories.
He began with Master Sunshine, because he was the youngest of all; and the little fellow explained how he had learned during the week that heavy hens like his Cochin Chinas should be given low roosts because it was such an effort for them to lift their unwieldy bodies.
"Mine have all been made low now," he added eagerly; "and Almira Jane says that it is a good common sense-ical idea."
They all smiled a little over the way he brought in Almira Jane's name and her funny word. But they had come to have such respect for the manly little fellow that no one laughed aloud.
Then Tommy told how Jacob had taught him to be kind to a pretty colt which his father was bringing up.
"I always thought it was fun to play with it. I often teased it just to make it kick out with its front feet," he said; "but I know now that that sort of teasing, though it does not hurt the colt at the time, teaches it the habit of kicking. A kicking horse is almost worse than no horse at all."
"The thing I know about happened last winter," said his seat-mate. "There was plenty of snow and ice about, but nothing for the birds to drink; so my sister used to put a saucer of water on the window-ledge each morning. The birds would come from a long way off to get a sip from it, and they were always glad to pick up a few crumbs she strewed for them."
"Mine is a bird story too," said an observant-looking boy; "but the kindness was done by birds, instead of by people. Last week when a bill-poster was pasting up some advertisements on our barn, a sparrow perched on the edge of the bucket, and got his feet and the tips of his wing-feathers all covered with paste."