“Oh, that's it, is it?” said the keeper. “But what's happened the little fellow?” glancing at Regie's crutches.
“He fell from a cherry tree a few week ago,” Sister Julia explained, as they walked towards the house.
“Stealing cherries, eh?” chuckled the man, giving Regie a significant little nudge.
“Indeed, I wasn't,” answered Regie, with some indignation.
“Why, Reginald, he is only joking,” Sister Julia said, reprovingly.
“Of course I was,” said the keeper. “Such a bright little fellow as you look to be ought to know when a man's joking.”
“Yes, I know I ought,” Regie answered, blushing. “I spoke before I thought; you must excuse me, Mr. Keeper.”
“'Mr. Keeper,'” laughed the man, “well! that's a new name for Joe Canfield; but I like it, and you're a mighty honest little fellow. When you're ready to go up, you can leave your crutches below here, and I'll carry you over every one of those blessed stairs myself.”
“You'd better let papa do that,” said Nan, “he's pretty heavy, and we wouldn't have anything happen to him for the world.”
“Do you think I would drop him, little one? Never you fear; I could carry you both as well as not;” whereupon Nan started to travel briskly up the stairs, as if to show him she was quite equal to doing her own climbing.