So Phil made up his mind.
He had by this time managed to distract the child's thoughts from her troubles. Indeed, this was no difficult task for Phil Bradley. Already she had laughed at something he had said. When Phil heard what a sweet laugh that was he immediately told himself:
"I warrant that there's a man chasing wild through the woods right now, trying to find this little sunbeam. I know I'd be, if I missed a merry laugh like that at my fireside."
"My name is Phil," he told her, "and won't you tell me yours?"
"Why, it's Mazie," she quickly answered.
"Mazie what?" he continued.
"No, just only Mazie," the little girl told him positively.
Phil was baffled, for he had hoped to learn "daddy's" name. He did not attempt anything further along that line.
"Now, Mazie," he went on to say, "you'll come with me, won't you? You must be hungry, and want some lunch. We'll find daddy pretty soon, you know, and you wouldn't want to stay out here in the woods all by yourself?"
She looked alarmed at the mere suggestion of such a thing. It pleased the boy to notice how eagerly she seized his outstretched hand, to which she clung confidingly.