"Dear Joe--"

"Oh," commented M"ri doubtfully, "I don"t know as you should address him so familiarly."

"I called him "Joe" when we rode to school. He told me to," defended Janey.

"He"s just like a boy," suggested David.

So M"ri, silenced, read on: "I thank you for your beyewtifull present which I cannot have."

"Oh, Janey," expostulated M"ri, laughing; "that doesn"t sound very gracious."

"Well, you said I couldn"t have them till I was grown up."

"I was wrong," admitted M"ri. "I didn"t realize it then. We have to see a thing written sometimes to know how it sounds."

"May I wear them?" asked Janey exultingly. "May I put them on now?"

"Yes," consented M"ri.

Janey flew upstairs and came back wearing the adored turquoises, which made her eyes most beautifully blue.

"Now I can write," she affirmed, taking up her pencil with the impetus of an incentive. Under the inspiration of the beads around her neck, she wrote:

"DEAR JOE:

"I am wareing the beyewtifull beeds you sent me around my neck.

Aunt M"ri says they are terkwoyses. I never had such nice beeds and I thank you. I wish I cood ride with you agen. Good bye.

From your frend,

"JANEY."

CHAPTER VI

The next day being town day, David "hooked up" Old Hundred and drove to the house. After the b.u.t.ter crock, egg pails, and kerosene and gasoline cans had been piled in, Barnabas squeezed into the s.p.a.ce beside David. M"ri came out with a memorandum of supplies for them to get in town. To David she handed a big bunch of spicy, pink June roses.

"What shall I do with them?" he asked wonderingly.

"Give them to some one who looks as if he needed flowers," she replied.

"I will," declared the boy interestedly. "I will watch them all and see how they look at the roses."

At last M"ri had a kindred spirit in her household. Jud would have sneered, and Janey would not have understood. To Barnabas all flowers looked alike.

It had come to be a custom for Barnabas to take David to town with him at least once a week. The trip was necessarily a slow one, for from almost every farmhouse he received a pet.i.tion to "do a little errand in town." As the good nature and accommodating tendency of Barnabas were well known, they were accordingly imposed upon. He received commissions of every character, from the purchase of a corn sh.e.l.ler to the matching of a blue ribbon. He also stopped to pick up a child or two en route to school or to give a lift to a weary pedestrian whom he overtook.

While Barnabas made his usual rounds of the groceries, meatmarket, drug store, mill, feed store, general store, and a hotel where he was well known, David was free to go where he liked. Usually he accompanied Barnabas, but to-day he walked slowly up the princ.i.p.al business street, watching for "one who needed flowers." Many glances were bestowed upon the roses, some admiring, some careless, and then--his heart almost stopped beating at the significance--Judge Thorne came by. He, too, glanced at the roses. His gaze lingered, and a look came into his eyes that stimulated David"s pa.s.sion for romance.

"He"s remembering," he thought joyfully.

He didn"t hesitate even an instant. He stopped in front of the Judge and extended the flowers.

"Would you like these roses, Judge Thorne?" he asked courteously.

Then for the first time the Judge"s attention was diverted from the flowers.

"Your face is familiar, my lad, but--"

"My name is David Dunne."

"Yes, to be sure, but it must be four years or more since I last saw you. How"s your mother getting along?"

The boy"s face paled.

"She died three weeks ago," he answered.

"Oh, my lad," he exclaimed in shocked tones, "I didn"t know! I only returned last night from a long journey. But with whom are you living?"

"With Aunt M"ri and Uncle Barnabas."

"Oh!"

The impressive silence following this exclamation was broken by the Judge.

"Why do you offer me these flowers, David?"

"Aunt M"ri picked them and told me to give them to some one who looked as if they needed flowers."

The Judge eyed him with the keen scrutiny of the trained lawyer, but the boy"s face was non-committal.

"Come up into my office with me, David," commanded the Judge, turning quickly into a near-by stairway. David followed up the stairs and into a suite of well-appointed offices.

A clerk looked up in surprise at the sight of the dignified judge carrying a bouquet of old-fashioned roses and accompanied by a country lad.

"Good morning, Mathews. I am engaged, if any one comes."

He preceded David into a room on whose outer door was the deterrent word, "Private."

While the Judge got a pitcher of water to hold the flowers David crossed the room. On a table near the window was a rack of books which he eagerly inspected. To his delight he saw a volume of Andersen"s Fairy Tales. Instantly the book was opened, and he was devouring a story.

"David," spoke the Judge from the other end of the room, "didn"t these roses grow on a bush by the west porch?"

There was no answer.

The Judge, remarking the boy"s absorption, came to see what he was reading.