down on the steps in great dejection. Shep followed, working at my coat
with his tongue.

I think that the sight of me must have touched the heart of Aunt Deel.

"Peabody Baynes, we mustn't be cruel," said she in a softer tone, and
then she brought a rag and began to assist Shep in the process of
cleaning my coat. "Good land! He's got to stay here--ayes!--he ain't got
no other place to go to."

"But if you can't stan' it," said Uncle Peabody.

"I've got to stan' it--ayes!--I can't stan' it, but I've got to--ayes!
So have you."

Aunt Deel put me to bed although it was only five o'clock. As I lay
looking up at the shingles a singular resolution came to me. It was born
of my longing for the companionship of my kind and of my resentment. I
would go and live with the Dunkelbergs. I would go the way they had gone
and find them. I knew it was ten miles away, but of course everybody
knew where the Dunkelbergs lived and any one would show me. I would run
and get there before dark and tell them that I wanted to live with them,
and every day I would play with Sally Dunkelberg. Uncle Peabody was not
half as nice to play with as she was.

I heard Uncle Peabody drive away. I watched him through the open
window. I could hear Aunt Deel washing the dishes in the kitchen. I got
out of bed very slyly and put on my Sunday clothes. I went to the open
window. The sun had just gone over the top of the woods. I would have to
hurry to get to the Dunkelbergs' before dark. I crept out on the top of