like that. I guess he's Mr. Marsh's hired man in the city. Only he can
do everything in the house, too. But I don't feel like calling him
'Clark' because he's grown-up, and so I call him '_Mr._ Clark.'" She did
not tell Aunt Hetty that she sort of wanted to make up to him for being
somebody's servant and being called like one. It made her mad and she
wanted to show he could be a mister as well as anybody. She began on the
third cookie. What else could she say to Aunt Hetty, who always wanted
to know the news so? She brought out, "Well, _I_ tell you, in the
afternoon, when I get home, mostly old Mr. Welles is out in his garden."

"_Gardin_!" cried Aunt Hetty. "Mercy on us, making garden the fore-part
of April. Where does he think he's living? Florida?"

"I don't believe he's exactly making garden," said Elly. "He just sort
of pokes around there, and looks at things. And sometimes he sits down
on the bench and just _sits_ there. He's pretty old, I guess, and he
walks kind of tired, always."

"Does the other one?" asked Aunt Hetty.

This made Elly sit up, and say very loud, "No, _indeedy_!" She really
hadn't thought before how very _un_tired Mr. Marsh always seemed. She
added, "No, the other one doesn't walk tired, nor he doesn't poke around
in the garden. He takes long tramps way back of the mountains, over
Burnham way."

"For goodness' sakes, what's he find up there?"

"He likes it. He comes over and borrows our maps and things to study,
and he gets Mother to tell him all about everything. He gets Touclé to