"not to let him stay at home. I know the girl whose grandfather he was.
Her name's Mary Holmes, and she cried because they sent her grandfather
away. But she didn't tell me why."

"I'm her special friend on Wednesday recess day," said Maizie bashfully,
"that's why she told me."

"I like old people," Suzanna continued. "I like Drusilla, and I like
Mrs. Reynold's mother that once came to see her, and I like old Joe, the
vegetable man, who made whistles for us last summer. They all seem to
understand you when you talk to them, and they can see things just like
you can."

"Well, I've heard it said," said Mrs. Procter musingly, "that old people
are very much like the young in their fancies. Maybe that's why you
enjoy them, Suzanna."

"Well, mother," Suzanna was very much in earnest now, "can't you always
tell everybody who has an old lady or an old gentleman living with them
that if they're not loving to old ladies and gentlemen, their silver
chain will break?"

"Silver chain?" cried Maizie, puzzled. "I don't know what you mean,
Suzanna."

"Why, every one of us," Suzanna explained carefully, "carries a little
silver chain which binds him to everyone else, but especially, I
suppose, to our very own father and mother and brothers and sisters."

"Where is the chain?" asked Maizie.