engine with a bell on it. What do you think of that?"

It did not take long to change Bob's fright into the happiest
anticipations. Red Pepper Burns was at his best with
children; he had what their mothers called "a way with them."

A knock at the door and Cynthia's voice calling," Here's some
things for the little boy, Doctor," put an end to a full
half-hour of delightful comradeship, during which the sheets
of the bed had became a tent and the two were soldiers resting
after a day's march. Burns rose and took in the parcel.
Martha Macauley had sent it. Her boy Harold was the nearest
in size to Bob of any of the children of his neighbours, and
the parcel held everything needed from undershirt to scarlet
Windsor scarf to tie under the rolling collar of the blue
blouse.

"A bath first, Bob," and his new guardian initiated him into
the exciting experience of a splash in a big white tub, in
water decidedly warmer than it would be a week hence when he
should have become used to the invigorating cool plunge. Then
Burns, glowing from contact with water as cold as it could be
got from the tap, clad in bathrobe and slippers, attempted to
solve the mysteries of Bob's toilet. Roars of laughter
interspersed with high pipings of glee presently brought
Cynthia to the door.

"Can't I help you, Doctor Burns?" she called anxiously.

"Not a bit of it, Cynthia: much obliged. I'm having the time